miners, or even the police, for tips about terrible accidents. They’d arrive even before the poor families had been given the news.”
At that moment, their chirpy waitress returned. Ellis and his mother fell into an awkward silence as the girl unloaded their order from her tray. “Enjoy,” she said and bounded away, a stark contrast to the mood of the table.
Ellis waited patiently as his mother sipped her coffee. Wherever was this leading?
When she set down her cup, she held it with both hands as if needing to steady herself. “One day, your father was called in for an emergency. He had to help pull out another breaker boy who’d gotten caught in the gears. It took more than an hour.” Sadness glossed her eyes, her voice turning hoarse, and it went without saying: the kid never made it home.
Ellis could still see those boys in his mind, blackened by dust, their eyes shocks of white. He recalled the tension in the truck after leaving the mine, his father fuming over Ellis wandering off. Those mines are no place to fool around, he’d scolded Ellis that day.
“In the end,” she went on, “your father carried the child out. As he laid him down, a reporter was right there taking pictures. The flashbulb snapped, and so did your father. He punched the man over and over until miners pulled him off. Days later, the reporter threatened to sue Huss Coal…”
The rest faded off, but Ellis waited to hear more.
She took a breath. “The company chose to settle. As part of the deal, the reporter demanded that your father publicly apologize. It took everything in him, but he did it.”
Ellis struggled to imagine the words I’m sorry coming out of Jim Reed’s mouth. It was far easier to figure out what had occurred next. “That’s when we moved to Allentown. And Pop started at the steel plant.”
She nodded, and Ellis sat back, the chain of his life formed by links he never knew existed.
“Sweetheart,” she said, reaching across the table to pat his hand. “I know your father hasn’t always been the easiest. But I thought if you knew more, you’d understand. Deep down, he’s truly proud of what you’ve accomplished. He just has trouble separating his past from the work you do.”
Outside the window, people were streaming in both directions. They crisscrossed on the street, strangers in passing, each on their own journeys. Just like Ellis and his father.
No doubt his mother’s theory would be nice to accept, if not for its crucial flaw: his father’s coolness began long before Ellis’s career would have posed any issue.
All the same, Ellis offered a smile. “Thanks, Ma. I’ll keep it in mind.”
• • •
After seeing his mother off at Penn Station and racing back to the paper, Ellis was relieved to find Mr. Walker still out. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said of his assistant, Mr. Tate, who bore all the smugness of a truancy officer.
“You’re back,” Dutch said, stepping up to Ellis’s desk. “Got something for ya.”
Mr. Tate was peering at Ellis, then at the clock.
“Reed, you listening?” Dutch pressed.
“Sorry.” Ellis shifted his attention, and recalled Dutch’s task. “What’ve you got?”
“I heard from an old pal who moved to the Los Angeles Times. Turns out he was familiar with this Millstone character. Said he remembered a story they ran about him a few years back.”
“What kind of story?”
Dutch’s expression, the tension in it, told Ellis the news wasn’t good.
“What? Banker fraud, corruption charges?”
“Nothing like that,” Dutch said. “It involved a kid.”
Chapter 22
At her desk, Lily reread the article for the third time, gripped by the latest report. According to the New York Times, the child had been abducted right out of his room in the family’s home, just over an hour north in Hopewell.
For Lily, the boy’s status as the son of aviation hero Charles Lindbergh was inconsequential. Save as a reminder: no amount of money, fame, or success made a parent entirely immune from suffering the unthinkable.
Every day this week, on her walk to and from the Examiner, she had anxiously anticipated paperboys shouting, Lindbergh baby returned! Home safe and sound! But the investigation was dwindling. Cold trails and blind leads were reducing the family’s meager hopes, now reliant on negotiations with the kidnappers.
One more child added to Lily’s prayers.
While her own son was never far from her worries, now neither were Ruby and Calvin. She wondered if they had known their mother was ill. Had she shielded the truth for