Free Shaken to the Core by Jae Page A

then opened the hinged door at the back of the camera to insert a seven-by-five-inch dry plate, still in its plate holder. Working in complete darkness, she slid the camera closed and sealed off the light-sensitive plates. Her fingers moved as if by themselves, performing the familiar task without needing even the amber light from the oil lamp.
    Finally, she packed the camera into its leather carrying case and slipped half a dozen unexposed glass plates into the compartment next to it. She gazed at her collapsible tripod and then decided not to take it with her. Newsworthy events usually happened fast, so there wouldn’t be time to set up the tripod. At the last moment, she decided to take the flash pan and a bit of magnesium powder, just in case she had to take a photograph without good light available.
    Her equipment all packed, she considered the next step of her operation. Should she take the Packard to drive to City Hall? The chances that her parents would hear her start the engine were small since they kept the automobile on the other side of the yard in the former stable. But any chance, no matter how small, was too much for Kate. If her father noticed her gone, he would send their butler after her.
    What about her bicycle? Up until her father had bought the automobile, that bicycle had taken her everywhere, much to the consternation of her mother. But it didn’t have a place to put her equipment, and if she hung the carrying case from the handlebar, the fragile glass plates might break.
    There was only one option: she’d have to walk down Nob Hill and somehow sneak into City Hall.
    The carrying case in hand, she tiptoed out into the hall to get her coat.
    A crashing sound from inside of the study made her freeze. Had her father dropped one of his thick, leather-bound books? A low moan drifted over. Kate’s heart started beating faster. She put the carrying case down and rushed into the study.
    * * *
    Stupitu! That had been a really stupid thing to do. Giuliana wanted to slap herself. From her position on the floor of the study, she stared at the toppled-over chair and the books that had rained down on her. She’d taken off her shoes and climbed up onto one of the upholstered chairs to reach the top shelf of Mr. Winthrop’s bookcase, but even with the help of the chair, she hadn’t quite been able to reach the books on the very right. Instead of climbing down, repositioning the chair, and climbing back up, she had leaned to the side, her arm with the feather duster stretched out as far as it would go.
    That was when the chair had toppled over. She fell, landed with her foot twisted between a chair leg and a spindle, and crashed to the floor. Luckily, the carpet had broken her fall.
    Get up! What if someone heard you and comes in? When she tried to get up, pain lanced through her left ankle. “Ouch. Minchia.” She dropped back onto the carpet and clutched her foot.
    The door was pulled open.
    Oh no. Now her days in the Winthrop residence were numbered for sure.
    “Giuliana!”
    It wasn’t Mrs. Winthrop’s shrill voice or Mr. Winthrop’s booming baritone. Relief swept through Giuliana. Miss Kate wouldn’t give her away.
    “What happened? Are you hurt?” Miss Kate rushed over to her and knelt next to Giuliana with complete disregard of any wrinkles it would put into the dress she’d worn to dinner.
    “Sssh,” Giuliana whispered. “They will hear you.”
    Fine lines appeared on Miss Kate’s smooth forehead. “They?”
    Heat crept up Giuliana’s neck. “Your mamma and papà.”
    Miss Kate went to the door and closed it before returning. “What happened?” she asked again. “And why are you still here? I thought you’d gone home already.”
    “I wanted to dust the bookcase before I go, so it is clean if…”
    “If my mother decides to get out the white gloves and check again,” Kate finished the sentence for her.
    Giuliana looked down and nodded. “I wanted to do good this time.”
    “I