Ten minutes passed without a hitch, and Leopold began his search. He started out on the open deck areas, beginning at the uppermost portion of the riverboat, working his way downwards. He checked all of the open spaces, under the staircases, behind shipping crates, and the strange little nooks and crannies that no one would think of hiding something, unless there was something of value worth hiding. There was no sign of her in any of them; not a hair, nor even a whiff of her perfume lingered, and so he moved on before too long. Upon returning to the ballroom, he walked the perimeter, carefully scanning each group of passengers. When he failed to find her among any of them, he began sneaking glances under unoccupied tables. After several fruitless attempts at this, he noticed a few small cliques giving him strange looks. He straightened himself out, cleared his throat, and pretended to adjust his bowtie before moving on, trying to act as though he was searching for a lost object instead of a person.
He went to the bar, making a quick mental note of the smug look the bartender from earlier decided to give him. The young man most likely assumed he'd been pushed aside in favor of someone more worthy of Sarah's attention. Leopold rolled his eyes at this thought, and carried on – although a small part of him couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. Upon checking his watch, thirty minutes had already passed since he'd begun his search. His heart jumped, and he wondered if he'd actually be able to find her in time to win their bet. Pausing momentarily, he questioned whether or not he really had a chance at locating her. She seemed far too lithe to have any difficulties in concealing herself. If her performance on the dance floor was to be considered, he knew deep down that he'd made a mistake in choosing her to be the one to hide. Even still, he carried on, not to be deterred. He nearly jogged back out to the deck, and upon turning a corner, imagined he saw her skirt. He followed the flow of the fabric, running up the stairs and turning another corner, only to wind up disappointed.
"Hey, sugar," the girl crooned, puffing on a cigarette. "Need a little company?" She was pretty, sure – auburn hair, light brown eyes, and enough makeup to keep her looking like a painting instead of a person – but Leopold took an unconscious step back. Her smile turned tight, and she rocked on her heels. "No? Suit yourself. But come find me again if you're feeling lonely, okay?"
"No, thank you." He didn't wait for her response. Instead, he spun around on his heel, and worked his way into the repetitive corridors within the ship. Not to his surprise, most of the private rooms were locked. He moved slowly, listening to any and all commotion behind the doors. He overheard many heated arguments, boring gossip, petty criminals scheming too big for their abilities, and several counts of Lovers having fun. Each time he caught a snippet of some couple's lovemaking, he shivered, imagining Sarah, and how he hoped – perhaps foolishly – that she would actually be interested in him, instead of just teasing. However, every time he considered this, his inner critic reminded him of how he believed she would react upon discovering the real nature of his work. He shoved those thoughts away as best he could, but they continued to rear their ugly heads, dampening his spirits. Sighing to himself, he pushed forward; as much as his negative self-talk wanted him to give up, something inside him refused to yield. Even if he would inevitably be told never to speak to her again, he couldn't simply walk away from her without trying.
Every now and then, he overheard a conversation which he believed might bring some good fortune to the gang. He stopped to listen in, and see what people had to say. Much of it ended up being useless information, or blatant lies, and he cursed himself for wasting his Time on eavesdropping. Carelessly rounding a corner, he nearly collided with Arthur, who looked as though he may have fallen asleep in the sun for a while.
"Mister Strauss," Arthur greeted him, nodding politely. "Any Luck in finding people worth robbing?"
"N-no…not yet." Leopold checked his watch. His heart skipped a beat when he realized he only had fifteen minutes left to find Sarah, and he'd still not seen nor heard even a tiny trace of her. He jumped slightly when Arthur clapped him on the shoulder.
"Don't look so down, partner. I'm sure you'll come up with somethin' soon." He turned his head, coughing into his shoulder. If Leopold wasn't mistaken, he could have sworn he'd seen a few droplets of blood hit the fabric of his coat. "As for me, I'm gonna go get a drink with Javier before he has to get into disguise. Don't want him to feel too uncomfortable tonight. Heh…don't want him drunk yet, neither."
"I…couldn't agree more, Arthur." The men parted ways, and Leopold was left standing alone in the corridor. He checked his watch again, as if it made any difference. Mind racing, he found himself torn between his duties to the gang, and his desire to spend the evening with his lovely new acquaintance. It didn't take long to decide. He caved in fairly quickly, his loyalty to his family winning him over. He heaved a long, heavy sigh, hung his head slightly, and kept up on his eavesdropping business. As he shuffled along the seemingly endless tract of corridors, he slowed his pace, hugging the walls tighter, and stopping longer outside each door.
"I'm tellin' ya, we gotta hit the Saint Denis bank!" Leopold stopped abruptly, peering through a keyhole, then putting his ear up to it. There were at least three people in the room, and none of them thought to keep their voices hushed. "My boy Marty's a guard. He can get us in, easy."
"Well, what about getting out?" Another voice chimed in, gruff and impatient. "Do we really wanna be trapped in there, no escape route, with the law surrounding us on all sides?"
"Of course not, dumbass!" The first person snapped back, a hint of resentment in his voice. "Marty's got an out. The outer Western wall is weak. All we'd need is a little dynamite, a good distraction, and some Luck."
"Luck for what?" The third and final voice huffed, then snickered. "To not blow ourselves to bits after we claim our retirement funds?"
"Exactly! You ain't gotta be an ass about it."
"Not the worst plan I've ever heard," Leopold whispered to himself, shrugging and pulling away from the door. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, filing the information away as being "potentially good." He walked on ahead, considering how such a robbery might play out, and had to stifle a chuckle as he imagined Bill trying to set the dynamite correctly. Shaking off the thought, he stopped to lean against a wall, and snapped his eyes shut. In his Mind's Eye, he saw everything: the bank employees and customers on the floor, keeping their heads down; Bill fixing the dynamite into place; Arthur cracking the safes; Lenny, Charles, and Javier standing guard; Dutch directing everyone inside the bank; John and Uncle waiting nearby with wagons, and Hosea creating a big enough distraction far enough away to keep most of the lawmen busy.
He slowed down the speed of the scene, making note of every individual detail, from what everyone was wearing, to the poor, askew placement of a button on a jacket, even down to the cocked hammer of a drawn pistol. Everyone and everything had a place; all it would take is precise timing and coordination on everyone's part. He tried to imagine the reaction time of the law once the dynamite went off, or God forbid, premature gunfire, and considered what sort of distraction would be necessary to pull it off smoothly. Knowing Hosea, he would most likely handle it like the professional con-man that he is, drawing in a crowd to listen to him shout fancy nonsense about some incredible new product hitting the market. However, given the circumstances, he didn't think such a distraction would work on the local law. Pushing himself off the wall with a long sigh, he stored the idea for further thinking, and decided it would be best to discuss it with Dutch and Hosea.
Continuing his search for information proved to be beneficial. Now that many of the passengers had consumed some amount of alcohol, conversations became far less filtered, and far more interesting. He made note of a few people discussing where they'd hidden their life savings, inheritances, and even some good weapons. Greater still – at least for him – were the small handful of passengers who'd already lost far too much on the Grand Korrigan, and would be in desperate need of a loan by the Time they returned to shore to face their angry, disappointed families. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips; it always pleased him to be able to anticipate work for himself, especially when it meant that the gang would benefit from it. Then, just as quickly as it began to form, his grin faded as he imagined Sarah's face, and his heart sank.
Of course you would come to mind. He sighed, checking his watch. Only three minutes remained before the game would end, and he would lose. He turned, then, starting slowly towards the bar to meet Sarah, and declare her winner. He couldn't imagine what she may wish to do for the remainder of the evening, but he also couldn't imagine that she would want to remain in his company. Hands trembling, he adjusted his tie, and hastened his steps. He tried to imagine something pleasant, like another dance, or watching the sunset together, but his Mind would not allow it. All he could see was her; eyes misty and full of sadness, yet still she smiled. His pulse quickened, and his jaw clenched. There was a light pressure beginning to form, just behind the center of his brow. He scratched at it, but that only seemed to make the sensation stronger, and the vision of Sarah more vivid.
There is so much ahead of you, my dear. Leopold stopped cold as her voice rang through his head, clear as day. He spun around, half-expecting to find her walking his way, but he was alone. A disquieting chill passed through him as he turned back, and he checked his watch again, rounding a corner towards the stairs. Two minutes left. Before descending into the ballroom, he scanned as much of the room as he could see from the balcony. He saw Arthur leaving, and Javier heading out in the opposite direction. The two must have just finished their drinks. While searching for Josiah, his eyes stopped at the bar, and his heart skipped a beat; she was there, waiting for him. She suddenly turned her head, lifting a hand and smiling in his direction. His heart leapt again when she pushed away from the bar, and began crossing the ballroom floor. Nearly tripping over his own feet, he shuffled down the stairs.
"Congratulations, Leopold," she chuckled once he reached her. She beamed at him, and he cocked an eyebrow, unsure of why she'd be congratulating him. Then, she produced an ornate silver pocket watch, seemingly from out of nowhere, checked the Time, and put it away before he could get a close look at it. "With only thirty seconds remaining, too. You win."
"But…but you-" Dumbfounded, Leopold struggled to form a coherent sentence.
"But I what?" She laughed, reaching out and patting his shoulder. "You spotted me from the balcony, therefore you found me, and there was Time to spare." Edging closer to him, she placed a hand over his upper arm, her smile turning serene. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart seemed to stop for a moment. "So, Leopold…you choose. What shall we do until the poker tournament begins?"
"You can't really call my victory legitimate, Sarah," he blurted out before he could think it through. "I-I stopped searching…b-because…" He trailed off, wanting desperately to tell her the truth, but knowing it would lead into a discussion of his work. She waited patiently, her smile never faltering for an instant. He gulped, tugging at his collar. "I…I did a little reconnaissance for the gang."
"'Reconnaissance,'" she repeated slowly, letting the word roll off her tongue as though she were tasting it. "Very interesting choice of language. No matter, though. You still won, even if you didn't intend to."
"But-" He stopped himself there. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know; there was no point in arguing with her about it, and he had to make a decision. Once more, he tried to conjure a pleasant image in his Mind, and nearly asked her if she would like to watch the sunset with him. However, the only vision that took shape was her sad smile. He clenched his fists, then released them with a long sigh. Something in his gut told him that, no matter what, he wouldn't be able to avoid a conversation about the loansharking business, and everything it entailed. "Okay. I know what I want." He resigned, his resolve cementing itself.
"And that is?" She gave him a coy smile, tilting her head. Somehow, she looked as though she already knew what he was going to say, and it absolutely confounded him. Her hand traveled up his arm to his shoulder, her smile growing wider.
He took that hand, and reached for the other, holding them both tight, earning a thoughtful look from her. "I want to do whatever you want to do. I want you to decide what happens next."
"Oh my, Leopold," she chuckled, low and husky, shaking her head. "You're feeling rather bold tonight. Too much to drink?"
"Not enough, apparently," he said, unable to suppress a smile. "But that's my choice. It's your call."
"Well, then," she shook her head again, her smile turning warm, sending his heart aflutter. Taking one hand back from his grip, she procured a key, and passed it to him. "I'm in room 306. Come join me when you're ready." With that, she moved past him and started up the stairs, glancing over her shoulder to offer him a wink before carrying on. He stood there motionless, staring at the key as though it may bite him, wondering what exactly he'd gotten himself into.
