His name was Owen Rusk, and he had worked as a private courier for less than a year.
The work paid better than carrying farm produce, but he had learned quickly that a sealed letter could be more dangerous than an open weapon.
Eleanor demanded to know whether Caleb had seen the locket.
“He recognized it,” Owen said.
“Did he say anything?”
“Only that it was yours.”
“And you brought him back?”
“The men at Red Cedar say he disappeared.”
Eleanor pressed the edge of her desk.
“You were told to bring him alive.”
“I was also told he would be waiting.”
“Who told you that?”
“Doctor Avery.”
She looked up.
“Avery hired you?”
Owen nodded.
“He gave me the packet with the locket inside.”
Eleanor stared at him.
She had instructed Avery to send proof that Caleb was needed, but she had not authorized the physician to put the locket in a stranger’s hands.
“Did Avery tell you why he chose that object?”
“He said Mercer would know what it meant.”
“Did he give you anything else?”
Owen hesitated.
“There was a list of numbers in the dispatch case.”
“What numbers?”
“Payments.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Eleanor demanded to see the list, and Owen produced a narrow paper that had been folded against the saddlebag seam.
Three entries corresponded to dates when Caleb had been summoned after midnight.
Beside each was a mark identifying a household expense that Eleanor had never authorized.
The final entry bore Nathaniel’s initials.
Eleanor read the paper again and understood that the colonel had been collecting evidence about her private conduct long before he challenged the child’s parentage.
The list had not been sent to protect Caleb.
It had been prepared to control her and to offer a story in which Caleb could be blamed while Nathaniel remained beyond scrutiny.
“Do you have a copy?” she asked Owen.
“No.”
“Does Avery?”
“He wrote it.”
Eleanor folded the paper.
“You will tell him you lost it on the road.”
Owen stared.
“He won’t believe that.”
“Then he can come and ask me.”
The courier left uncertain whether he had survived a mistake or entered a larger danger.
By evening Eleanor had sent another message, this time not to Caleb but to Benjamin Hale.
It asked for a private meeting in which she would bring records related to Clara’s child.
Benjamin read the request and recognized the price hidden behind its polite wording.
