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  “But, Rafe, surely this has nothing to do with Dr. Chen and his journal.”

  “I think Hartley is up to his ears in it. And it doesn’t look good. The worst part is you going to Molokai and working with him. I don’t trust him. I intend to look into it when in San Francisco.”

  She remembered the day Herald had arrived at Kea Lani, not long after Dr. Jerome returned to Hawaii from his long travels. The family had gathered on the front lanai after luncheon when a carriage pulled up bringing Herald from San Francisco. Even her father was surprised to see him in Honolulu, but not nearly as surprised as he’d been to learn that Dr. Chen had died from an overdose of a rare poisonous plant in his house in San Francisco’s Chinatown.

  Herald had brought the journal containing Dr. Chen’s writings on his medical research of tropical diseases encountered on travels in the Far East and India, along with the news that Dr. Chen had wanted her father to have it. Jerome had asked Herald to write it into a manuscript form, and was even now trying to get the Board of Health to publish it.

  So far, her father had not been successful in gaining the Board’s interest. “It’s all a bunch of herbs and snake venom,” Dr. Ames had quipped. “And that doesn’t grow new fingers and toes.”

  “Am I such a fool?” her father had snapped. “Do you think I’d recommend sprinkled posy petals? This journal logs Dr. Chen’s findings after years of research and travel.”

  Her father had become so upset over what he’d considered a humiliating insult before his peers on the Board that he had turned and walked out of the meeting.

  Eden walked with Rafe beneath the indomitable sun.

  “Now, this meeting tomorrow with Liliuokalani. You say Nora will be there with Dr. Jerome. What about Hartley?” He looked toward her.

  “Yes, Dr. Jerome will introduce us both as his research assistants.”

  Eden had a feeling that more trouble loitered somewhere just out of sight.

  “Did your father ever ask Hartley about his past workings with Chen?”

  “I don’t re—Oh,” she breathed in an uncertain voice. Eden paused abruptly beside dark lava rocks with the sea and white sand below.

  Eden remembered an incident at the breakfast table at Koko Head when her father had made a strange statement about Herald. She turned quickly to Rafe, and his gaze sharpened.

  “Remember something?”

  “Yes, I’d completely forgotten until just now. It happened at Tamarind House when I was there with Dr. Jerome and Zachary, soon after Nora was ill. Candace had sent me a message asking me to come, that Nora wished to see me.”

  “Yes?” he said with interest. “I remember.”

  “I told my father there was something about Herald that puzzled me. He seemed surprised and asked what it was. I told him it was something Herald said to me at Rat Alley a few months ago.”

  “Rat Alley? The plague, you mean?”

  “Yes, you remember how we were there with our medical tents? Well, at one point, Herald’s words showed an unexpected burst of resentment toward Dr. Chen.”

  “Resentment! You’re sure that’s correct?”

  “Yes, it seemed quite odd, don’t you think?”

  “I should say. Did he say what it was about Chen that still riled him?”

  “Not exactly. That’s why I later asked Dr. Jerome at Tamarind House. Herald had said something about Dr. Chen having ‘no courage’ when it came to boldness in research. One must ‘take risks’ was the way he’d put it.”

  Rafe lapsed into ponderous silence. She might have thought he’d forgotten she was beside him.

  “So,” he mused. “Dr. Chen lacked the courage to take risks. What was Dr. Jerome’s response to that?”

  “Unfortunately, we were interrupted and I didn’t follow through on it, but I mentioned Herald having told me that Jerome had helped him in India. My father agreed that he’d helped Herald, who had worked for Dr. Chen in Calcutta. He’d gotten himself into alcohol and gambling problems. He was dismissed by Dr. Chen, and his reputation was tarnished.”

  “So Chen dismissed him. On alcohol and gambling?”

  “Well, he didn’t explain. I assumed it was.”

  Rafe frowned. “Hartley’s resentment seems to go beyond that. He spoke, you said, of a fault as he saw it—of Chen not willing to take risks. Of what kind of risks was he referring … medical?”

  She pondered, considering. “I see what you mean …” She hadn’t considered medical risks before, but Rafe could be right. Her thoughts raced. Risks … medical risks … why was this so glaring to her at the moment? What had happened to make her think there was something more she could mention?

  Rafe leaned back against a great lava bolder. “What you’ve told me strengthens an idea I’ve had for some time about Hartley. When he showed up at Kea Lani that day, he claimed he’d come from a two-weeklong, warm and cozy visit with Dr. Chen in San Francisco. Remember?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “He implied he and Chen had shared a deep camaraderie as they mulled over the good old days when, with Dr. Jerome, they’d worked together with heart-to-heart conviction. After having listened to Hartley, one might have thought him to be devoted to Dr. Chen.”

  “Yes … and that was why I was surprised at Rat Alley when he showed resentment toward him. But, Rafe, there’s something else I wanted to tell you. At Tamarind House my father made a strange statement. After commenting on leading Herald to Christ in Calcutta, he said something had occurred recently—‘in the last few weeks’ was how he put it—that now raised a serious doubt.”

  “I don’t suppose he explained?”

  “No. He asked me not to discuss it; he intended to look into the matter.”

  “In the last few weeks …” Rafe repeated, while looking below. From the mound they stood there was an excellent view of the sea with the wavelets dancing in over the white sand. “The last few weeks from the time at Tamarind House would bring us close to Hartley’s arrival from San Francisco.”

  Eden grew cautious. Her eyes met Rafe’s. She saw the gravity in their depths.

  “With Dr. Chen’s medical journal,” she said.

  “With the journal and the news that Chen had died, yes. So Hartley told you Dr. Jerome had rescued him from drink and gambling in Calcutta?”

  “I do remember Herald once saying that he’d been ‘down to grubbing’ as he put it, with the untouchables in Calcutta when my father found him and took him in.”

  “One could almost say Hartley feels indebted to him.”

  She did not want to say this, but she must. “He told me there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for my father,” she admitted.

  In the moment of silence that followed she seemed to hear a judge’s gavel rap the bar as a harsh verdict was pronounced.

  Rafe watched her, his expression unreadable. “I assume Hartley can offer interesting scraps of information on Chen’s research into Eastern medicine, herbs and that sort of thing?”

  “He’s practically an encyclopedia at times. He worked for Dr. Chen in India and, he says, other places in the Far East.”

  “Does he seem highly educated? Could he be a bacteriologist for instance?”

  “It seems unlikely. Otherwise he would boast of it.”

  “Maybe not.”

  She looked at him, wondering. “Well, he’s not permitted to engage in higher research at Kalihi. One would think if he did have such a degree he would display it.”

  “Unless he can’t.”

  “Well, there might be something in his medical background or past work that he wished to conceal.”

  He watched her pensively. Eden suddenly remembered. A slow revulsion crept over her heart.

  Rafe drew his brows together and caught hold of her. “Darling, what was it?”

  “Oh Rafe, there’s something unpleasant. It was yesterday morning when you came to Kalihi. I’d been talking to Herald about improving the environment for the suspected lepers in the holding station—but he sh
owed great coldness of heart in his response, almost as if they were fit for nothing except—experimentation.” She could not go on.

  “Coldhearted indeed. Would Dr. Chen trust the journal to someone like that?”

  She drew her brows together.

  “Dr. Chen believed in my father’s work, just as my father believed in his. Surely he would not have wanted his years of research to go unnoticed.”

  “I’m sure he did approve of your father’s research, or they wouldn’t have teamed up as they did for a time in India. He might have turned his work over to your father in the end, if he’d lived long enough.”

  If he’d lived long enough? The inference brought her a cold shiver. “Then—I don’t understand. You’re not accusing my father—Oh! I can’t even say the horrid word.”

  “Murder? Of course not. I’m merely suggesting someone, Hartley in particular, had opportunity to take the journal within the short period surrounding Dr. Chen’s demise.”

  Eden fought against her natural aversion to Rafe investigating incidents that affected her father. “Lord, help me to be wiser,” she prayed. “Give me courage to trust in Your plan. Then may truth prevail and lead to repentance.”

  I can’t throw away my future happiness with Rafe to protect wrongdoing, even if the doer is Dr. Jerome.

  Eden’s heart continued to thud unhappily. I must face the truth. … I must guard my own integrity before God, and not make excuses for those I love, or causes I care about. If God has blessed these plans to go to Molokai, I will still meet Rebecca and ask her about Kip before she dies. And we can still help the lepers by showing mercy and sending the printing press. Rafe is already doing much to assist. I must trust the Lord to work this out according to His plans, not my own. My plans are too easily interlaced with wrong methods and motives. Lord, help me yield completely to what You desire for all of those involved.

  Her soul grew silent.

  She saw then that Rafe watched her with restrained anxiety and compassion. The fact that he understood the distress this situation brought her made her more comfortable in his love. She bravely straightened her shoulders. She didn’t want him to think she was the sort of woman who folded up and collapsed at each crisis. Life was filled with earthquakes and storms, and a Christian must find strength in God’s promises and His presence. “My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”

  And He has given me a man who will defend me and aid me through a crisis. What more could she have in this life?

  The wind rustled the trees. She found her voice again, though her throat was dry with emotion.

  “But while there may be something in Hartley’s past,” she agreed calmly, “it does not prove he stole Dr. Chen’s journal in order to bring it to my father, if that’s what you think.”

  “That is what I think, Eden. And it looks as though you’ve also realized it.”

  “Yes, but somehow I just can’t bring myself to accept it. I can’t see my father being knowingly involved in a dreadful theft.”

  “The present situation is murky enough to permit your heart’s opinion,” he said gently. “If his comment to you at Koko Head is taken at face value, then he wasn’t involved in Hartley’s conniving. He may have just discovered the truth some weeks after Hartley’s arrival. Though troubled by the implications, he would have been in a quandary over what to do about it. As time went on Hartley would have been able to get by with his illusion of being a dedicated friend to Dr. Chen, because—” Rafe stopped. His jaw set and he said no more.

  Eden understood. There could be truth in what Rafe was saying. Yes, she had suspected it all along. Dr. Chen, Chinatown, the journal, all of it had been lurking in the background of her mind. The only other person who knew the truth that day at Kea Lani was Dr. Jerome, and he had kept silent when Herald claimed his devotion to Dr. Chen and produced the medical journal, so esteemed by her father. Had he kept silent because of his desire to have the journal?

  She said with measured calmness, “I feared there was something wrong about the journal. I thought you recognized it too.”

  Rafe looked at her for a long moment. “Hartley aroused my suspicion from the first.”

  “Dr. Chen would have wanted the written record of his years of study and travel turned over to someone of like mind. Herald claimed Dr. Chen wanted his work brought to my father. We both heard his explanation.”

  “What was it you told me earlier about Hartley saying there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Dr. Jerome?”

  She recalled her own words with a sigh.

  “Yes … then, darling, just what are you suggesting?”

  “That Hartley had the opportunity to take the journal. He was in the vicinity of Chinatown within a three-week period of his illness and death.”

  “There was someone else, including Dr. Chen’s own cousin,” she said.

  His gaze sharpened. “Dr. Chen had a cousin from Chinatown?”

  “Why, yes, Herald mentioned him once. I can’t recall his name.”

  “Darling, consider the Chinese man—the kingpin that Dr. Jerome met with outside Hunnewell’s!”

  She stared at him, then drew in a breath. “Rafe—could it be? His cousin stole the journal and sold it to Herald?”

  He shook his head, pacing. “If Hartley did buy the journal, then he couldn’t have paid much for it. Who pays him? Dr. Jerome.”

  “Yes, I see. Father doesn’t have much money, and Herald even less.”

  “Certainly not enough to satisfy a kingpin.”

  “But Dr. Chen was well known,” she suggested, “and in certain fields of research and medicine he was thought highly of. So the journal of his life’s work might sell for plenty in the right circles.”

  She could see that Rafe was not convinced.

  “We won’t jump to conclusions either way, darling. If the kingpin is Chen’s relative, I don’t think he stole the journal and passed it to Hartley. Our kingpin is in for bigger things, like opium, as Sen Fong was. That doesn’t mean the kingpin isn’t involved in this journal business in some way if he is related to Dr. Chen. Perhaps Sen Fong brought him to meet Dr. Jerome because there’s some connection back to opium. At present, there’s not enough time to chase it down in Honolulu. But I have what I needed on Hartley, and if the kingpin is Dr. Chen’s relative, I have even more. At present, the sighting of Townsend is important to me, so I intend to board that steamer on Sunday. I’ll be able to track down Townsend in San Francisco and then look into Chen’s death. Come, we’d best get back to Ainsworth’s gathering.”

  As they walked quickly back toward the plantation house Eden remained thoughtful. Despite the new shadows Dr. Chen and his journal brought to the moment, her heart did feel lighter now that she had told Rafe what she knew. He had been right after all. Sharing, trusting, and reaffirming commitment to each other proved to have bonded them more closely together. Even the news of his plans about looking into Dr. Chen’s death and Herald Hartley, though troubling, was better than keeping secrets and retaining a pretense of harmony between two who were to become one.

  Eden now understood what had been behind his resolve that she trust him with her secrets. He had realized the need for truthfulness between them and pursued it. She had wanted to keep the door shut and locked, preferring to pretend there was no need to uncover that which was unpleasant.

  It’s not over yet, she thought. Things were likely to get worse before they became better. On a long journey, however, the act of putting one foot in front of the other was the beginning of moving in the right direction.

  Chapter Twenty

  Narrowing Path

  Grandfather Ainsworth was walking the green mottled rug in the parlor when Rafe entered behind Eden. Rafe noticed that all were present except Zach, who did not seem to be about.

  Ainsworth then began his discourse about the Derrington name and the importance of its credibility due to their association with the annexation movement while Rafe kept his impat
ience from seizing control. Great-aunt Nora tightened her lips at the word annexation but went on knitting with white yarn as Ainsworth continued:

  Townsend had shamed them all, but he would not be permitted to prevail, because Ainsworth would personally see to it in the end. In the meantime it was important to be patient and not allow their concerns to lead them into anything impulsive that would draw the newspapers to the family.

  After fifteen minutes Rafe knew he could not keep silent. Before this meeting is over, he thought grimly, I’m going to be seen by the Derringtons as an inflexible avenger with no compassion. He decided to be forthright, and addressed Ainsworth.

  “Sir, I’ve already sent a wire to Parker Judson last night. I’ve asked him to hire a Pinkerton detective he recommended two months ago.”

  As expected, this caught everyone’s full attention. Ainsworth looked the most upset. Nora, on the other hand, kept her gaze on her flying knitting needles.

  “Most all of you know by now,” Rafe said, “that Celestine sent me a wire the other day from San Francisco. She’d seen Townsend watching Parker Judson’s mansion on Nob Hill. After all that’s occurred, it’s necessary that he be tracked down.”

  “Yes, you must,” Great-aunt Nora said tiredly. “He’s right, Ainsworth.” She looked evenly at her brother, whose face was strained. “There’ll be no more of this dallying. I’m supporting Rafe in this. He has as much reason to be plagued by Townsend as I do. I recovered from Townsend’s rash and violent behavior, but Matt Easton did not.”

  “She’s right,” Candace said coolly. “The sooner this wretched business with Uncle Townsend is over, the better we will all be for it. It’s all absolutely horrid. Sometimes I think I’m living in the midst of a nightmare.”

  Their support did not exactly surprise Rafe, but the strength of their determination did. Silas, however, kept silent. He was over by the lanai as though keeping himself on the fringe of the family. Rafe gave him a measuring glance. He’s struggling. One of these times, and it’s going to be soon, he’s going to need to decide whose side he’s on.

  Rafe turned toward Ainsworth.