Saving the Scientist (The Restitution League #2)(68)

Seeking him out in his own offices had been a grave error. Doing so in full uniform sealed the man’s fate.

The man stood before him, chest heaving, mustache soaked with sweat, as if he’d been chased by the devil himself.

“The bloke barged his way into the admiral’s office,” Ravensworth explained, his words slowed by his ragged breathing. “Next thing I knew, the admiral was gone.”

He twisted his white uniform cap about in his hands as he spoke, his gaze flitting about the room like a frightened rabbit expecting a hunter to strike.

Which, of course, he would.

Sooner rather than later.

Anticipation brought a smile to his lips. “Not to worry,” he offered soothingly. “I know exactly who it was.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nudged the crystal inkwell at the top of his leather blotter, aligning it until the object was square to the edge. “A man of no consequence whatever.”

“Thank God.” The navy man slumped down in the chair across the desk as if his legs had given out beneath him. “I was worried we’d been found out. Ever since that woman escaped…”

Anger twisted in his gut at the memory. He waved off the rest of the man’s boring recitation.

She escaped him once. It wouldn’t happen a second time.

He’d have her device. He’d have her fame and her accolades and the fortune that went along with them.

“So do we rescue Admiral Helmsley?” The small-minded twit scratched at the corner of his mouth. “I can have a detachment of sailors ready in an hour. They could--”

“Secrecy.” He cut the man off. “This plan relies on the utmost secrecy. Send out your men, and we’ll have too many people asking questions.”

Ravensworth’s mustache quivered as he licked his lips. “Right. I see what you mean. What’s next then?”

“Mrs. Templeton will show us the way.”

The idiot stared, puzzlement plain in his watery gaze.

“She’ll have to move forward at some point.” He outlined the obvious. “She’ll need to show herself. Show the device. If she waits too long, she risks someone else perfecting their own version.”

“So you see,” he said as he crossed to the decanter beneath the window, “waiting won’t serve her.”

He held up the brandy, a question in his eyes.

“By all means.” Ravensworth nodded too readily, too eagerly. “Just the thing.”

“Isn’t it just,” he whispered to himself as he added a pinch of white powder to his guest’s glass. “Isn’t it just.”





Chapter 20





Ada piled a handful of smoke bombs on the bench in Edison’s workshop and clapped her hands together to shake off the dust. Still hunched over his spot at the far end of the long counter, Edison seemed oblivious to her presence.

They’d been in his workshop for hours. She doubted he’d said more than a few words to her, and those had been, “Please pass the potassium.”

She hung her head. They only had two more days before they put their grand new plan into motion. The killer would strike quickly once she surfaced.

After that there’d be no reason for her to remain.

And Edison was allowing the last crumbs of their time together to tick away.

Would the blue satin rekindle his interest?

Even as the thought rose, she discounted it. He might be a brick-headed oaf, but he wasn’t callow.

She inched closer to his side of the workbench. “None of this’ll do a bit of good if I’m not one of the speakers.”

He popped the two halves of the casing together and examined his completed device. “You’ll be there.”

Oaf. What was it going to take to catch his attention?

“We can’t barge into a professional meeting and storm the stage.” She rolled a smoke bomb down the counter.

He caught the grenade in one big hand, stopping it cold. “We won’t be barging.”

“Have I done something to offend?” The question was out of her mouth before she had a chance to reconsider.

Finally, he turned, giving her the full benefit of his attention. “Why would you say that?”

The blankness of his stare gave her pause, as if she were a stranger trying to spark up a conversation on a crowded omnibus. A toxic mix of embarrassment and anger exploded in her chest, searing her cheeks, making her breath come short and shallow.

“There’s no need for concern,” he said. “By tomorrow afternoon, you’ll be the main speaker.” He went back to his fiddling. “Spencer and Meena are handling that right now.”

“But how will they—?”

Edison squinted at one of the grenades, examining the seam. “That part’s magic to me. I just keep everyone safe.”

Safe, and safely away from his heart.

How had she not seen this side to him before?

Tears shimmering in her eyes, Ada shuffled back to her own side of the counter and tried to force her mind back to the task at hand. Thoughts of circuits and cascading chemical reactions would put her back on level ground.

She rubbed her palm over the metal casing of the smoke bomb she’d filled. The smooth, cold texture soothed her raw emotions. Meena and her husband might be able to get her on the stage, but it would be up to her to dazzle the crowd, to make her stalker so green with envy he’d want to grab her straight from the lectern.