In The Beginning by Gail Daley (top 100 books of all time checklist .TXT) 📕

know well enough what must be done," he said. "I don’t do that kind of work anymore. The new identities—that was nothing, but this—"

She nodded. "I would not ask for myself, but this is for my granddaughter. I know you retired, but I thought you might still have contacts in that world."

He shook his head. "Not for you. If it is not a killing matter, I might know a couple of rivermen who could use a deckhand. They travel far upriver. They owe me enough of a favor to keep him on their boat for a few months. It’s all I can promise."

Giselle stood up. "You and Amy are true friends. It is more than enough."

"I will tell the men to be ready tonight. You are sure he will come to your suite?"

"He’ll come," Iris stated. "He wants something from me. I think he’ll be there."

During the conversation with Wong, Iris had listened in silence. For a girl who preferred the pages of a romance to reality, it had shocked her to realize Wong was expecting her grandmother to ask to have Franks killed. She had been conscious of relief to learn Giselle had nothing so dastardly in mind as murder, but she was grappling with the idea that a kidnapping had been planned right in front of her.

On the way back to the hotel, she asked. "What are you planning?"

Giselle gave her a bland look. "Why to have tea with one of your suitors' child. You must look especially charming tonight. And do not give in to the desire to smack his face until after he has had his tea."

"The blue dress darling," Giselle told Iris when they were back in their suite. "And put a touch of color on your lips and cheeks."

As Iris went to do as instructed, she tried frantically to see a way out of what was going to happen, but she couldn't. Jeanne's happiness depended on getting rid of Franks at least for a time, she realized. Remembering wiping her little sisters' tears and comforting her after Momma Clara had died, a fierce determination to protect her baby sister rose in Iris. She could hear her grandmother rummaging through her jewel box, selecting the ring she wanted. Iris remembered watching Giselle open that ring once before. Gran had called it a Medici ring. The raised stone lifted, revealing a hollow that could conceal drugs or poison. This time Giselle added a small amount of white powder to the hollow base.

"What did you put in it?" Iris asked warily. Knowing how ruthless Gran could be in protecting her granddaughters, Iris found herself worrying that despite what she had said to Joe Wong, Gran intended to poison Franks.

"It is a form of poppy. It can be distilled and dried into a strong sedative. The plant and the distilling pattern were shown to me many years ago by Old Cinders. Now remember, your part is to distract him so that he doesn’t see me add this to his tea. It won’t hurt to flirt with him a little."

Gulping, Iris nodded and grimly tugged the bodice of the blue dress a little lower.

When Franks knocked, Lisette opened the door to him, taking his hat and coat.

"Ah, Mr. Franks, how kind of you to join us," Giselle said with a smile. "Iris has told me so much about you. Please, sit down. I ordered tea to be brought up when you arrived, and it should be here shortly."

There was a second knock, and Lisette admitted a waiter who rolled a cart into the room and made a small business of setting a tray with a small pot, cups and a plate with a variety of finger sandwiches on a low table in front of Giselle, before he bowed himself out.

While her grandmother busied herself pouring tea, Iris smiled at Franks and asked. "It was such a surprise to see you on the boat. What brings you to Junction City, Mr. Franks?"

He eyed her warily, but responded, "Why the pleasure of your company, Miss Iris."

"Oh, come sir," she said breathlessly, fluttering her eyelashes at him, "surely you didn’t come all this way just to see me. Why you could have done that back home in River Crossing."

Lisette made a strangled sound and ducked into Giselle’s bedroom before she laughed aloud. Iris was imitating the silly woman who taught the River Crossing school with devastating accuracy.

"One lump or two, Mr. Franks?" inquired Giselle holding a lump of sweetening in tongs over his cup.

"Ah, just one," he said, barely glancing at her.

Obliging him, Giselle dropped a single lump into the cup and stirred it with a small spoon. She handed the cup and saucer to Iris who leaned forward to hand the cup to Franks, ensuring he got a good look down her décolletage as she did so, before picking up her own cup and sipping it.

"You must try these," Iris said, holding out a small plate with red cookies. "If I had these at home, I declare I’d be as fat as one of my sister’s geese."

"Thank you," Franks said, wondering what was going on. Perhaps Iris had simply decided to try to charm him out of reporting the marriage to Old Ira Johnson. It wouldn’t work, but if it made her do what he wanted he was willing to let her think she could convince him not to sell the information to Johnson. Women were there to look at or to use not to make plans or change his course of action.

It wasn’t until he had finished his tea that he felt woozy. He threw the cup down and tried to stand, falling back into the chair when his legs gave out. "Bitch!" he hissed. "You’re going to pay for this."

"Good night Mr. Franks," Iris said. "I won’t wish you sweet dreams. In fact, I hope you have nightmares."

Franks eyes closed, and he slid down the chair seat, landing on his knees on the braided rug.

Lisette opened the door to