Free Masked by Moonlight by Allie Pleiter

Waterhouse will actually have to pen the word Bible a few more times, then I am all for letting him run with our tale.” The clergyman leaned close. “Ah, but Mr. Covington, could you not expose him as easily as I? After all, you’ve got the Bible now. I do wonder what the good Lord has in the offing with this one.”
    Matthew had not yet considered the idea of God somehow placing this particular Bible in his particular hands. It was an odd, squeamish thought to entertain. “What do you make of the Waterhouse family, Reverend? Did you know Georgia and Stuart’s parents at all?”
    Bauers either took the bait or chose not to recognize the diversion. “Alex and Audrey Waterhouse? No, but one hears things. I know Alex was the one to move the family business away from shipping into a variety of other interests, not the least of which is the newspaper Stuart now runs. Mrs. Waterhouse, from what I’ve been told, was a very great woman. Much like Georgia, I think. Very strong faith and a good, strong spirit. I’m not at all sure what she’d think of Stuart these days.”
    Matthew eased back in his chair and leaned his weight on his good hand. “And what do people think of Stuart Waterhouse these days?”
    Reverend Bauers paused, stroking his chin. “He can be a very great friend. Or a greater enemy. Still,” said the reverend, opening his bag, to Matthew’s growing distress, “I wonder if Stuart has even an inkling of all the good he’s doing.”
    “Whatever do you mean?” inquired Matthew, half out of curiosity and half to keep the man’s hands out of that blasted bag.
    “Oh, I know Stuart Waterhouse only thinks he’s landed on a new way to sell papers, but God is no stranger to using bad intentions for good. Take the book of Genesis, for example. Joseph’s brothers hardly had good intentions when they sold their little brother into slavery. God took their evil plot and used it to save thousands of lives.” Reverend Bauers held the paper up. “If Stuart could see what I see, how people believe the tales to be true because they need the Bandit to be real, it would frighten him to bits. Georgia is proud of her brother, despite his motives, because he gave San Francisco what it needed most—a hero. I’d like to think you wouldn’t be sporting that—” he pointed to Matthew’s wound—“if our young friend had had a better start in life and more men of character to show him how to behave.”
    “Did you catch the thieving little urchin?”
    “We did. And he was punished. Not to defend him, but you might steal as well if your father had poured all his wages into the bottom of a glass and your family hadn’t eaten in three days.”
    Matthew fingered the knot on his bandage again. “Hard times are no excuse for criminal behavior.”
    “Oh, he’s a bad seed, I’ll grant you that. But all these boys know is cheating. Dockworkers are cheated out of fair pay as often as you and I breathe. If there’s no justice around, you quickly learn to take all you can just to live. Steal to eat. Lads learn by example.” The clergyman heaved a sigh and set about opening the bag again.
    “Surely men of the cloth such as yourself can show them a better course,” Matthew said, attempting to keep the conversation open and the bag shut.
    “Come now, Mr. Covington!” The reverend spread his pudgy arms wide. “Do I look like the focus of a young man’s aspirations? I’ve no curves to capture their hearts and no gallantry to capture their minds. Oh, no, Covington. Surely you can see why Miss Waterhouse thinks the Bandit is such a fine idea. A swashbuckling man of mystery is just the thing to turn these young imaginations around. The Black Bandit may be the best thing Stuart Waterhouse has ever done for us.” Bauers chuckled as he pulled at the drawstring of the small brown bag. “Unless, of course, our Mr. Waterhouse can make his Bandit come to life. Now that’d be nothing short of a wonder.”
    He produced some