Meredith McCardle - The Eighth Guardian

“That’s going to cost you,” she says. “I don’t know who you are or what you want, but unless you want the coppers hunting you down, I suggest you pay up.”

“I don’t have any money,” I say. It’s partly the truth. I don’t have any 1890s money.

Annie clicks her tongue and takes a step back, eyeing me from head to toe. And then she zeroes in on my wrist. On my bracelet.

“No,” I say. No. She can’t have it. It’s the only thing I have left connecting me to Abe, to my past.

“My brother’s a cop,” she says. Brother sounds like bruddah. “In Boston. He’ll hunt you down.”

He won’t, actually. I’ll be long gone by the time he gets word. But that doesn’t change the fact that Eta is right down the hallway and I’m wasting time.

My hands are tied. I slip the bracelet off my wrist and squeeze it tight in my palm before I hand it over. Annie smirks, and I want to punch her. But I don’t. I take off down the hallway.

Annie follows me. I hear the triumphant pat pat pat of her buckled shoes on the wooden floor behind me.

There’s a rolling cart with a sterling pot, several teacups, and a platter of pastries and rolls outside a door. Male voices echo into the hall.

Jackpot.

I pull the car closer and place my hand on the doorknob, but Annie steps in front of me and grabs the cart handle. My charm bracelet slides down her wrist, and I tense my shoulders.

“I’m supposed to service the meeting,” Annie says.

“Yeah, well, now you’re not. So let go of the handle or I’ll break your wrist.” I’d like to say it’s an idle threat, but I’m not so sure.

“My bruddah —”

“Is a cop. Yeah, I know. Screw your brother.” I’m sure she’s probably never heard my modern-day insult before, but her narrowed eyes tell me she’s caught the gist. “Now step aside .”

She stares at me for a few seconds before raising her wrist and flicking it back and forth to make my bracelet jingle. Then she gives me a smirk and backs up to let me pass.

I take a breath. Focus on what’s important, I remind myself. I swing open the door and take hold of the cart. “I suggest you make yourself scarce,” I hiss to Annie.

I duck my head as I roll in the cart. I don’t think Eta will know who I am, but you never know. Alpha sure knew everything about me from childhood. Maybe Eta will, too. I keep my head down and peer up out of the tops of my eyes. Bauer sits at the head of the table, and a number of men line each side. Eta sits in the middle, on the right side, in front of the window. I can feel Bauer glare at me as I push the cart past.

“I suppose my main question,” Bauer says, “is why you’re interested in investing in the company now. Why not seven years ago when we first started?”

I settle into the corner of the room and turn my back to everyone as I pour tea into the cups. That’s a really good question. I want to hear Eta’s answer.

Eta smiles politely. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression I was to meet with the president of the company.”

Bauer’s lips press together. “Mr. Coffin is unavailable today. I assure you I am well prepared to hear your proposal. Now why are you just offering it today?”

Eta pauses for several seconds, then her shoulders relax and she leans forward and rests her forearms on the table. “My company has not been around for seven years,” she says. “We only started last year, making investments in those companies we feel have real potential but could use a greater financial backing. Thomson-Houston Electric is such a company.”

She’s lying. But why? Thomson-Houston Electric doesn’t even stay Thomson-Houston Electric. At one point it becomes General Electric, and . . . oh. There it is. It all comes back to money, doesn’t it? Invest now and reap a huge reward when GE really starts booming.

I set down the teapot and steady myself. Corruption wafts through the air and threatens to choke me. I feel dirty right now, and no amount of scrubbing will wash away the truth.

Someone clears a throat. “Tea?” Bauer asks his guests in a tone that makes it clear I need to serve it already.

My head snaps up, but I don’t turn to look at him. I nod with my back to him and lift two teacups. My hands are shaking as I carry the saucers and set them on the table before Bauer and the man to his right.

Bauer drums his fingers on the table and cocks an eyebrow. “And what sort of investment are you proposing?”

I grab two more cups and set them on the table, then start back for the last two.

Eta clears her throat and folds her hands on the table. She’s trying to act confident, but from here I can see her foot tapping rapidly under the table. “It’s all outlined in our proposal,” she says. “We provide you with one hundred thousand dollars in capital, and in return we get a minority-ownership interest.”

Which she can then sell for a ton of money someday in the future, no doubt.

I set a teacup in front of Eta, and she doesn’t even glance in my direction. And so I stand over her and stare. Some crack operative she is. Disgust creeps up in my throat like bile. She took an oath. To her country. Did it mean nothing?

Did it mean nothing to my dad?

I want to kick over the cart and run from this room, but so far I haven’t learned anything that will help me identify CE. And I’ll be damned if I gave away my bracelet for nothing.

Bauer clears his throat again. “Does anyone take their tea with milk and sugar?” He’s staring right at me with a pointed look.

I snap out of it and scoot around the edge of my cart to get back to my tray.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Bauer says to his guests. “She’s new. It’s as if she’s never served tea a day in her life.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Eta’s head snap up and over to me. I turn my back to her and pretend to busy myself with the milk and sugar. I can feel Eta’s eyes boring holes into my back. Does she suspect anything?

“Well,” Bauer continues, “I am a man in a rather enviable position. My initial investors were good to the company, so good that I don’t have to say yes to your proposal by any stretch of the imagination. So tell me”—I hear him flip over a stack of papers—“what other investments has Eagle Industries made recently? Why should I trust you?”

Eagle Industries. Who is running Eagle Industries? Come on, Eta, tell me.

“Well—” Eta begins.

“Milk and sugar,” Bauer says.

I grab the creamer and the sugar dish and set it on the table in front of Bauer, then I return for the plate of pastries. I use the silver tongs to place one on the edge of everyone’s saucer.

Eta clears her throat. “I am uncomfortable naming the other business deals in which we’ve recently taken part. You would grant my company some level of privacy, would you not?”

Bauer waves his hand in the air. “And I’ve seen nothing in your proposal that details exactly who makes up . . . what was it?” He flips the paper again. “Eagle Industries?”

I hold my breath.

“Nor will I tell you,” Eta says, sending my hopes crashing down to the ground. “For it is unimportant. What is important here today is that I have a great sum of money that I wish to invest in your company. If you tell me no, as is perfectly within your right, then I can certainly take my money elsewhere. Perhaps to Edison.”

Bauer juts his chin in the air and stands. He extends his hand across the table to Eta, who rises to take it. “I will take your proposal under advisement and get back to you within the week.”

Eta nods. “Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Likewise.”