Jackson shifts slightly and sighs. “You heard those people at the Spencers’. Mayor Carr has something to do with Lily’s disappearance. I need to get into his house and figure out what.”
I open my mouth to offer some paltry platitude, when I’m interrupted by Katherine saying, “Maybe we could help. We’re going there for dinner.”
I shoot Katherine my best Are you stupid? glare, but Jackson’s already perked up. “Going where for dinner? Mayor Carr’s?”
Katherine nods, bouncing up onto the balls of her feet and back down again. “Yes! We got invited to this fancy dinner party on account of saving so many folks at the lecture a couple of weeks ago.”
Jackson looks at me and I shake my head. “We’re going as Attendants. Fancy servants with sharp weapons. But you didn’t want our aid before, and we ain’t going to have time to help now with whatever poppycock plan you dream up. Plus, I ain’t so sure this whole invite is on the up and up. We’ll have our hands full just taking care of ourselves.”
Katherine sighs heavily. “You have such a morbid outlook, Jane. That doesn’t make any sense. Good Attendant positions aren’t getting any easier to land. This is a real opportunity.”
“Nothing those Survivalists offer is an ‘opportunity,’” I mutter.
“When are you two supposed to go?” Red Jack asks, a familiar twinkle in his eye. He is planning something, and whatever it is ain’t going to be good.
“Tomorrow,” Katherine says. “We even got new dresses. It is going to be quite the event.”
Jackson nods, and just like that I know I’m in for some kind of mischief. I glance at Katherine, hoping maybe I can convince her this is a terrible idea, but she’s just giving Red Jack this friendly grin and I bury my face in my hands. Despite my best intentions I’m about to be sucked into some kind of high drama.
I am surrounded by nothing but suicidal muttonheads.
Momma, I do believe that the manners and etiquette taught at Miss Preston’s may be some of the best instruction in the whole state of Maryland, if not all of the United States. Honestly, where else do Negro girls get to truly learn their place: serving the fine white folks of the world and keeping them safe?
Chapter 13In Which I Attend a Rather Eventful Dinner
The mayor’s iron pony picks us up at half past four. Dinner is to begin at five thirty with cocktails, and Miss Anderson doesn’t want to be late. There’s murder in her eyes when she talks about how grand the mayor’s dinner is going to be. And the wide smile she gives when Katherine and I climb into the passenger compartment does not help the anxiety clawing its way through my guts. Not one bit.
Katherine is chatty as a magpie on the way to the mayor’s house, and even Miss Duncan looks a bit fatigued from attempting to share in her good humor. Katherine, however, is plain radiant. Her gold-streaked curls are swept into an Attendant’s bun high on her head. Escaped ringlets soften the harsh style. Her Attendant’s formal dress is a pale pink that compliments her golden skin perfectly and falls to her knees; the undertrousers are a darker pink, and the stockings and boots are cream. Her white gloves, which I refused to wear because they made my hands feel clumsy, are effortlessly elegant. A jab of jealousy hits me every time I look over at her. She looks like some kind of delicious confection. Nobody needs to be that pretty, especially in silly Attendant’s garb.
My dark thoughts are misplaced, though. It’s only because of Katherine’s help that I ain’t looking too bad myself. My Attendant’s garb is done in shades of green. The dress is an emerald that sets off the deep bronze of my skin in a very nice way, while the undertrousers are a lighter shade, my stockings striped green and white, and my boots brown. I’ve never had such a lovely dress, the fit snug enough to let me fight yet modest enough not to cause scandal. My sickles—the fancy ones from Red Jack, not the ungainly practice ones from school—are strapped into a fine leather belt tooled to carry such things, the holster on the belt empty, since Mayor Carr doesn’t much care for guns in his estate. There are even pockets sewn into the skirt, a request the dressmaker was happy to oblige, and I’ve hidden Tom Sawyer in one just in case I find time to read some later. Katherine helped me do something with my stubborn curls, using a pair of hot tongs to subdue the mess into the required Attendant’s bun.
When she’d showed me what she’d done in the mirror, I’d laughed. “Well, look at that. I look right proper.”
“Don’t worry, Jane, you could never pass for proper,” Katherine had said, her tone teasing instead of harsh. Wonder of all wonders, I do believe we are becoming friends.
We arrive at the mayor’s estate safe and sound, which is somewhat of a surprise, what with all of Katherine’s talking and what I am certain is impending doom in Miss Anderson’s treacherous eyes. We get out, and Katherine takes a deep breath. “Jane, look at it. It’s breathtaking.”
Mayor Carr’s house is quite impressive. The barrier fence that surrounds the grounds is made of wrought iron at least ten feet tall, and I wonder how Jackson was able to scale such a high fence. Dogs patrol the grass around the property, sniffing the ground. I’ve heard of such dogs, they’re similar to the dogs the slave patrols used to hunt down runaways in the old days. These dogs are trained to alert on shamblers, barking loudly and getting right vicious when they smell the undead.
