“It was Bolkonsky who sent the mob here, wasn’t it? He stirred them up, and only pretended to warn me—”
“As I said, you made it easy for us. The people in town were already upset when they found Ketchum’s body, especially after the attack on May’s father. They were looking for someone to blame. Feodor told them that he was afraid your new patient, Quentin, had something to do with it. He was worried that you had lost control over your loonies. People listened to him—he’s a doctor, after all!” She laughed. “The rest took care of itself. All I had to do was get May to come with me while you were busy. Quentin brought her back just in time, but she wanted to follow him when he left. I told her I could take her to him. Feodor’s man was waiting for us outside.”
The third set of footprints. “Bolkonsky wasn’t here?”
“He’s coming to get me.” Irene’s eyes glazed over with visions of her glorious future. “All the city will be at my feet, just like Feodor. You can’t stop me now!”
Johanna followed her expectant gaze to the lane. Not for a instant did Johanna believe that Bolkonsky intended to take Irene away. A man such as he would have no personal interest in a haggard, aging actress. He’d merely used Irene as men had used her before, to serve his own ends.
Nothing about Bolkonsky was as it seemed. He’d deceived Johanna time and again—put the residents of the Haven at risk—as a ploy to return May to her father. He’d given her the news about the attack on Ingram, and planted the blame for Mr. Ketchum’s death on Quentin.
Had Quentin been seen near Ketchum’s body, or was that another of Bolkonsky’s fabrications? Why was Bolkonsky so dedicated to Ingram’s cause? Was it money, or something else she couldn’t begin to imagine?
Putting such speculation from her mind, Johanna followed the male footprints as they crossed the orchard and continued on toward the wood.
“You won’t find her,” Irene shouted after her. “You’ve lost Quentin, too. You’ve failed, Johanna!”
Her triumphant words nipped at Johanna’s heels, stinging with every step. Irene assumed she’d give up. Would Bolkonsky, and May’s father, assume the same? Ingram had his business in San Francisco. He’d take May there, secure in his power.
Yet Bolkonsky had carefully avoided bringing in the authorities at any time in their dealings, preferring the use of subterfuge to steal May from the Haven. There must be a reason. Perhaps May’s father had wanted certain secrets out of the public eye.
Secrets Johanna might attempt to expose, at the risk of her own professional destruction. But hadn’t she already compromised her vocation, possibly beyond mending?
She passed out of the orchard and into the wild groves of oak and madrona. Her eyes caught a sudden change in the earth, and she stopped.
The ground was trampled here, marked by some struggle, and the man’s footprints formed a mad pattern intermingled with the spoor of a wolf.
This was where Quentin had gone, after chasing the mob away. He’d followed May’s captor, and caught up with him.
But where were they?
Johanna knelt to study the tracks. May’s footprints had also reappeared, as if her captor had set her down after carrying her for some distance. Johanna found a final set of prints, almost lost amid the others.
Those of a barefoot man, about Quentin’s size.
Leaves rattled a few feet away. Johanna scooted about to face the sound. A man’s blunt-fingered hand reached out from a cluster of bushes, to the accompaniment of a hoarse groan.
Johanna pushed aside branches. The man was a stranger, a big, nasty-looking character with a scarred face and shoes that matched the prints of May’s kidnapper. Aside from a few scratches, he seemed unharmed, though he was just recovering consciousness. Johanna had no pity to spare for him.
“Where is May?” she demanded.
“Wolf,” he muttered. His eyes opened, bloodshot and terrified. “Devil!”
She grabbed his shoulders. “Who took May?”
“Th’ devil man!” He covered his eyes like a child hiding from a nightmare. “He’ll kill me.”
“Only if I do not.” She tightened her grip. “Bolkonsky hired you to take May from the Haven, didn’t he?”