“But we found his daughter.”
Caleb went still.
“Where?”
Martin looked toward him.
“She works at a bookbinding shop three streets from here.”
For a moment, Caleb couldn't speak.
Then he rose.
“Can we speak with her?”
The attorney nodded.
“I'd prefer to arrange the meeting carefully. She's frightened, and we don't want to make her feel she's being pursued by another set of strangers.”
Caleb stopped.
He considered that.
Then nodded.
“You're right.”
Martin smiled faintly.
For a moment, he studied the enormous mountain man.
Then said quietly, “Your father would be proud of how carefully you've preserved these records.”
Caleb looked down.
For several seconds, he couldn't answer.
Then whispered, “He died believing nobody would ever listen.”
Martin's expression softened.
“Then let's give the evidence a fair hearing.”
Ruth Harrow was thirty-nine, with dark hair streaked with gray and the wary expression of someone who had spent too many years being disappointed by promises.
She met Eleanor and Caleb in Martin Pierce's office the following afternoon.
At first, she barely spoke.
She examined Caleb's face.
Then his hands.
Then the old document case resting beside the table.
Finally, she asked, “Your father was Nathaniel Mercer?”
Caleb nodded.
“Yes.”
Ruth looked toward him.
For several seconds, her expression remained guarded.
Then she whispered, “My father said you died.”
Caleb took a breath.
“I nearly did.”
She looked toward the old scar visible at his collar.
Her eyes widened.
For a moment, she stared.
Then covered her mouth.
“Oh.”
Caleb lowered his gaze.
Ruth shook her head.
“I'm sorry.”
He nodded.
“It's all right.”
She took a breath.
Then looked toward Eleanor.
“And you're Thomas Bell's daughter?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Yes.”
Ruth stared for a moment.
Then something in her face softened.
“My father used to talk about yours.”
Eleanor felt a tightness in her chest.
“Did he?”
Ruth nodded.
“He said Thomas Bell was one of the few people who refused to take Solomon Whitmore's money.”
Eleanor looked down.
For a moment, she could almost hear her father's voice again.
Then she asked quietly, “Is Samuel alive?”
Ruth's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Caleb went still.
The woman continued.
“He's very weak. His health has been failing for years.”
Eleanor leaned forward.
“Where is he?”
Ruth hesitated.
Then looked toward Martin Pierce.
The attorney nodded reassuringly.
“You may tell them what you're comfortable sharing. We can arrange an independent meeting and provide whatever safeguards are appropriate.”