Isaiah did not thank him.
Permission to protect his own family was not a gift he intended to mistake for kindness.
He left the bedroom and walked into a hallway that smelled of beeswax and damp wool.
At the stair landing, he stopped beside the portrait of Colonel Whitmore.
The painted man looked down with a rigid smile and one hand resting on a polished riding crop.
Isaiah had passed that portrait thousands of times.
Today he noticed the dark scratch along its lower frame.
He remembered Thomas striking that frame with his satchel during an argument on the afternoon before he vanished.
The memory brought another detail into focus.
Thomas had told Isaiah that a house could hide its secrets in plain sight because nobody questioned what they were accustomed to seeing.
Isaiah touched the damaged frame.
Something moved behind it.
He pulled his hand away as footsteps approached from below.
Silas Pike stood at the foot of the staircase.
The overseer was broad and clean-shaven, with a silver watch chain across his waistcoat.
His expression was almost friendly.
“Mr.
Whitmore says you’re free to walk around the house now?”
Isaiah kept his eyes on Pike’s face.
“He sent me to fetch my sister.”
Pike smiled.
“That’s unfortunate.”
“Why?”
“Because she isn’t in the kitchen.”
Isaiah felt the blood drain from his hands.
“Where is she?”
Pike reached into his coat and produced a folded piece of paper.
“The trader from Richmond arrived early.”
Isaiah took one step down.
Pike’s smile vanished.
“Careful, Cole.”
“Where is Ruth?”
“She’s waiting in the wagon.”
Isaiah looked past him toward the front windows.
Through the rain he could see the outline of a covered carriage beside the stable yard.
He also saw two men standing near the gate.
Neither man belonged to Willow Creek.
Pike unfolded the paper with exaggerated care.
“Your sister’s transfer was authorized yesterday.”
“By whom?”
Pike held the page up.
At the bottom was Richard Whitmore’s signature.
Isaiah knew the signature because he had repaired the master’s writing desk and seen the same sloping letters on countless receipts.
He also knew Richard had been away yesterday.
The truth arrived with a cold certainty.
Pike was not merely hiding an old crime.
He was still committing new ones.
And someone in the house had given him reason to believe he could get away with it.
Isaiah turned toward the stairs.
Pike moved to block his path.
“You don’t want to disturb the family again.”
