“No.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Your face did.”
“We need Wren’s papers.”
“Yes.”
“We do not rob his saddlebag.”
“How else?”
Nola thought.
Then smiled.
Garrick looked concerned.
“I hate that expression.”
“Good.”
Dr. Wren returned the following morning.
Just as Nola expected.
Crow needed the sale completed.
Weston needed to appear sick.
Wren needed to make sure he stayed that way.
Nola prepared the room.
Weston was healthy enough to protest.
“You want me to stay in bed?”
“Yes.”
“Boring.”
“I'll give you jam.”
“Two.”
“Two what?”
“Biscuit.”
“You negotiate like Crow.”
Weston did not know what that meant.
“Two.”
“Fine.”
The boy lay beneath blankets with a damp cloth on his forehead despite having no fever.
Clara sat nearby looking solemn.
Too solemn.
Nola whispered:
“Stop smiling.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re terrible at lying.”
Clara immediately smiled.
Nola groaned.
Eli waited behind the pantry door downstairs.
Not supposed to participate.
Obviously participating.
Wren arrived at ten.
He went upstairs.
Nola stayed close.
He examined Weston.
The boy had strict instructions to speak little.
“Still fever?”
Wren asked.
Weston looked toward Nola.
She said:
“Every night.”
Wren opened his bag.
New brown bottle.
There.
Nola’s heartbeat accelerated.
He poured a spoon.
Garrick appeared in the doorway.
His face looked murderous despite hours of rehearsal.
Wren did not notice.
Nola stepped forward.
“I can give it.”
The doctor looked at her.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I'll handle it.”
He moved toward Weston.
Nola intentionally knocked the water basin from the table.
Water flooded the floor.
Wren swore.
Nola apologized dramatically.
The doctor stepped back.
Garrick helped move the bedding.
Chaos.
Exactly as planned.
Downstairs, Eli slipped from the pantry.
The saddlebag remained beside the front door.
He opened it.
Inside:
Bandages.
Bottles.
Tools.
Papers.
He took nothing.
Nola had made that clear.
Find.
Remember.
Do not steal.
Eli scanned.
Invoices.
A letter.
Crow’s name.
Then footsteps.
Deputy Pike entered through the front door.
Eli froze.
The deputy saw him crouched beside Wren’s bag.
“What are you doing?”
Eli bolted.
Pike grabbed his collar.
Eli kicked backward.
The deputy cursed.
Upstairs, Garrick heard.
Everything fell apart.
He ran down.
Nola followed.
Pike held Eli by one arm.
“What was he doing in the doctor’s bag?”
Garrick descended the final stairs.
“Let go.”
Pike smiled.
“Boy stealing?”
“Let go.”
Wren appeared behind Nola.
His face changed when he saw the open saddlebag.
Then he understood.
All of it.
Nola saw.
Wren moved first.
He reached inside his coat.
Not a gun.
A folded paper.
He threw it into the stove.
Nola lunged.
Too late.
Flame caught the edge.