intent. That is, if she left her corset at home and allowed her lungs the freedom they needed.
Addie maneuvered her mechanical conveyance through Sunday afternoon traffic along the twenty-one block route to Sutton House and parked the pennyfarthing in the air shaft that served as an alley just east of the apartment building. The task of negotiating traffic had been cleansing in its own way, and as she mounted the stairs to her father’s fourth floor apartment, she actually smiled.
He didn’t know that today was the day he was going to get his family back.
. . .
Jess had worked through the weekend getting his Monday column ready, but by Sunday afternoon he’d found himself drawn back to his apartment, and deep into the Samaritan files, oblivious to the sounds of life beyond his window. But when he propped his front door open to draw a breeze through his sitting room, Jess couldn’t miss the tense tones coming from the floor above, tones that were rapidly escalating into an argument.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your reading. I won’t bother you again!”
A terse female voice that filtered down from the upper hallway teetered on the edge of control. She must be fairly shouting for her words to be heard so clearly, or perhaps the stairwell served to amplify the sound. Whatever it was, her voice came through clear as a bell. Jess looked up from the notes he was penning and tried to make sense of a mumbled response, but it was indistinguishable.
“You’re quite mad, you know. Whatever possessed me to think—“ Her strained tone sounded very much as if it were being delivered through clenched teeth. Someone upstairs had worked up a temper.
Jess cocked an ear toward his door as the voices grew louder, accompanied by several hesitant footsteps. One of the parties was leaving. End of drama.
He stretched and re-read the list of locations he intended to scout out. If he’d plotted the addresses correctly, four of the Samaritan crime scenes lay on a direct line between his residential area and the dock laborer’s union hall.
He’d check those out first, record the time it took to walk from the labor hall to each site. Based on what he found, he’d decide if it was worth following up his hunch.
His list was shaping up nicely, but the argument overhead was rapidly deteriorating. He was a people watcher, not an eavesdropper, and it had obviously become time to close his door. Jess rose.
“That’s perfectly fine with—” Suddenly the walls rattled as the door above slammed shut. In the next instant, a feminine shriek jolted him to action, and Jess tore on through his door and onto the landing. His feet seemed to assess the situation almost as instantly as his mind had. Jess grabbed the railing and vaulted up the first six steps just as a flurry of skirts careened off the fourth floor landing and into his arms.
“Ow...”
“...bloody hell...oo-oo-oo”
“...dammit-ouch...”
“...ow!”
Jess held on fiercely to the female wildcat who was doing her best to throw the both of them down the stairs. If he let go, she’d fall. If he didn’t, they’d both fall.
His left foot slid to the corner of the stair and he managed to brace it against the wall. In the same instant, he threw his own right shoulder into the woman’s flailing right arm. It was just enough to reverse the forward fall and send them both plunking into an undignified heap on the top step.
“Good god, woman, you almost got us both killed.” Gallantry vanished as Jess looked through the railing of the fourth floor landing over which they had very nearly toppled.
“Who the bloody hell are—” The young woman righted her Sunday hat, whipped her head around to get her first glimpse of her rescuer, and clamped both gloved hands over her mouth.
“Oh!”
The sound was muffled behind kid-clad fingers, and half her face was obscured. But the half that was not hidden bore reddening eyes brimming with tears.
Red or not, Jess recognized
Addie maneuvered her mechanical conveyance through Sunday afternoon traffic along the twenty-one block route to Sutton House and parked the pennyfarthing in the air shaft that served as an alley just east of the apartment building. The task of negotiating traffic had been cleansing in its own way, and as she mounted the stairs to her father’s fourth floor apartment, she actually smiled.
He didn’t know that today was the day he was going to get his family back.
. . .
Jess had worked through the weekend getting his Monday column ready, but by Sunday afternoon he’d found himself drawn back to his apartment, and deep into the Samaritan files, oblivious to the sounds of life beyond his window. But when he propped his front door open to draw a breeze through his sitting room, Jess couldn’t miss the tense tones coming from the floor above, tones that were rapidly escalating into an argument.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your reading. I won’t bother you again!”
A terse female voice that filtered down from the upper hallway teetered on the edge of control. She must be fairly shouting for her words to be heard so clearly, or perhaps the stairwell served to amplify the sound. Whatever it was, her voice came through clear as a bell. Jess looked up from the notes he was penning and tried to make sense of a mumbled response, but it was indistinguishable.
“You’re quite mad, you know. Whatever possessed me to think—“ Her strained tone sounded very much as if it were being delivered through clenched teeth. Someone upstairs had worked up a temper.
Jess cocked an ear toward his door as the voices grew louder, accompanied by several hesitant footsteps. One of the parties was leaving. End of drama.
He stretched and re-read the list of locations he intended to scout out. If he’d plotted the addresses correctly, four of the Samaritan crime scenes lay on a direct line between his residential area and the dock laborer’s union hall.
He’d check those out first, record the time it took to walk from the labor hall to each site. Based on what he found, he’d decide if it was worth following up his hunch.
His list was shaping up nicely, but the argument overhead was rapidly deteriorating. He was a people watcher, not an eavesdropper, and it had obviously become time to close his door. Jess rose.
“That’s perfectly fine with—” Suddenly the walls rattled as the door above slammed shut. In the next instant, a feminine shriek jolted him to action, and Jess tore on through his door and onto the landing. His feet seemed to assess the situation almost as instantly as his mind had. Jess grabbed the railing and vaulted up the first six steps just as a flurry of skirts careened off the fourth floor landing and into his arms.
“Ow...”
“...bloody hell...oo-oo-oo”
“...dammit-ouch...”
“...ow!”
Jess held on fiercely to the female wildcat who was doing her best to throw the both of them down the stairs. If he let go, she’d fall. If he didn’t, they’d both fall.
His left foot slid to the corner of the stair and he managed to brace it against the wall. In the same instant, he threw his own right shoulder into the woman’s flailing right arm. It was just enough to reverse the forward fall and send them both plunking into an undignified heap on the top step.
“Good god, woman, you almost got us both killed.” Gallantry vanished as Jess looked through the railing of the fourth floor landing over which they had very nearly toppled.
“Who the bloody hell are—” The young woman righted her Sunday hat, whipped her head around to get her first glimpse of her rescuer, and clamped both gloved hands over her mouth.
“Oh!”
The sound was muffled behind kid-clad fingers, and half her face was obscured. But the half that was not hidden bore reddening eyes brimming with tears.
Red or not, Jess recognized
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