give men the task of toting? They seemed better suited to lifting and carrying the heavy trays. And the women hadn’t mentioned the incident involving the elevator. She pondered asking a direct question about Harmon Bratcher’s death but feared sounding too nosy on her first day. A good investigator knew when to push and when to back away. For now she’d back away. At least about Bratcher.
She shifted the focus in a personal direction. “What do the children do?”
Helena wiped a smear of jam from her mouth with a checked napkin and then pushed the stained cloth into the bottom of her empty tin. “Whatever they can. Line up empty chocolate boxes for the sorters, put paper wrappers on trays, scrub down the machinery, sweep under the tables, cart out the trash. There’s always something for them to do.”
Caroline had witnessed children in other factories performing dangerous tasks. She blew out a small breath, relieved the jobs here wouldn’t cause injury even if working did steal their opportunity for education. But injury was possible, because one man had died. She started to ask how long each of the women had worked at the Dinsmore factory, but a shrill whistle sounded. Lunch break was over.
The workers unfolded themselves from the benches and shuffled toward the door, depositing their empty buckets and boxes with a series of clanks and thuds on a table on their way out. Caroline fell in with those leaving while another group filed in. In the middle of the line entering the lunchroom, Ollie lifted his hand and caught Caroline’s attention. He mouthed, “Step aside.”
She hesitated, her feet slowing. The woman behind her bumped into her shoulder, pushing her out of the line.
Ollie leaped to her side and touched her elbow. “Do you still want that sandwich?” His pale eyes, lined with lashes far too thick to belong on such a rugged, handsome face, offered a silent apology.
Her stomach rumbled. She wanted the sandwich. But even more she wanted to know where he’d been. She hadn’t taken him to be the kind to make a promise and then break it. But there wasn’t time for either the sandwich or an explanation. “I have to get busy.” She moved sideways, inching toward her work area.
“I’ll save one for you,” he called after her. “We can meet at shift’s end.”
Oh, the temptation. And not because she wanted the sandwich. Ollie’s attention stirred something to life within her. Had she ever relished the overtures of a man before? If only she weren’t on an assignment … But she wasn’t here to be wooed. Besides, Letta would be waiting to share about her first day at school. Caroline wouldn’t abandon the girl. “I can’t. I have a commitment.”
She turned her back on him and scurried off as if a coyote nipped at her heels. Ollie Moore could easily become a distraction. She’d need to keep her distance. Forcing her tired arms to lift yet another stack of trays, she replayed the disappointment clouding his face as she’d refused his offer. For the remainder of the afternoon, the image danced in her memory, pricking her with regret. As much as she always found her position as an investigator fulfilling, on this day responsibility was a greater burden to bear than the filled trays she carried.
Caroline
“Thank you again, miss … I mean, Carrie.” Letta’s shy grin split her face.
“I’ll be here tomorrow, just like I promised. You can count on it!”
Caroline watched Letta move up the sidewalk, her steps so light she almost seemed to float. Her one day as a schoolgirl seemed to have carved years from her countenance. At the beginning of their hour together, the girl had confided she felt awkward sitting among the first-year students, all much smaller and younger than she was, but when Caroline asked if she wanted to quit, her eyes had opened wide. “Oh, no, miss!” she’d exclaimed. “School’s a marvelous place! I want to stay until I’ve learned all my head can hold!”
She shifted the focus in a personal direction. “What do the children do?”
Helena wiped a smear of jam from her mouth with a checked napkin and then pushed the stained cloth into the bottom of her empty tin. “Whatever they can. Line up empty chocolate boxes for the sorters, put paper wrappers on trays, scrub down the machinery, sweep under the tables, cart out the trash. There’s always something for them to do.”
Caroline had witnessed children in other factories performing dangerous tasks. She blew out a small breath, relieved the jobs here wouldn’t cause injury even if working did steal their opportunity for education. But injury was possible, because one man had died. She started to ask how long each of the women had worked at the Dinsmore factory, but a shrill whistle sounded. Lunch break was over.
The workers unfolded themselves from the benches and shuffled toward the door, depositing their empty buckets and boxes with a series of clanks and thuds on a table on their way out. Caroline fell in with those leaving while another group filed in. In the middle of the line entering the lunchroom, Ollie lifted his hand and caught Caroline’s attention. He mouthed, “Step aside.”
She hesitated, her feet slowing. The woman behind her bumped into her shoulder, pushing her out of the line.
Ollie leaped to her side and touched her elbow. “Do you still want that sandwich?” His pale eyes, lined with lashes far too thick to belong on such a rugged, handsome face, offered a silent apology.
Her stomach rumbled. She wanted the sandwich. But even more she wanted to know where he’d been. She hadn’t taken him to be the kind to make a promise and then break it. But there wasn’t time for either the sandwich or an explanation. “I have to get busy.” She moved sideways, inching toward her work area.
“I’ll save one for you,” he called after her. “We can meet at shift’s end.”
Oh, the temptation. And not because she wanted the sandwich. Ollie’s attention stirred something to life within her. Had she ever relished the overtures of a man before? If only she weren’t on an assignment … But she wasn’t here to be wooed. Besides, Letta would be waiting to share about her first day at school. Caroline wouldn’t abandon the girl. “I can’t. I have a commitment.”
She turned her back on him and scurried off as if a coyote nipped at her heels. Ollie Moore could easily become a distraction. She’d need to keep her distance. Forcing her tired arms to lift yet another stack of trays, she replayed the disappointment clouding his face as she’d refused his offer. For the remainder of the afternoon, the image danced in her memory, pricking her with regret. As much as she always found her position as an investigator fulfilling, on this day responsibility was a greater burden to bear than the filled trays she carried.
Caroline
“Thank you again, miss … I mean, Carrie.” Letta’s shy grin split her face.
“I’ll be here tomorrow, just like I promised. You can count on it!”
Caroline watched Letta move up the sidewalk, her steps so light she almost seemed to float. Her one day as a schoolgirl seemed to have carved years from her countenance. At the beginning of their hour together, the girl had confided she felt awkward sitting among the first-year students, all much smaller and younger than she was, but when Caroline asked if she wanted to quit, her eyes had opened wide. “Oh, no, miss!” she’d exclaimed. “School’s a marvelous place! I want to stay until I’ve learned all my head can hold!”
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