He shook hands with both inspectors and then gave me a warm smile.
“How are you, Scarlett?” he asked. He was playing it cool, as if he hadn’t been yelling at me just a few hours ago. I gave him a small nod to signify that I understood.
“Well, there’s been an unfortunate occurrence with one of our clients,” I said. I wanted to pat myself on the back for my own way with understatement.
“Really?” Harrison asked as if this was news.
“Yes,” Inspector Franks answered for me. “Which is why we’re here.”
“So, it’s not about Vivian then?” Harrison asked. “When I saw you I’d hoped . . .”
“No, Mr. Wentworth,” Franks said. They exchanged a look as if there was more to their conversation than the rest of us were aware of. “Unfortunately, we’ve had no luck in locating Ms. Tremont. However, one of her clients was found murdered this morning.”
“No!” Harrison sounded positively shocked and for a moment even I forgot that he already knew.
“I’m afraid so,” Inspector Franks said. He gave Harrison a considering look. “Lady Ellis was found stabbed, wearing only a hat from this shop, and Ms. Parker here was one of the first to find her.”
Harrison sat down beside me and took my hand in his. “Oh my god, are you all right?”
He looked so genuinely solicitous that I almost fell for it. Then I remembered how bossy he’d been, and I took my hand out of his and said, “I’m fine.”
He raised his eyebrows at me and I looked away, pretending that I didn’t get his silent message to go along with him. What did he think I was going to do? Tell the police he already knew all of this? Then again, why didn’t he want them to know?
I gave him a sideways glance, but he’d already turned back to Inspector Franks.
“Do they have any suspects yet?” he asked.
“We’re still following several leads,” Franks said.
Harrison nodded as if that was about what he expected.
“Ms. Parker,” Inspector Franks said. “Would you mind telling us again exactly what you saw and heard this morning while you were in the Ellises’ home? No detail is too small.”
“Not at all,” I said.
I proceeded to tell them exactly what I had told them before. I had no new details for them, which I’m sure was a disappointment, but the truth was, I had a feeling Lady Ellis had been dead for a while before we found her, otherwise how could her carpet have been so saturated with blood? I shivered at the memory of the carpet.
“All right?” Harrison asked, and I nodded.
Simms helped himself to another handful of grapes and as he munched he looked at me. After a good swallow, he asked, “Did you see anything that struck you as out of the ordinary when you entered the Ellises’ home?”
I blew out a breath and thought about it. Andre and I had been talking when we pulled up. I remembered climbing out of the car and studying the house while I waited for Andre to get his equipment.
“Honestly, I was so taken by the house that I didn’t really notice if anyone was out and about around us,” I said. “The only person I saw was the housekeeper, Mrs. Stone, when she let us in.”
“How was she when she greeted you?” Franks asked.
“Rude,” I said.
I saw Franks suppress a smile.
“Not anxious then?” Simms asked.
“No,” I said. “She was very calm and very condescending, but after she found Lady Ellis, well, she fainted.”
The inspectors both nodded. I had a feeling Mrs. Stone was in the clear.
“What about Lord Ellis?” I asked. “Has he been told about his wife’s death?”
“Yes,” Franks said. He heaved a sigh. “The media’s gotten hold of the story as well, so brace yourself. If they find out you were there, they’ll be knocking your door down next.”
As if in response to his words, the bells on the front door jangled. I glanced up to see an elderly woman and a younger version of herself come through the door. Not media but customers.
I rose to greet them, but Fee was already coming from the back. She glanced over at me and gave me a small nod, letting me know she would handle it. I took my seat again.
“How should I handle the press?” I asked. I felt my stomach twisting itself into knots. Not again. I really couldn’t bear to be in the bull’s-eye of the media again.
My face must have reflected my angst because Harrison rested his hand on my back, right in the middle of my shoulder blades as if trying to prop me up and comfort me at the same time.
“You can close the shop if you need to,” he said. “You don’t have to deal with all of this.”
I was so grateful, I almost wept. But then, I thought of our customers and how disappointed Mim would be if I drove our business into the ground because I closed up because of a few pesky reporters.
“No, it’s all right,” I said. “I can handle it.”
Inspector Franks was watching both Harrison and me with a speculative gaze. I did not want to tell him about my woes with the media, so I quickly shoved aside my dread.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” I asked.
“We’re going to need to search the shop and your cousin’s private residence,” Inspector Franks said.
“Why?” I asked. Probably I should have just said “okay,” but I wanted to know what they could possibly be looking for in here.
“We have to find your cousin,” he said. “With the victim clothed only in a hat that your cousin made for her, and your cousin being missing, well, it just leaves too many questions.”
“Surely you don’t think there’s a connection?” Harrison asked.
“At this point, I’m not ruling anything out,” Inspector Franks said. “Especially since Lord Ellis has confessed to being in love with your cousin Vivian and that his wife hated her.”
Chapter 22
“How did that come up?” Harrison asked. I could see his jaw clenching furiously and I could tell he was keeping his temper in check by sheer force of will.
“The hat,” Simms said. He had finally stopped eating and I noticed the tray I’d brought out had been cleaned of all but two crackers. “When Lord Ellis heard that his wife was wearing only the hat from this shop, he became quite distraught.”
Franks and Simms exchanged an uncomfortable look and I took that to mean that Lord Ellis had made quite a spectacle of himself. I tried to picture the smarmy Lord Ellis, who had been here just a few days before, looking distraught. I couldn’t picture it.
“I expect any man would be upset to hear that his wife was stabbed to death, never mind what she was wearing,” Harrison said. He put a hand on my shoulder and I took it to mean that I shouldn’t contribute to this portion of the conversation.
“Agreed,” Franks said.
“If you’d like to begin your search in the shop,” I said. “I can show you the upstairs where Viv and I live, when you’re ready.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Parker,” Franks said.
“We can start with her office area in back.”
We all rose and I led the inspectors toward the workroom. Fee was still helping the mother and daughter, who were happily settled in another sitting area, trying on hats. They were looking at bright colors and fun shapes so I suspected that this was a happy event for which they were buying their hats.
Fee glanced at us as we passed and I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. Mercifully, the back room was nice and tidy, with only a bit of clutter on the worktable from where Fee had been stitching some fine netting onto the brim of a black fascinator.
“Thank you, Ms. Parker,” Inspector Franks said. It was clear he wanted me out of the way while they searched. “We’ll let you know when we’re ready to look into the other rooms.”
“All right,” I said.
“You look a bit peaky,” Harrison said. “Let’s step outside and get some fresh air.”
It wasn’t a request
. He took my arm and led me out the back door into the tiny garden Viv kept at the back of the house. A fountain trickled in one corner while a trailing rose bush, its red leaves just bursting as they had not yet turned green, climbed up the back of the house and along one wall of the small, bricked-in courtyard.
“Come here,” he said.
“Where?” I asked. There was no room out here. Where were we supposed to go?
He opened his arms. “Here.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. Shocked.
“I want you close so we can’t be overheard,” he said. “It’ll look like I’m comforting you.”
A slow, burning flush filled my cheeks, but I stepped into his arms, and he rested his hands lightly on my hips.
“Now listen,” he said.
He was all business, and I tried to clear my head and pay attention, but I was having a heck of a time concentrating. No man had touched me, well, since hotel security had hauled me out of the reception hall and tossed me into the street, but that really didn’t count. And before that, well, I had thought the rat bastard had so little time for me because he was such a workaholic, yeah, not so much.
My nose was just inches from Harrison’s shirtfront. He smelled good, really good. It was a bay-rum, man smell. I liked it. I was trying to decide if it was his soap or his laundry detergent when I heard him huff out an exasperated breath.
“Ginger, are you listening to me?” he asked.
“Of course,” I lied.
“Then what did I just say?” he asked.
Busted! I tipped my head up to find him staring down at me. I figured he was going to be mad, but instead he studied my face and a small smile tipped up the corner of his mouth.
“You have no idea, do you?” he asked.
“None,” I admitted and he laughed.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked.
I noticed that we were still in our huddle, neither of us backing up, and I was abruptly aware of him, Harrison Wentworth in all his masculine glory, just inches from me. I felt my face grow hot and I took a quick step away from him.
He tipped his head to the side and studied me for a moment, and then a charming smile parted his lips. He looked wickedly intrigued.
Mercifully, the back door opened and Inspector Franks popped his head out. “We’re ready to check the rest of the house, Ms. Parker.”
“Absolutely,” I said.
Saved! I turned to go, but Harrison caught my hand and dragged me back up against him. It looked as if he were giving me a quick hug, but his lips were pressed right into my ear when he breathed the words, “Here’s the short version: say nothing.”
I stepped back from him and our eyes met. I knew he was saying that I shouldn’t volunteer any information to the inspectors, undoubtedly because Viv was now in a precarious spot given how Lord Ellis and Lady Ellis each felt about her.
I gave him a tiny nod and hurried to the door, and the inspector moved aside to let me pass. I did not look back at Harrison but I felt him watching me as I disappeared into the house.
They were very thorough in their examination of our living area. Still, I wasn’t sure what they were looking for, and I got the feeling they weren’t either. Viv hadn’t been here since Sunday. Obviously, Lady Ellis had been killed well after that. Surely they didn’t think she’d gone into hiding, then come out and killed her and then gone back into hiding again. It didn’t make any sense.
Whatever their feelings toward her, Viv was completely apathetic toward the Ellises. She didn’t have enough feeling for either of them to have done something like that.
“How is business?” Inspector Franks asked me. “Prosperous?”
“Yes, very much so,” I said. “Viv is a popular designer and her custom hats are quite expensive.”
“So, no financial woes then?”
“None,” I said. I knew what he was thinking. That if the business were in trouble, Viv would whack Lady Ellis so she could have a crack at the earl, thus solving any financial difficulties she might have. It was a theory, a good theory; it just didn’t hold up.
Harrison and Fee were downstairs when we came back into the shop from above. Per Harrison’s instructions, I had said nothing of any consequence during their search and had mostly spent the time trying to stay out of their way.
I closed the door to the upstairs behind me and turned to walk the inspectors to the front door. Harrison joined us as we crossed the room.
“You’ll let us know if you hear anything about Vivian?” he asked.
“Of course,” Inspector Franks said. They shook hands. “And if you hear from her, you’ll let us know.”
It wasn’t a request, and he was looking at me when he said it.
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
As we approached the front door, it was abruptly yanked open and a reporter and a camera crew shoved their way inside.
“There she is!” The reporter yelled. “The party crasher!”
The moment became surreal; everything slowed down and sound became muted as I watched the reporter lunging at me.
Chapter 23
I braced myself for impact, squinching up tight with my eyes shut and my arms drawn in, because he certainly didn’t appear to be slowing down, and being wedged between Harrison and Inspector Franks didn’t give me anywhere to go.
The impact never came. I opened one eye and noted that both inspectors were examining the ceiling as if looking for termites and Harrison was walking back into the shop, clapping his hands together as if he’d just taken out the trash.
I glanced over his shoulder and saw the reporter sitting on the curb with a look of shock on his face, as if uncertain of how he’d gotten there. The cameraman behind him was looking equally stunned.
I glanced back at Franks and Simms. Both were still looking up.
“There is some really excellent brushwork on the paint job on your ceiling,” Simms said. Then he looked back down and grinned at me.
I grinned back, realizing that they had been studiously examining the ceiling so as not to see Harrison manhandling the reporter.
“I’ll see you out, Inspectors,” Harrison said. He walked them to the door where they exchanged a low conversation.
As soon as the two men left, Harrison locked the door behind them and drew all of the blinds down.
“You’re going to have to be ‘appointment-only’ for a few days, I’m afraid,” he said. He studied my face. “All right, Scarlett?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. “Just startled.”
“I’d say so,” Fee chimed in. “That reporter was going to run you down.”
I blew out a breath.
“And, Harrison, you picked him up like he was a loaf of bread. Bagged him good, you did,” Fee said with approval.
Harrison shrugged. “I play rugby. That idiot would be toast on the pitch.”
Fee burst out laughing and only then did I get it. Loaf. Bagged. Toast. They were a witty bunch. I giggled but I think it was more a mini nervous fit than actual amusement.
“All right,” Harrison said. “I suppose it was too much to hope that they wouldn’t make the connection between you and Viv and your recent—”
“Exploits?” I supplied. My voice was dry, and he grinned at me as if relieved that I hadn’t lost my sense of humor.
“They’ll get tired of being camped out here,” Harrison said. “But if you need anything, call me. I can fetch and carry for you if need be.”
“Me, too,” Fee offered.
It was awfully nice of them, but I had no intention of being held hostage in the shop. I’d had more than enough of that when I was in Florida.
“Thanks, but don’t worry about me,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
Harrison watched me for a moment. He seemed to be studying me as if trying to get my measure. Whatever he saw reassured him, because he gave me a slow nod.
“I’ll call and check on you later,” he said. He strode out the front door, which Fee sh
ut and locked behind him.
We spent the next hour and a half ignoring the phone, which we eventually had to unplug. We used our cell phones to call our customers who had special orders so that they knew pickup would be by appointment only. I gave my cell number as the number to call, hoping I was not destroying our business by closing our doors.
Fee wandered over to the windows every half hour to check on the reporters.
“Still there,” she said. “Must be a slow news day in the city, yeah?”
We finished our calls and hunkered down in the back room with the shades drawn. It was depressing, but then I thought about Lady Ellis and I found it hard to complain.
There was a knock on the back door. Fee’s head snapped up from where she was working on five matching fuchsia-and-black hats for the bridesmaids of an upcoming wedding.
They were pointy-brimmed and short-crowned and Fee was attaching a spray of black and fuchsia feathers to the right side of each. A cluster of jet beads nestled in the center of the feathers, and I had to admit I was very curious to see the dresses that went with the hats. I figured it would go one of two ways, gorgeous or ghastly, but at least the hats were smart.
“Could they really have come ’round the building?” I asked in a whisper. Fee shrugged, giving me a wide-eyed look.
“Bloody hell, Scarlett, let us in,” a voice shouted from outside.
I gasped and looked at the door. Did the reporters know my name? I thought I was just “the party crasher.”
“Don’t make me start singing,” another voice bellowed.
“Oh, it’s Nick and Andre,” I cried.
I hurried to the door and yanked it open. Nick and Andre scuttled in, and I slammed the door behind them.
Nick, bless his heart, had a bottle of wine in each hand, and Andre was holding a box from the Hummingbird Bakery just a ways up on Portobello Road. He frowned at it.
“I think your cupcakes may have gotten smashed when we scaled the wall,” he said. “You’ve got reporters camped out front, you know.”
“You brought me cupcakes?” I asked. I felt my eyes get watery.
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