Murder on Sisters' Row by Victoria Thompson Page B

of their questions, Sarah sat back and studied the faces of each person gathered around the desk. Miss Yingling continued to scribble in her notebook. The others exchanged glances, silently communicating as good friends often do.
    After a long moment, Mrs. Van Orner said, “I believe this Jake person will present the greatest obstacle.”
    “Yes,” Mr. Porter agreed. “If we can get rid of him, we shouldn’t have too much difficulty.”
    Mrs. Spratt-Williams turned to Sarah. “You’re going to get the baby tomorrow, is that correct?”
    “Yes.”
    Mrs. Spratt-Williams turned back to Mrs. Van Orner. “She could ask this Jake to drive her home in the carriage. She’ll be carrying the baby, so this would seem like a logical request.”
    “I wasn’t going to take the baby to my home,” Sarah said. “There’s a mission on—”
    “Your destination doesn’t matter,” Mrs. Van Orner said, “so long as you make sure he takes you in the carriage and is gone at least an hour.”
    “That’s an excellent plan. As soon as they are out of sight, we can act,” Mr. Porter said.
    “I’m sure the cook, Beulah, will offer resistance,” Sarah said.
    “I’ll go to the front door and ring the bell, the way I did the last time we tried a rescue,” Mr. Quimby said. “She’ll go to answer it, and while she’s doing that, Mr. Porter and Mrs. Van Orner will enter through the back door and go up the stairs to Amy’s room.”
    “What shall I do?” Mrs. Spratt-Williams asked almost eagerly.
    “You’ll wait in the carriage and be ready to cause a distraction if anyone takes notice of what we’re doing,” Mrs. Van Orner said.
    This assignment didn’t please Mrs. Spratt-Williams. “But I could help you in the house. If some of the other women wake up—”
    “You’ll be a tremendous help to us out in the carriage, Tonya,” Mrs. Van Orner said a little too sharply. She saw Mrs. Spratt-Williams’s hand tighten into a fist, the only outward sign of her true reaction.
    “What about the other women in the house?” Sarah asked quickly to distract them.
    “We’ll go early in the morning, while the household is still asleep,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams said. “If all goes well, they may never know we were there.”
    “I mean, what if some of them want to be rescued, too?”
    Sarah felt their resistance to this like a physical force. They exchanged glances again, their expressions grim.
    Mrs. Van Orner cleared her throat. “Then they will have to make themselves known to us.”
    “But if they’re asleep and they don’t even know you’re coming or why you’re there—”
    “Mrs. Brandt,” Mr. Porter said kindly, “the truth is that it’s unlikely any of these women will want to be rescued, even if they know why we have come.”
    “And they’re very likely to stop us from taking Amy if they have the chance,” Mr. Quimby said. “The last time we attempted a rescue in a brothel, the women themselves drove us away before we could locate the one we’d come for.”
    “Good heavens!”
    “So you see,” Mrs. Van Orner said, “if we hope to rescue this Amy, we can’t risk alarming the other women or we may not even be able to get her out.”
    “I know it’s disappointing,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams said, reaching over to pat Sarah’s hand. She’d obviously forgotten her own earlier frustration. “We’d like to save them all, but we must be content to do what we can.”
    Sarah knew that feeling only too well from her volunteer work at the Daughters of Hope Mission. “Shall I tell Amy you’re coming when I get the baby?”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mrs. Van Orner said. “She might say or do something to give it away.”
    “They may not even allow you to see her again, in any case,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams added. “They might be afraid she’ll get hysterical if she sees you taking the baby away.”
    “You must be prepared for anything,” Mr. Porter added. “One never knows how these