Summer of the Midnight Sun (36 page)

“I’ve been praying for you for some time now,” Jacob began, “and every time I pray for you, one word keeps coming to mind.”

“And what would that be?”

He met her gaze and didn’t even blink. “Guilt.”

She swallowed hard and tried not to react. “Guilt? You must be crazy.”

“Am I?”

She wanted only to get up and pace the room, but she knew this would be a dead giveaway to how close to the truth he’d struck. “If you’re so confident that I’m consumed with guilt—and if God is the one giving you the information, then by all means share what you know.”

Jacob drew a deep breath. “I believe you feel consumed with guilt because of the death of your parents and husband. I think you blame yourself.”

She began to tremble. “Why . . . why . . . would I blame myself?” She didn’t want to hear his answer, but at the same time she had to.

“Because maybe you were the intended victim? Because you should have been with them—died with them . . . died instead of them.”

Helaina felt as though she couldn’t breathe. She’d never told anyone how she felt about those things. About the truth of how the original kidnapping plot had been intended for her and her alone. She suddenly felt dizzy—her vision began to blur.

“Helaina. Helaina.”

She could hear him calling her name, but she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t see him.

“Helaina, wake up.”

She finally struggled against the grip of darkness and opened her eyes. Jacob stood over her chair, gently patting her face. “I . . . what . . .” She drew a deep breath. Jacob’s words came rushing back to her. There was no pretense of defense left in her. She looked into his eyes, feeling as though he could see every secret in her heart. Surely the only way he could have known these things was because God had allowed him to know them. But why?

“I’m all right,” she told him. She straightened and stared down at her shaking hands. “Anyone could have guessed about the guilt,” she said in a voice barely audible.

“I suppose so,” Jacob admitted, retaking his seat.

“But,” she continued, “only a couple of people knew that the original plot was intended for me.” She looked up against her will. “It should have been me.”

“But it wasn’t, and you find that impossible to live with. Don’t you?”

She nodded very slowly. “I went to Europe on a whim. Robert couldn’t get away, but I wanted very much to go shopping and to see friends. I talked my mother into taking over my responsibilities to host a charity event for the children’s orphanage. It should have been me.”

“But God had other plans, Helaina,” Jacob said matter-offactly.

“I know, and I hated Him for it. How could He be so cruel as to take those I loved and leave me behind? How could He allow those men to kill them? I don’t understand that at all.” She felt the tears begin to fall. “Robert was the love of my life. My mother was my best friend. And my father . . . well . . . he represented security to me well before I even knew Robert existed. They were there one day and then they were gone, and all because some amateur group of thugs decided they could best make a living by kidnapping me.”

“What happened to make them kill your family?”

She could hear the confession of the youngest member of the group. “They got scared when there turned out to be three people in the carriage instead of one. Robert charged the men, and they fired their guns without regard. They were terrified, for they had no plan for what to do past stealing me away and demanding money.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “I thought I would die when I heard the news.”

“I think I know how that feels. When I got word about my father’s death, it was unbearable.”

“I felt so consumed with guilt. Because Stanley was working with the Pinkertons, I was given access to everything related to the file. I even saw photographs that I never should have seen. Pictures that never leave my memory.”

“So you got involved with the law in order to ease that guilt?”

She looked at him and nodded. There was both a relief and a sensation of awe that he knew her so well. Could this really be because God had told him? “Every time I helped put a criminal behind bars, I felt a little bit of guilt slip away. I figured if I did enough—if I got enough people—then the hurt would stop and the emptiness would disappear. But it never has.”

“And it never will,” Jacob said. “Not that way. Only God can fill that empty place. Only God knows how much you hurt—how guilty you feel. Their death wasn’t your fault, but you’re carrying it as though it were, as though if you carry it long enough you might somehow bring them back to life.”

She flew out of the chair and headed straight at him. She wanted to slap him—to silence him. “You don’t understand. You can’t understand. I have to do something. I have to right the wrong.”

He jumped back in defense, then reached out and took hold of her wrists. Helaina crumpled to her knees in front of him. “You can’t make anything right, Helaina. You can’t change what has happened.”

“Then why go on?” She looked up at him as he edged forward.

“Why live—why try?”

“It wasn’t your time to go, Helaina. God has another purpose—another plan for you. I don’t know why your loved ones had to die, but I know that the injustice grieved God’s heart just as much as it grieved yours.”

“Why didn’t He stop it? Why, Jacob? If He cares so much, why does He allow all this evil in the world? All this pain?”

“I don’t have answers for that. We live in a fallen world and men will make bad choices—they will sin without regard to God or man. Why it has to be that way, I really don’t understand either. But I do know that God has not left us as orphans. He promises to be with us always.”

Helaina composed herself. She pulled away from Jacob and got to her feet. “I’ve heard those answers before. But they make no sense. God is supposed to be all-powerful and all-knowing. It makes no sense that He allows these things to happen to good people.” She smoothed her skirt and wiped her face. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“I will,” Jacob said as she moved to the door. “But I won’t stop praying for you. God won’t let me.”

The words burrowed into her heart. She didn’t want to admit that Jacob’s concern touched her. “Do what you will,” she murmured. “I don’t believe it will help, but you do what you like.”

————

Later that day the courier arrived from Washington, D.C. To Helaina’s surprise, he turned out to be her very annoyed, very angry brother.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. You know better. I’ve brought my men with me. They’re waiting to take Jayce Kincaid into custody.”

Helaina stood her ground. “No, Stanley. Not until we compare those prints.”

“Helaina.”

“No. I know without a doubt that this man is innocent. I want the prints as proof. I have his fingerprints all ready for the comparison. You cannot send an innocent man to prison or to be hanged. You would never forgive yourself.”

Stanley calmed a bit at this. “Very well. I can’t believe you’re doing this, but since I have no choice, let’s get the job done.” He took a folder from his case. “Here they are.”

Helaina nodded. “Come with me into the library.”

“Where’s Kincaid?”

She smiled over her shoulder. “In the library.”

She saw her brother’s reaction when he came into the room and stood face-to-face with Jayce Kincaid. For a moment his scowl deepened and his hands balled into fists.

“Kincaid,” he muttered.

“I don’t have the pleasure of knowing you, sir.”

Stanley stiffened. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. He seemed to be searching Jayce’s face—almost as if looking for proof. Helaina saw Stanley’s expression change. “You aren’t the right man. You look like him—but you’re not him.” There was a sense of awe in his tone.

Helaina looked at her brother curiously. “Why are you saying that now?”

“I cut the man who threw me from the train. I cut him deep across the left eye. It bled so badly that his blood covered me as well. It would have left a considerable scar.” He shook his head. “You look just like him.”

Helaina spread the prints atop the table and drew out a magnifying glass that Timothy provided. She looked at the set that she’d made. The ridges and lines were nearly committed to memory. Then taking the glass to the pages her brother had provided, she could finally prove the truth she’d known since leaving Alaska.

“They don’t match,” she whispered and looked up to meet Jayce’s face. “Jayce Kincaid is an innocent man.”

Chapter Thirty

J
ayce felt a profound sense of relief with those six words.

Though he’d known the prints wouldn’t match, to have legitimate proof of his innocence was almost overwhelming.

“But if it’s not you . . . then who is it?” Stanley asked.

“My brother Chase Kincaid is probably responsible,” Jayce replied. “He is my identical twin.”

“Which is what I’ve been telling you since I arrived in Seattle,” Helaina declared.

“Yes, yes. I remember well your list of discrepancies, though I’d disregarded them until now. Has Chase a record?” Stanley asked.

“He has served time, but overall, he’s done a remarkable job of not getting caught. He has a long list of friends who are happy to help him in his endeavors because Chase has always been generous with money,” Jayce answered.

“What is his goal, do you think?” Helaina asked. “For example, why steal from the British Museum?”

Jayce shrugged. “My guess is that he needed money first and foremost. Second, I would imagine that, rather than simply steal from someone’s home or from individuals, my brother saw real excitement in taking things from the prestigious British Museum. He was always in pursuit of a good thrill. And of course, the chance to taint my name would add to the benefits.”

Stanley seemed to consider this for a moment. “So where is he now? Do you have any idea?”

“Not really,” Jayce admitted. “However, we might know someone who can give us some information. Captain Latimore is here in town. He is the man we spoke of earlier, who captained the ship Chase was on earlier this summer. The expedition met with problems and ended their trip early. Latimore can at least tell us where he parted company with Chase.”

Stanley nodded. “Very well. How do we reach this Captain Latimore?”

“I’ve already sent for him,” Helaina said with a smile. “We figured that he might prove helpful.”

Stanley squared his shoulders and eyed Jayce. He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe his eyes. “I must say, the resemblance is uncanny. Had I not been assured that my cut left its mark and had the fingerprints not proved your identity, I would have seen you hanged.”

“Captain Latimore has arrived,” the butler announced.

The group turned to await the captain. Jayce both dreaded and looked forward to what the man might have to say; his own gut ached as he struggled over his dilemma with Chase. If he refused to turn Chase over to the law, he was allowing a vicious criminal to go free. But if he saw to Chase’s capture, he was turning over his own flesh and blood to die.

“Captain Latimore,” Helaina said in greeting. “Thank you for coming.”

“You said it was urgent,” the man replied. He looked to the group and nodded. “I came as soon as I could.”

Jayce stepped forward. “We need some information regarding my brother Chase and his affairs while with you onboard
Homestead
.”

The captain nodded. “I’ll give you whatever I can.”

Leah reached out for Jayce’s hand, and he felt strengthened by her support. She had never once doubted him. Neither had Jacob. This thought gave him courage to face what he knew must be done.

“Captain, my name is Stanley Curtis. I’m a Pinkerton agent. I live in Washington, D.C., and have been on the trail of a dangerous criminal for some time. We had thought the man to be Jayce Kincaid but have since learned that it is probably his twin brother, Chase. I understand you had opportunity to employ Chase this summer.”

The captain rubbed his beard for a moment. “I did employ the man—thought he was Jayce. We had met a couple of times prior, and the man seemed exactly as I remembered Jayce. I had no reason to doubt him when he agreed that he was Jayce Kincaid.”

“Did the man in question have a scar over his left eye?” Stanley asked.

The captain seemed excited at this question. “Yes. Yes, he did. Although I hadn’t really thought about it until now. It was positioned just above the eyebrow on the left side. The scar was not that old; it hadn’t faded as a scar will over time.”

“Yes,” Stanley said, looking to Jayce. “It must be him.”

“So what do we do now?” Jayce asked in return.

“Sir, when did you last see Chase Kincaid?” Stanley questioned.

The captain considered this question for a moment. “When the expedition broke company, we returned the natives to Kotzebue, but Chase asked to be taken to Nome. The rest of the crew returned to the States or to Vancouver.”

“You left Chase in Nome?”

Latimore nodded. “Yes. I believe that would have been in early August. He told me he planned to spend the winter there.”

“So he may still be there,” Jayce said. He exchanged a brief glance with Leah before letting go of her hand and getting to his feet. “We’ll have to return to Nome as soon as possible.”

“Why would Chase Kincaid remain in Nome?” Stanley didn’t sound at all like he believed this possibility.

“He must think it best to lay low and hide out for a time. He might have even gotten wind of what was happening with your search and how you were after me,” Jayce said.

“That’s impossible,” Helaina replied. “I was very careful with my investigation.”

“True enough, but I wouldn’t trust that he counts himself safe for the time.”

“Does he know much about Alaska—about survival up there?” Stanley asked.

“I wouldn’t have thought so,” Jayce began, “but then, I wouldn’t have expected him to handle the dog teams like a professional. Captain Latimore said he was quite proficient with the teams.”

“Well, he was clumsy at first, but he quickly recovered and then took on real proficiency. We were well into the northern reaches of the Arctic where the ice never thaws. Some of the team had discussed staying throughout the winter. We had plans to locate one of the Canadian islands for this purpose when we started having so much trouble. But Mr. Kincaid was perfectly capable with the dogs and even volunteered to be one of those who stayed behind.”