Deep voices approached. The two sisters retreated into the shadows out of habit, one born of a lifelong curiosity of visitors to the household. “Who is it?” Justine whispered. “Perhaps Clay has come to apologize.”

Florence nearly choked. She couldn’t imagine Clay paying a visit to the Greene home, especially not after last night. “No, it couldn’t be.”

A tall man, nearly as tall as her father, appeared in the corridor, a leather satchel in his hand. Then their father was there, a huge grin on his face as both men walked toward the front entry. Who was this stranger and why did her father appear so happy?

Florence studied the guest’s face as he passed and a memory nagged in the back of her brain. She hadn’t met him, had she?

Williams helped the man with his things as her father hovered. “Crain, thank you again for the expediency. I think I’ll take a little trip downtown this morning and deliver the good news myself.”

Oh, yes. Her father had mentioned a Mr. Crain would arrive with papers to secure the city’s new school. This didn’t explain why Crain looked so familiar to her, however.

“You are the one doing the city a great service, Mr. Greene. This neighborhood desperately needs another school.” The men shook hands and Crain departed.

Their father addressed their butler before the door even closed. “Williams, have my brougham brought around. I need to pay a call to the Bronze House.”

A pang went off somewhere near Florence’s heart. Daddy is going to see Clay. Part of her wanted to sneak down to the casino and eavesdrop on their conversation. Perhaps then she’d finally learn the history between the two men.

A strange feeling, undeniable and strong, pulled her gaze back to the closed door. Her neck prickled with the sense that something was off. She’d seen that man recently. But where? Most of her time of late had been spent with Clay at—

She stopped breathing, her muscles locked, as the answer unfolded with perfect precision.

The Bronze House. Crain had been at the Bronze House to meet with Clay.

But that made no sense. Crain worked for the city. He had brought papers for her father to sign regarding the Seventy-Ninth Street school. Why would he also have met with Clay?

Every instinct was on high alert, telling her the two were connected.

No, you’re imagining things. Just a strange coincidence. Clay dealt with police and city officials all the time in his line of work.

And yet . . .

“What’s wrong?” Justine murmured. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m not certain. Something is bothering me about that man.”

“The one who just left?”

“Yes. I need to see Clayton and get to the bottom of all this.”

“Now?”

“Right now. I’ll go out through the gardens and catch a hack.”

“Be careful,” her sister whispered.