Gray’s eyes widened, but there was no other change in his expression. “Luke doesn’t have a diploma. Not from the Naval Academy or anywhere else. He would have been shouting it from the mountaintops if he did.”

“Are you sure about that?” He stiffened, and she rushed to continue. “What I mean is that Luke was pretty good about keeping secrets. Horace’s wife said that a lot of important military people showed up and signed off on Luke’s diploma, so he’s obviously well-connected within the department. Horace thinks Luke might have been acting on orders from higher up in the War Department. That there are more spies to be sniffed out.”

Gray’s eyes narrowed in confusion as he slowly shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Tell me where you heard this again?”

She did her best to recount everything Horace said, and how her co-worker’s voracious hunger for gossip was infamous. The corners of Gray’s mouth turned down, and his face hardened.

“I don’t buy any of it,” he said bluntly. “Rumors and gossip fly around Washington like plagues of locusts, and most of it is a pack of lies.”

“Horace also said that Dickie took a bribe from the Magruders to tell the story. A pair of expensive bay horses.”

Gray stifled a bitter laugh. “Possible.”

“Maybe you could use that to stop the next story. If the editor at The Washington Post knew Dickie took a bribe, it would cast doubt on his story.”

Gray rubbed the skin between his eyes. “Annabelle, you’re in over your head. Most of this is just standard Washington rumors and innuendo. Don’t be so naïve.”

She bristled. “I may be naïve, but I’m not stupid.” Gray looked immediately contrite, and the air went out of her in a rush. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I think we’re both tense and under a lot of pressure.”

“What pressure have you been under?” The concern in his gaze was genuine, and it got to her. It had been easier to be strong when he was snippy.

“My sister is getting married.” And my mother hates him. My heart has been broken, and it still hurts every time I see you. I feel adrift.

“I suppose weddings are always stressful,” Gray said. “Who is she marrying?”

“Walter Talbot. He owns a grocery store in a fancy part of town.”

Before she could say more, the door to the distillery banged open, and Mrs. Riley strode forward. “There’s no tea inside,” she said bluntly.

Annabelle withdrew a step, although maybe that made her seem guilty. She and Gray hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Nevertheless, Mrs. Riley seemed to have noticed their close proximity and gave her a cat’s smile.