“Ah. He’s not a friend of us Colored people. Just so you know.”
“Name a Democrat who is, or at this point, name a Republican. What can you tell us about him?”
The old man said grimly, “One of the biggest supporters of what folks down here call the Mississippi Plan—organized terror and violence to keep us from voting, holding office, and having schools.”
“Why did we fight the war?” Brax asked, knowing there was no answer.
“I agree. Name’s Mason Golightly. Come on and get in.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Welch came hurrying over. “What are you doing?”
“Getting a ride to the Stipes’ house. Have you hired a hack yet?”
“No one will take Coloreds.”
Raven said, “Coloreds will. You’re welcome to ride with us, or ride separately and meet us there.”
She looked from Raven and Steele to Mr. Golightly. “Do you know where they live?”
“Yes, ma’am. Like the little lady said: You can ride with us if you’ve a mind to.”
She was plainly frustrated. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”
She crawled into the backseat while they squeezed onto the bench with Mr. Golightly. Once everyone was settled, the big chestnut mare led the hack away.
Raven noted that the homes in Charleston lacked the grillwork and boxlike structure commonly seen in New Orleans, and that instead of the residences facing forward, they were set sideways on their lots to take advantage of the southern breeze off the waters of Charleston Harbor, an inlet of the Atlantic Ocean. The larger homes of the wealthy hid their slave quarters behind vegetation, rendering them virtually invisible from the street. Raven often wondered why but had no answer. One of the ways the city did resemble her hometown wasthe overwhelming presence of the race. During the ride to the Stipes’ she saw dark faces everywhere: walking, driving wagons, working outside shops, and at construction sites. One of her relatives said that before freedom, members of the race outnumbered the Whites in both the city and the state nearly three to one, and from what she was viewing, the percentage hadn’t changed much, if at all.
The Stipes lived in a large white house made of wood and brick, and it, too, sat sideways like the homes around it. Mr. Golightly stopped in front and they got out. Shrubs and trees accented the structure both front and back. After Welch paid the fare, Mr. Golightly drove away and the three of them walked to the door.
A very thin middle-aged White woman wearing an overabundance of face paint, a dated gown too large for her frame, and an awful light brown wig answered the door pull and viewed them with wariness. “May I help you?”
Welch introduced herself as Annabelle Clarkston, the sister of Adelaide Clarkston, and Raven and Braxton as the Millers.
“Oh, the couple Adelaide recommended I hire.”
“Yes,” Welch said, smiling.
“Please, come inside. I’m Helen Stipe.”
They entered and Raven discreetly looked around. The interior was well furnished, and to her relief the dark wood floors, white walls,and upholstered furniture all appeared to be exceptionally clean. That meant she’d hopefully spend less time scrubbing and mopping, and more time searching for the purloined document.
Mrs. Stipe said, “I wasn’t aware that you’d be accompanying the Millers.”
“My sister wanted me to see to a few details tied to the selling of her home, so I decided to come along and to make sure they arrived safely. I’m glad you took her up on the recommendation. You couldn’t ask for better employees.”
Mrs. Stipe eyed them. “Good to know. Dahlia and Sylvester, my former help, will be hard to replace.” She moved her attention back to Welch. “So, you’ll be joining her in England?”
“Eventually.”
“Well, let’s hope you’ll like it there. Frankly, your sister is one of the nosiest people I’ve ever met. When she wasn’t asking questions about everything and everybody, she was spreading gossip.”
Welch startled.
Raven wanted to guffaw, but instead said, “You have a nice place, Mrs. Stipe.” She made a point of not speaking in her natural New Orleans–toned voice.
“Thank you. I purchased this house after the war. Our old place outside the city was much larger. It was commandeered by the Yankee invaders and turned into a field hospital.”