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“I don’t know.” But Cal still had that sick feeling, and it was only growing worse. They moved back as a horse pulling a wagon was brought close to the rail car. The men covered the body with a blanket then lifted it and placed it in the back of the wagon. But as they moved it, the blanket fell away, giving Cal and Bridget a glimpse of the dead man’s face.
Bridget caught his hand. Hard. Cal didn’t react, merely stared at the face before slowly backing away.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Bridget stumbled. “Callahan, I think I will be sick.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll keep walking.”
“I can’t.” She stumbled again. “My legs.”
“Keep walking.” He was all but dragging her now. Too much became clear to him the moment that blanket fell away. And he knew that voice from the shadows now. No random onlooker but Michael, from Sean MacDonald’s house. Was it coincidence that he was here tonight?
Cal did not think so.
Bridget stayed on her feet, walking as fast as he. Her whole body shook, and he could hear her teeth rattling. Finally, when they’d turned down several streets and Cal had assured himself they weren’t being followed, he pushed her against the wall of a building. “Take a deep breath.” He rubbed her arms to try and warm her.
“I’m not c-cold,” she managed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Christ Jaysus, Bridget. You’re white as a ghost and no wonder. I about pissed meself when I saw his face.”
“He’ll come for us next,” she whispered. “With our association, he must suspect us.”
“If he’s as clever as we’ve been told, MacDonald suspects everyone. The question is whether we passed the test tonight or not. I think we did.”
“What makes you say that? MacDonald may just be playing with us, like a cat plays with a mouse.” She bit her lip and whispered. “Perhaps Donnelly was a warning.”
He cupped her face in his hands. Her skin was icy and pale. “We don’t know that. Donnelly told me he overheard something he shouldn’t have. MacDonald may have been planning to kill him for days or weeks. When Donnelly ran, MacDonald pounced.”
“Do you think he’s waiting for us to run?”
“I think he’s watching us and deciding how much he can trust us. He invited me to attend a rally against the Act of Union outside Dublin, in a place called Clontarf, tomorrow. I’ll go and find out what I can.”
“Are you mad?” She grabbed his hands, pressing them against her cheeks. “He’ll kill you too.”
“He’ll kill me and you for sure if we try and run. Our only hope is to prove we can be trusted by Innishfree. Baron has lost two men already. If he loses us, this mission can’t be salvaged.”
She pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile or a sob. He wasn’t sure which. “You finally called it a mission.”
He had, and he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps because a man was dead now. Perhaps because he was starting to realize that no amount of money was worth risking his life and Bridget’s.
And maybe it had never been about the money in the first place.
“Decoding letters, sneaking about in the middle of the night, dead bodies. I suppose I feel more like an agent than a swindler now.”
“I still don’t think you should go to the rally.”
“It’s the best thing I can do. If I go, it shows MacDonald we have nothing to fear from Donnelly’s death. That we’re on MacDonald’s side.”
She stared at him for several heartbeats then, to his surprise, she pulled him into her arms. “I’m scared.”
He patted her back. “It will be alright.”
But the truth was, he’d never been so scared in his life as he was in the moment that blanket fell away. Because he recognized the battered face of Patrick Donnelly under it, and if the bruises and brokenness of the man’s features told any sort of story, it was that Donnelly had been tortured before he’d been hung.
And Cal could only hope Donnelly had been strong enough not to reveal Cal’s secret.
