“At last,” Houston said, closing the double doors behind her. “Now, shall we get down to business?”
Edan sat inside the closet on an uncomfortable chair, a full bottle of whisky in his hand. Damn Kane! he thought again and wondered if he could get away with murder. Any judge would surely let him off for killing a man who’d forced him to spend an entire evening watching a bunch of women drink tea.
Absently, he drank the whiskey and watched the women through the silk in the door panel. Miss Emily, a pretty, fragile, elderly lady, was banging her fist on the table.
“The third annual meeting of The Sisterhood will now come to order.”
Edan held the bottle to his lips but didn’t drink.
Miss Emily continued. “First, we’ll hear a report from Houston on the coal camps.”
Edan didn’t move a muscle as Houston stood and delivered a detailed report on the injustices inside the coal camps. He’d followed her a few days before and knew of her innocent little forays to deliver fresh vegetables into the camps, but now Houston was talking of strikes and of unions. Edan’d seen men killed for less than what she was saying.
Nina Westfield began to talk of starting a magazine that the women would secretly deliver to the coal miners’ wives.
Edan set the whiskey bottle on the floor and leaned forward.
There was mention of Jacob Fenton—fear of him and what he’d do if he found out about the women delivering information to the coal miners.
“I can talk to Jean Taggert,” Houston said. “For some reason, Fenton seems afraid of all the Taggerts. They were given permission to attend the wedding.”
“And Jean visits stores in Chandler,” Miss Emily said. “I know your Kane,” she said to Houston, “used to work for the Fentons, but something else is going on. I thought perhaps you might know.”
“Nothing,” Houston said. “Kane explodes at the mention of Fenton’s name, and I don’t think Marc knows anything.”
“He wouldn’t,” said Leora Vaughn. “Marc only spends money; he’s uninterested in where it comes from”
“I’ll talk to Jean,” Houston repeated. “Someone is stirring up a great deal of trouble. I don’t want to see anyone hurt.”
“Maybe I can get into the coal camps, too,” Blair added. “I’ll find out what I can.”
“What other business is there?” Miss Emily asked.
Edan leaned back in his chair. “The Sisterhood,” he breathed. These women, under the guise of lace dresses and gentle manners, were talking about wars.
The rest of the meeting was involved with various charities, of helping orphans and sick people—all the things ladies should do.
When the meeting was over, Edan picked up the whiskey and felt that at last he could breathe again.
“Refreshments?” Meredith Lechner asked, laughter in her voice, as she opened a large, yellow-wrapped box and Pulled out a bottle of homemade wine. “Mother sent these in memory of a few meetings when she was a girl. Daddy will be told our wine cellar was robbed.”
Edan didn’t think he could have been further shocked, but his mouth fell open when each woman was handed a full bottle of wine and a long-stemmed glass from a wall cabinet.
“To the wedding night!” said Miss Emily, glass aloft. “To wedding nights everywhere, whether they’re preceded by marriages or not.”
With laughter, the women downed full glasses of wine.
“Mine first!” said Nina Westfield. “Mother and I had an awful time finding these in Denver. And then Lee almost looked in the box this afternoon.”
Houston opened a blue box and withdrew a transparent black garment dripping with four-inch-wide black lace.
Edan saw that it was ladies’ underwear, but not the kind for ladies.
In disbelief, he watched the women drink their bottles of wine and open presents amid shouts of laughter and boisterous comments. There were two pairs of high-heeled red shoes, more transparent underwear, and some pictures the women passed from one to another and nearly collapsed with laughter over. Chairs were discarded and the women began to dance about the room.
Miss Emily sat down at the piano that Edan hadn’t noticed and started banging away.
Edan’s chin hit his chest as he watched the women dance with skirts raised, legs kicking.