He had.
Because he’d wanted them to trust in him, because then, maybe, he could trust in them.
He’d blown that now. By getting shanghaied.
The only saving grace he had was that the case wasn’t over yet. He had to get back to California, find the mole, and then...
Then move on to another assignment. Maintain his loyalty to the agency, to his uncle and adoptive parents.
Continue on with the only life he’d ever known.
The only life he’d ever know.
Henry pushed away from the rail, and hours later, found himself back in the same spot, talking with Captain Cahill.
“Just have them dial that number,” Henry said, gesturing toward the piece of paper he’d given the captain. “My name’s on that paper. Have them say it’s concerning me, Henry Randall. I guarantee all charges will be reversed and any ship here will be given permission to provide me passage back to California.”
“You must think you’re really someone special,” Cahill said with a mixture of doubt and amusement.
Henry didn’t want to reveal exactly who they would be calling, because that would make it sound too unbelievable, and they could refuse.
“Whose number is this?” Cahill asked. “A good lawyer?”
“Yes,” Henry answered. “He’s an attorney.”
Cahill laughed but held up the slip of paper. “I’m only doing this because I like you, and am still mad that someone was able to load a barrel onto my ship without me knowing about it.”
That was putting it mildly. Cahill had been more furious about the barrel being hauled aboard than about him being in it. “I’ll wait here,” Henry said, knowing the captain would have a better shot at convincing someone to call his uncle without him present. He’d considered going ashore, but was wearing borrowed clothes, hadn’t had a bath in over a week, and, besides the bum shoulder, he had a gash on his forehead from a blow he’d taken from his assailants at some point that still hadn’t completely healed. He certainly didn’t look like a federal agent, or the nephew of a very powerful man. This way, staying on the ship, Cahill would know where to find him as soon as the call was over.
“All right,” Cahill said. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve gotten the cargo squared away.”
“Thanks. I really do appreciate it.”
Cahill flashed a grimace of sorrow as he tucked the paper into his pocket. “I hope you still do when I return with bad news.”
“It’ll be good news,” Henry insisted.
Cahill left with a shrug and a shake of his head, and was gone for what felt like half the night. It was. They’d pulled into port at midnight.
The sky and the sea were still black as tar when Henry heard his name being shouted.
“Randall! Randall! Get your carcass down here!”
With the aid of the dock lights, Henry saw Cahill waving at him and quickly maneuvered his way through the men hauling cargo down the long, rough-hewn, planked loading ramp.
“The call went through?” Henry asked, running the last few steps to meet up with Cahill.
“Yes. He wants to talk to you.” Cahill pointed to a tall building behind him. “That is one hell of an attorney you had them call.”
Henry nodded as they hurried up the walkway toward the building.
“The attorney general of the United States of America?” Cahill asked.
Henry nodded again.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d believe me,” Henry replied.
“I wouldn’t have,” Cahill said.
Full of optimism, knowing he’d soon be on his way back to California, Henry grinned. “Then you wouldn’t have believed he’s my uncle, either.”
Cahill’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Nephew? Hell, get a move on!” he shouted, and picked up the pace to a near run.
Chapter Six
Life certainly was a fickle thing. Within a few short weeks, Betty had gone from being the happiest she’d ever been, to being the most despondent. She literally had no control over her emotions. None whatsoever. One minute she’d be happy, helping with the arrangements for Patsy’s wedding, and the next minute she’d be crying her eyes out, feeling nothing but sorrow.
That wasn’t like her. She’d never broken out in tears at the drop of a hat. It was Henry’s fault, that was what she’d tell herself when the tears started to flow, but then, she’d have to admit it was all her fault.
He’d disappeared out of her life once before, so why had she expected this time to be different? That was who he was. A lonely man who liked traveling from place to place, case to case. He’d told her so. Not the lonely part, she’d figured that out from his upbringing. Furthermore, what had she truly expected would happen when she broke every rule imaginable?
Truth was, she should be happy. James wasn’t nearly as awful as she’d expected. He wasn’t nearly as handsome as Henry, or as tall, or as muscular. He didn’t make her insides feel all warm and gooey, either, but he was sensible. He had a very nice home, not far away from her parents’ house, so she’d be able to still keep a close watch on Jane, even after she and James got married.
There was nothing mysterious about James, either. They’d gone out three times, and Betty already knew everything there was to know about him. He was also submissive, and after years of living with her father, she told herself she needed to be thankful for that.
She also needed to be thankful that James was as opposite to Henry as humanly possible.
The case Henry had been working on was completely closed. Lane and Patsy had written all about it in the newspaper, and Betty had questioned Patsy more intently, on exactly what happened.
She’d never used Henry’s name, partially because she didn’t want anyone to ever know how she’d so foolishly tried to be someone she was not.
She still didn’t blame him. She couldn’t. Especially when it came to that night in the basement. It had been so wonderful, so earth-shattering.
Tears hit
