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27: Passenger
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
World of Tomorrow 28: Different Worlds
At a rap at the bedroom door, both Evelyn and the evening maid Andrew had hired paused and glanced up in the dressing table mirror. “It’s open, you can come in.” The gleaming brass lever handle dipped, the latch giving, and the door swung open, admitting Andrew. Partially dressed in his tuxedo, he stopped behind Evelyn, using the mirror to tie his bowtie as he spoke. “I’d like you to wear the red dress this evening, please,” he requested, nodding polite acknowledgement to the maid who stood patiently waiting out of the way. “There will be gala balls each night we’re here, but tonight’s will be the heaviest attended. I need to attract some attention, and that dress on you does precisely that.” “Yes, of course.” Finishing with his tie, Andrew studied her in the mirror. Evelyn had been strangely subdued since this afternoon at the train terminal. She’d still shown her typical fascination with all things mechanical and technological, but to a noticeably lesser degree than usual for her
World of Tomorrow 29: Confusion
Leaving his Alameda Street office by lunch time, Andrew was walking on air. He’d hand-selected the financers he’d interviewed today, much as he had Justin Mitchell for the New York branch of the Trust— men he’d worked with over the years with proven track records in finance and business and the brightest up and coming—with an expectation that he might entice fifty percent of them to work for him on the west coast within the confines the Los Angeles branch of the Trust had allowed him.He’d scheduled those appointments deliberately, with his most desirable candidates early in the day and those he’d settle for later, but he hadn’t needed the afternoon appointments at all. Which was a mercy for at least one of his interviewees. After eavesdropping with Evelyn on Mr. and Mrs. Pierson talking about his family and his private life, Andrew had planned to dangle his offer before Mr. Pierson, then yank it away after subtly mentioning the backstabbing gossip—now, he’d let the man wonder what opp
World of Tomorrow 30: In Antiquity
Surrounded by the heady woody scent of him coming off Andrew’s jacket about her shoulders, Evelyn could scarcely bring herself to consider what the stranger seeking Charlotte had said. There was no way Andrew would hurt her—at least not purposefully. He took more precautions for her safety than she did, though perhaps that was more the strong possessiveness he had than a concern for her well-being. Regardless, he was vigilant looking after her and that didn’t indicate any malign intent to do harm. His warm hand wrapped hers as he led her along the walkway towards their bungalow, watchful eyes scanning their darkened surroundings.Then there was the other matter.Evelyn had known Russell James for years—there was no way the man was holding his wife prisoner. The simple fact that Charlotte had appeared and gone at the Trust—unscheduled and often to Mr. James’ surprise—confirme
World of Tomorrow 31: Engineering Futures
“Good morning, Mr. James.”Removing his hat as he entered the outer office on the thirty-eighth floor, Andrew stared, letting his eyes soak in every inch of her. Transferring his hat from hand to hand, he shrugged out of his overcoat, still damp from the icy misting rain outside.Miserable place, he grumbled internally, missing the bright sun-kissed days of Los Angeles for more reasons than the delightful weather.The weekend alone after their return to New York had been an agony, one that more than once he’d sought to alleviate, only barely forcing himself back into his apartment to pace from room to room, his nose chasing the sweet scent of her skin and hair, his ears longing for the lilting sound of his name in her voice. “Good morning. Miss Moore.”He hated this already.Evelyn gave him a gentle smile. “I’ve prioritized your messages. The critical ones are on your desk already. With a cup of fresh coffee.”Andrew glanced through the open door into his office. “Thank you, Miss Moore
World of Tomorrow 32: Catastrophes
As late in the spring as it was, the weather that evening was ghastly. The sole benefit of it being that it further dropped attendance at the World’s Fair. It had been a simple matter of a phone call to arrange their reservation in a private corner of the Turf Trylon Cafe, one with a spectacular view of the rain-drenched Perisphere glittering in the fairground’s illumination, the Trylon’s spire towering just beyond it. Their trip to Los Angeles apparently had broken Evelyn of the annoying tendency to first search the menu by price, then by foods that appealed to her. Pleased with that development, Andrew studied her as she skimmed the dinner options while they waited for their cocktails to arrive. “Did you see something that appealed to you?” Her misty blue eyes lifted to his and Evelyn replied mildly, “Whatever you like will be fine.” Leaning forward on his elbo
World of Tomorrow 33: Rescued
“Good morning, Mr. James.” Alerted by the lift’s chime, Evelyn had expected Andrew within seconds. Detecting movement in her periphery, she looked up to find him leaning halfway into the office, peering at her oddly, instead of striding in boldly as he usually did. The dark waves of his hair, normally smoothed back carefully with pomade, were tousled and she was positive he hadn’t shaved this morning. Dark circles ringed his vaguely haunted looking eyes as he stared at her. Alarmed, Evelyn rose. “Is everything alright?” Andrew blinked once, mechanically. “Evelyn, would you kindly collect your things and join me, please?” “Of course.” In an outright terror, she opened her personal armoire. Rushing, she pulled on her suit jacket, then snatched her lunch and purse, and hurried around her desk to
World of Tomorrow 34: Rescued Again
Andrew watched Evelyn’s retreating figure, clinging to the last possible glimpse of her before she was swallowed by the flowing foot traffic on the New York sidewalks. He’d done an abominable job with his gratitude. Doubtless, as Evelyn had assured him, his children—he would have everything he’d need to care for them. In a day and a few short words, she’d soothed his wounded pride and panic, given him back his sense of control and accomplishment. And he’d tried to pay her for it. As if the making of a man—of a father— was a skill one could purchase. At least she’d enjoyed herself with the children. That was more than he could say of the last twenty-four hours with him. Andrew’s chest felt tight. Where had he gone wrong? He couldn’t set them back on the right path if he didn’t understand how they’d strayed from it. Peter poked his head out of the car door. “Father
World of Tomorrow 35: Panic
‘A fine mother’. ‘A fine mother’. ‘A fine mother’. The words echoed in marching cadence with Evelyn’s steps the entire walk back to her apartment building, ringing in her ears, overlaying themselves inside her shocked brain in a tangled cacophonous din. “You have a fine evening.” The nightwatchman smiled, holding open the door for them, but Evelyn scarcely heard him. Or the children’s happy chirps, “Thank you!” “Thank you. I appreciate you looking after the safety of the tenants here.” That Evelyn only heard because about the same time he said it, Andrew shifted their paper bag of groceries to his opposite arm and took her hand in his larger warm one. Or maybe it wasn’t that she’d heard, but she absolutely felt it. The enormous electric jolt that shot through her body at Andrew
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World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
“Stop, Peter!” Sarah exclaimed, whirling to face behind her. She shot her brother an angry glare. “Peter, for pity’s sake, don’t throw dirt clods at your sister,” Andrew called over his shoulder, shifting his swaddled, sleeping son from his right shoulder to his left as they walked the long, tree-lined drive that led to the James’ estate, perched with its back on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Gulls rode the ocean updrafts in the afternoon sun above the glistening water, occasionally diving when something of interest caught their eye. On the opposite side of the tree-lined drive, his wife’s tiny orchard of glossy-leaved oranges in full bloom left a sweet scent drifting over the drive on the warm, salty breeze off the sea. Not far away, Evelyn's gated garden was growing lush with upright stalks of corn, twined in the loving arms of pole beans with the wide leaves of squash spreading in a carpet at their feet along the ground in one row. In another, her tomatoes were already d
World of Tomorrow 138: Sound and Fury
“M-ma-ma.” The stuttering word was an alarming half-sob and half-gurgle from the wounded Becky. “M-ma-m-ma.” Dear God! Whoever it was had shot her! That poor, helpless girl! Why!? She wasn’t a threat! And there was absolutely nothing here of any value! Evelyn’s heart leapt to her throat and hammered painfully. But she stayed close to the wall, inching forward on tiptoe to clutch at Andrew’s jacket. She pointed to the floor where their shadows fell long across it from the single overhead lamp in the middle of the room. If they drew too close to the door, their shadows would be visible to the intruder in the darkened hall leading to the bedrooms. She pointed to the window, and Andrew jerked his chin towards it in acknowledgement. Escape. They had to escape. Outside, on the sidewalk, they could summon the patrolling police officer. They could summon help. Men trained for this. Men with other guns. They had to move fast. Miranda’s daughter needed them. Even above the scuffling noises fr
World of Tomorrow 137: Miranda's Story
Andrew rose slowly to his feet, an antagonized muscle twitching along his clean-shaven jaw. His expression looked like a bomb about to explode. Evelyn drew a sudden breath, one hand clapping over her mouth. She stared, in turns, first at Will, then at Miranda, and her mind whirled. What was it Alexander Lowell had said the day that Detective Kelly had attempted to arrest her? The same day he’d later resigned from the police department. Something about the detective being fed what he needed to lay an accusation upon Evelyn. The question of ‘why’ anyone cared about a lowly former secretary enough to attempt to kill her, let alone invest the effort in framing her was growing more convoluted by the minute. But it was clear it was centered here, with the account belonging to Glorietta Moreno and her rights as an heir to it. “It’s a stretch,” Andrew said softly, nodding towards Miranda, “but I can see why your mother might have had Russell’s name on that account. N
World of Tomorrow 136: Doors
“You folks just planning on waiting?” their cabbie asked, his dark eyes studying Andrew and Will in the rearview mirror, despite that Evelyn was seated between them. “Meter’s running. Makes no never mind to me if you do, but I’ll have to circle the block or the flatfoots will cite me.” “How long do we have to decide?” Andrew asked, reluctant to have the cab move on the off chance that they might miss Miranda's departure for work during the process. “’Nother minute or two at most.” “Thank you.” He shifted slightly on the cab’s rear seat so he could better see his companions. “I know we’re early, but if she’s keeping business hours, I’d have expected she’d have to allow time to travel to a workplace. You’re certain this is the building, Will?” “It’s the place,” he replied definitively. “I can go in and wait. Tail her to wherever she’s going, then come get you.” “Is it possible she recognized you yesterday?” Evelyn asked, peering through the murk
World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
World of Tomorrow 134: As Luck Would Have It
Wednesday morning in St. Louis dawned dark and gloomy and only marginally better than it had been upon their arrival early afternoon on Monday. When Evelyn emerged from the bedroom into the drawing room where he and the constantly-moving Will waited, Andrew flicked the newspaper he’d been reading down and smiled. They’d all slept poorly—again. They’d all woken late—again—and after their enjoyable brunch yesterday, both men were eager to see what other offerings were available in the East Lounge’s dining area. “Well?” she asked, her red-tinged and particle-irritated eyes roving the drawing room’s lush furnishings, immediately spotting the unmistakable coating of fine black powder and ash. “Are we trapped inside again today? It seems faintly better.” Will snorted. “By comparison to yesterday, being buried in black sand would seem better.” Andrew chuckled, setting aside the St. Louis Star-Times he’d been reading. He rifled through a stack of newspapers o
World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
“The Coronado was built, and I believe is now run, by Preston Bradshaw,” Andrew advised more than an hour later as their cab pulled away from the curb at the train depot. “He graduated from Columbia with my brother, Russell. The two were quite good friends as I recall. My father introduced him to Stanford White in New York City where he worked before returning to St. Louis. He’s responsible for the monumental hotels on Lindell Boulevard. The Melbourne and the Coronado at midtown and the theatre district. And opposite, near the Central West end, the Chase and the Forest Park hotels were also his commissions.” “Did you know him?” Evelyn asked, closing her burning eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. “Is that why we’re staying at the Coronado?” She left unspoken the reminder that the Coronado Hotel, in particular the hotel’s famed Caprice Club, was where they’d found Charlotte to serve Andrew’s divorce paperwork after their tip-off from the Princes in Los Angeles.
World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
The following morning Evelyn woke alone. She could tell by the way his belongings were packed that Andrew had already risen. If she was any guess, he was taking advantage of the train’s onboard barber, which meant she had time to bathe and dress without his typical morning enthusiasm for both processes. Selecting a warm dress from her traveling case, she draped her clothing over the empty towel rack in the bathroom and rooted through her toiletries for her toothbrush and toothpowder. When she was done, she hung a fresh towel on the rack nearest the shower beside the still-damp one Andrew had used and stepped under the spray. The warm shower felt delightful and soothed the telltale soreness from her bedroom exertions with her husband the night before. Once she’d washed, she stood with the warm spray draining off of her and for the first time since they’d come, wondered what they were going to do in St. Louis. They had only the name of a diner and a hotel off t
