Hattie drew her cape around her, shivering, even though the temperature was quite pleasant. Michael Seavey had been correct—Greeley would crush Charlotte’s spirit within days, perhaps even on her wedding night. Hattie jerked on her gloves. To her dying breath, she would protect Charlotte from him.
People passed her, casting curious glances her way as she stood lost in her thoughts. Though the possibility struck terror in her heart, she doubted Greeley could reverse the terms of her legal guardianship within any immediate time frame. Therefore her focus for the moment needed to be to discover who had attacked Frank. As of early this morning, she hadn’t heard back from Mona regarding her man’s inquiries along the waterfront, which left the task to Hattie.
She withdrew her pocket watch and noted the time. She’d been gone scarcely an hour—she’d have to hope Frank was still resting peacefully. At the next cross street, she turned toward the harbor. If Frank had been attacked because of the questions he’d been asking on her behalf, then it stood to reason Clive Johnson was involved or would know whether Michael Seavey had ordered it. And she had yet to receive the additional financial information she’d requested. Therefore, a stop at the offices of Longren Shipping was in order.
* * *
WHEN she entered the office, her business manager was conducting a conversation with the clerk. Johnson wasn’t pleased to see her, though his expression carried a slight smugness that hadn’t been there two days before.
She greeted him, closing the door firmly behind her. “I was in town and thought to stop by for those account details I requested.”
Johnson shook his head. “I ain’t got time to compile files for you, Mrs. Johnson. You don’t need to see ’em.”
“Indeed.” Coming on the heels of her argument with Chief Greeley, Hattie was in no mood to tolerate Johnson’s insolence. “I expect my orders to be taken seriously, Mr. Johnson, and to be given the highest priority.”
He rocked back on the heels of his boots, looking secretly amused. “I been otherwise engaged.”
She realized what he was insinuating, and it made her nauseous. “You ordered the attack on Frank Lewis.”
His expression turned sly. “Now, what would you be knowin’ about that, Mrs. Longren?”
“It’s rumored around town.”
He laughed. “I don’t think so.”
It was all Hattie could do not to react with violence. Her shoulders rigid, she turned to the clerk. “What’s your name, young man?”
“Timothy, ma’am.”
“Well, Timothy, as of today, you’re in charge.”
Johnson’s amusement turned to shock. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
“You’re fired, Mr. Johnson. Gather your personal belongings and clear out. Stop by my house tomorrow, and I will give you your final pay.”
“You can’t do that—I control this business.”
“Not anymore, you don’t.” Hattie placed both hands on the edge of his desk, leaning across it. “You’ve thwarted my every move, blocked every attempt I’ve made to understand and run this business the way Charles would have wanted it run.”
Johnson snorted. “That’s rich, by God. You don’t have no clue how your husband woulda wanted this business run. I was Longren’s friend—I knew more about ’im than you ever woulda, even if he’d lived.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about your trips with my husband to the Green Light, Mr. Johnson, and about the activities you engaged in. They would have been reason enough to fire you, even if you hadn’t given me additional cause.” She straightened and held out her hand. “The office keys, Mr. Johnson. You have ten minutes to clear out.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mrs. Longren.”
The mocking voice had her whirling in the direction of the back hallway. Michael Seavey emerged from the shadows to lean an elegantly clad shoulder against the wall by the clerk’s desk.
“Eavesdropping, Mr. Seavey?” she asked with as much poise as she could muster.
“I admit to it being a favorite pastime of mine.” He took a moment to light a cheroot. “Haven’t you ever heard the Chinese proverb ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,’ Hattie?”
“Now see here, Seavey—”
“Shut up.” Seavey didn’t bother to glance Johnson’s way, his tone pure steel. “I suggest you reconsider your position, Mrs. Longren. It would be best to leave Johnson in charge for now. Poor young Timothy here hasn’t the expertise to run the business, I’m afraid, and if you have to close your doors, even temporarily, your competitors will take advantage.”
“I’m not interested in continuing to employ thugs, Mr. Seavey. And it is none of your business how I conduct mine.” She stared him straight in the eye. “In attempting to advise me on this issue, you’re merely seeking to protect your own business interests, are you not?”
He looked amused. “I’ve always said you possessed a keen intelligence. However, my argument is not without merit. Longren Shipping can’t sustain a loss of clients without permanently closing its doors, I suspect, given the financial loss from the South Seas disaster.”
She hated to capitulate in front of Johnson, but she knew Seavey was at least partially correct in his assessment. She was being precipitous in her decision, and for all the wrong reasons. She was furious with Johnson—he’d as much as admitted his involvement in Frank’s attack—and she’d acted on impulse.
“Very well. I’ll withdraw my demand for now.” She turned to Timothy. “Those files, Timothy. And I expect you to visit me each morning at Longren House—you will report directly to me. Your job depends on your utter frankness with me, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Timothy handed her two file folders while casting a wary glance at Johnson. “I’ll do my best.”
Johnson folded his arms. “I won’t have no employee spyin’ on me.”
“Yes,” she replied quietly, “you will. You have no choice in the matter.”
* * *
SEAVEY followed Hattie out to the boardwalk. “You really must control that temper of yours, my dear.”
“You will address me properly, Mr. Seavey,” she snapped.
He executed one of his maddeningly mocking little bows. “As you wish, Mrs. Longren.”
Reining in her temper, she said, “Though you raised good points, I will not tolerate your interference in the future. Johnson must go. And I suggest you find some way to replace the business revenue you’ve enjoyed from your arrangement with Longren Shipping, because it won’t be continuing. I intend to unionize.”
He drew on his cheroot, then flicked it into the alley, where it sizzled in a puddle of water. “Unionization will take time—you can’t convert your crews overnight. And the other ships’ captains using Longren Shipping for their procurement won’t go along with your plans—at least, not initially.”
She crossed her arms. “I beg to differ.”
“You can’t expect people to accept a cut in profits without good reason.” His expression turned wry. “When it comes to money, I believe you’ll find few as altruistic as yourself.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps not, but I will be converting my own ships immediately, and I will also be shutting down any other questionable activities associated with them.” She cocked her head. “Rumor has it you are heavily involved in the white slave trade, Mr. Seavey. Was that the nature of your business with Charles? You control the tunnels, do you not?”
Something flickered in Seavey’s eyes, and he glanced around them. “These are not subjects to be discussed in public—they are far too dangerous.”