Love Between the Lines Read Online Free PDF

traveled in packs and either looked bored, or their eyes shone with the hungry curiosity of spectators—minus that apologetic air of most voyeurs.
    When the group walked out to the front of the station, it was easy to spot them. They were the young men lounging against the walls. One of them, a gangling fellow with a sad attempt at side-whiskers spotted Miss Drury. He nudged his companion, a plump man with a bright yellow waistcoat that strained across his stomach.
    “Trudy!” The fatter one had a grin like a cupid’s, all dimples and goodwill. “What’re you up to? More sob stories about poor babies?”
    “ Helping these gentlemen,” she said blandly.
    “ Helping them to what? You never helped anyone,” he bleated.
    “ Never helped another journalist to one of my stories, no.”
    The fat man snorted. “Journalist? Who you kidding, you’re just a stunt.”
    She went pale, but the smile was back in a second or two. “Yeah, maybe,” she drawled, “but it takes talent to pull off a good stunt. It’s not just copying from the next fellow.”
    The thin one fingered his whiskers. He narrowed his eyes and said, “I don’t believe it. You’re not just helping those two. What are you up to?” The voice was the one Oyster had identified as Thatcher.
    “ She did indeed aid us.” Gideon decided to go for pompous. “I had lost my watch and Miss Tildon helped me find my way to the police station. I fear I was the victim of a pickpocket. Your city is marvelous, but the crime here is quite astounding. You might write about that subject, Mr….ah.”
    “ Never you mind my name,” Thatcher said.
    “ No, I most certainly won’t,” Gideon said. The man had a good reputation as a writer, but Gideon had already crossed him off his list of possible hires.
    They went out into the day, which had grown considerably warmer now the sun had come out from behind the clouds and the wind had died down.
    “Where to now? Shall we visit your Mr. Hoffman the chemist?”
    She looked around the busy intersection. “All right. He’s just around the corner. And then we’ll go to lunch?”
    “ You’ll want to change your gown first,” he pointed out.
    She looked puzzled. “Yeah,” she said. “It does smell like bad coffee.” Surely that horrible, oversized green thing was part of her disguise. He longed to ask her but decided against it.
    Dr. Hoffman ’s laboratory proved to be at the back of a ramshackle wooden building. The room was jammed with shelves of glassware and long tables but after a moment of looking around the clutter, Gideon could see there was a strict order to it. The doctor was obviously delighted to see Miss Drury and took her bottle at once. Short and skinny, the doctor had a startlingly deep voice. His dark eyes twinkled and his mustache bristled as he made a small, happy huffing sound in his throat.
    Gideon supposed the thrill of helping catch criminals excited the doctor, but the man had another reason. He put the bottle on a shelf and said, “She is the one person I know who will pay on time. I’ll have results for you within days. Send your large man around.”
     
    When they left Hoffman’s, Gideon waited to see what she’d do next. “The streetcar isn’t far off,” she began.
    “ We’ll take a carriage,” Gideon announced. “No, don’t worry. I’ll pay.”
    With a shrill whistle, Oyster hailed a cab. Brinker and Oyster sat with their backs to the horses, staring out the window. Miss Drury leaned forward and in the voice of a hostess asked, “Mr. Brinker, I hope you are enjoying your stay in New York and weren’t too upset by this morning’s events.”
    Brinker reassured her he enjoyed the city. She began a series of tentative questions. To her query about his reason for visiting New York, Brinker answered, “I’d rather not say, miss,” and didn’t so much as glance at Gideon. Good man—he was getting the hang of prevarication.
    Miss Drury hurriedly moved on to the topic of family