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Dante remains frozen for ten, twenty, thirty seconds. After what she’d told him finally sinks in, he does the unthinkable.
He smiles.
It’s a wide smile. Slightly crooked and blindingly bright. The kind of smile that had once made Anna melt whenever she saw it. Now it only leaves her frustrated, for it means he doesn’t believe anything she just said.
“You really thinkmyfather was behind all of this?” Dante says. “Why would he do that? He’s as patriotic as they come.”
“This wasn’t about devotion to America. In fact, it had nothing to do with the war. This was greed, pure and simple. Your father wanted to expand his holdings and grow his wealth while not spending too much money in the process. My father’s railroad wasthe easiest target. Did you know your father had tried to buy my father’s company? Twice?”
“I didn’t,” Dante says, his lips still curved.
“Both times, my father’s answer was an outright no.”
Dante’s smile falters. “Andmyfather doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“Exactly,” Anna says with a nod. “Angered by my father’s refusal to sell, he created an act of sabotage, framed my father, devalued the company, and bought it dirt cheap. As a bonus, he was awarded the lucrative military contract my father received. Millions of dollars that flowed directly to your father, who then divided it up and gave it to the five other people in this lounge tonight. A reward for doing his bidding, betraying my father, and betraying their country.”
Dante’s gaze floats around the lounge, briefly alighting on each of the others gathered there. His stare contains a mix of confusion and amusement, like he still thinks all of it is simply some elaborate prank.
“But why? Why would any of them take part in something like that?”
Anna doesn’t know. That’s one of the reasons she brought them all together like this. She needs to learn why each of them did it. Now she watches them, her breath lodged in her throat, waiting to see if one of them has the guts to answer.
No one does.
Weaklings,Anna thinks as she gestures to Seamus to bring her the briefcase. Once it’s in her hands, she raises it so the others can see.
“In the past year, I have obtained dozens of documents detailing the plot against my father. Not the ones you forged,” she says, glancing toward Sal. “Or that you planted in our home,” she adds, shooting a harsh look Edith’s way. “Real ones. Takentogether, they tie all of you and Kenneth Wentworth to the deaths of thirty-seven people and the cover-up that happened afterward.”
“You’re bluffing,” Lapsford says.
“I can assure you, Mr. Lapsford, that I’m not.” Anna holds out the case. “Would you like to see for yourself?”
“Iwould,” Sal says as she marches toward Anna, grabs the briefcase, and takes it back to her chair. There, she sets the case atop a small cocktail table and opens it up.
Anna and Seamus watch from the back of the car as the others draw closer to Sal. Judd Dodge stands behind her, adjusting his glasses. Herb Pulaski pulls a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wipes his glistening brow while Edith Gerhardt blinks several times, as if preparing to see a ghost. Even Dante, still pitched somewhere between shock and incredulity, cranes his neck from his spot at the piano, straining for a glimpse.
By now Sal has the lid fully lifted. Inside the briefcase is a large sheet of paper folded into quarters. Sal opens it to full size, revealing a blueprint.
“What is this?” she asks everyone and no one.
Judd Dodge reaches over her shoulder and snatches the blueprint from her hands. “It’s my design. For the locomotive. The real one. The one that—”
“Don’t say another word,” Lapsford warns.
Judd ignores him and turns to Anna, his face paler than the white lines curving over the blue paper in his hands. “How did you get this?”
Anna honestly doesn’t know. By the time all the evidence was presented to her, it was too late to ask Aunt Retta when or how she had gathered it.
“What else is in there?” Lapsford asks while lunging for the briefcase.
“Nothing,” Sally says, which is the truth. Other than the blueprint held in Dodge’s trembling hands, the briefcase is empty.
“Told you she was bluffing,” Lapsford says. “She only has dirt on Judd.”
Judd Dodge gulps. “And that’s enough to hang me.”
Lapsford rips the blueprint from Judd’s hands, leaving behind only a corner scrap that remains pinched between Judd’s thumb and forefinger. Lapsford keeps tearing, shredding the blueprint into ragged pieces that he tosses onto the floor.