“What on earth?” she asked, staring at the chaos scattered throughout the kitchen in amazement. It might bring her a small bit of comfort to know that, if nothing else, he was delivering on Luke’s only request. Caroline stepped forward and picked up a label. “This looks like Luke’s artwork.”

“Yes.” When he explained what they had planned, he couldn’t tell if she was going to laugh or cry. She gazed with admiration and affection at the label in her hand.

“Ah, Luke . . .” she murmured, a world of longing in those two words.

As hard as it had been for Gray, surely the kinship between twins made Luke’s dilemma even harder for Caroline. There would be no putting the genie back in the bottle this time, and he gave in to the inevitable.

“Join us,” he said, and Caroline needed no further urging.

Otis came back down, and Caroline peeled off her elaborate jacket and shrugged into one of Gray’s white shirts to protect her blouse. He made a pot of tea, and the three of them developed a system for labeling the jars.

Caroline was soon strategizing ways that Luke’s scheme could generate even bigger waves. “The scuttlebutt is that the Magruders just landed a huge contract to sell canned food to the military. If any of this slop is being sold to the army, I’m sure the War Department will want to know.”

Gray was instantly alert. “Can you get a copy of the contract?”

“Of course. The army is required to disclose large expenditures with a private company.”

Gray smiled, for Luke’s plan was gaining momentum by the hour. He outlined Luke’s strategy to contact newspapers and restaurant critics, anyone with influence in the food trade. They wanted to drum up as much news as possible.

Caroline smoothed a freshly gummed label over a jar. “I think you’re missing a big piece of the equation,” she said. “Women do most of the shopping in this country, and you need to reach out to them directly. Good Housekeeping has been writing about adulterated food for years.”

That wasn’t at all the sort of publication he had in mind, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt. “I’ll send them a jar.”

“You need to do more than that,” Caroline said. “The magazine is already working with the Department of Agriculture to spread the word about dangerous food additives. They are your natural ally.”

“I have no interest in partnering with the Department of Agriculture,” he said shortly. Zero. None. Ever. Annabelle had betrayed him for a job at that department, and the whole purpose of publicizing the Magruders’ malfeasance through the press was to avoid government interference.