by Rebecca King
“But he doesn’t want me.” When tears gathered on her lashes, Pheony squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to hold them at bay, but they trickled down her cheeks anyway.
It was at some point during these tears that Pheony made the decision to leave the safe house and Dean behind – no matter what it took.
CHAPTER NINE
Dean stared at the angry inn keeper in disbelief. “They just disappeared?”
The inn keeper slapped a tray of empty tankards onto the bar and whirled to glare at them. “They didn’t come with much, but I never thought anything of it. The damned matronly woman wanted the best of everything. They ate the best meals, drank the finest wines I have in the tavern, and slept in some of my best rooms. They had the maids wait on them hand and foot for three days, and then disappeared. The witch and her cats had that coachman of theirs fix the carriage and get it ready to leave. I had no idea what they had planned. The coachman seemed a decent sort and worked late into the night to try to get the family moving again. This morning, I went up to their rooms but found them empty, and their carriage gone. The lot of them crept out in the dead of night and left without paying me a single penny. God knows where they live. I doubt that they have given me their real address. They gave me this.” The inn keeper yanked the guest book off a side table, slapped it down before him, then flipped through the pages until he found the woman’s handwriting. Jotting down the address on another piece of paper, he shoved it at a shocked Roger. “She owes me money. Leaving without paying her bill for either the accommodation or the food and drink she and her brood had is theft.”
“It is indeed,” Roger drawled. He scowled down at the address and pocketed it. “How much do they owe you?”
The inn keeper named a sum that made Daniel and Dean look at each other in astonishment. “I wonder if this is something they do often.”
“I wonder if that is why Pheony wanted to stay close to me,” Dean whispered.
“It might be that she didn’t want to get drawn into any more thieving,” Daniel sighed. “At least she has removed herself from the blame.”
“She shared a room with her-” Dean struggled to put a name to Pheony’s connection to the daughters of her guardian. “Guardian’s daughters?”
“The cost of the room that Pheony was supposed to use has to be borne by Augusta seeing as her own daughter stayed in there once Pheony had left,” Daniel muttered. “At least she did remove herself from any blame and didn’t sleep in the room knowing that it wasn’t going to be paid for. We need to go and see Pheony to find out if this is her real address.”
Dean was thoughtful as they returned to the safe house. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Pheony right now. He had behaved like an utter fool when he had seen her and Hamish in the hallway, and he still hadn’t made his mind up what he was going to do about the future with Pheony, or even whether he wanted her to be a part of his future. He had no idea what he was going to do and that was damned frustrating because his life with the Star Elite involved making plans and sticking to them.
“While we are here, let’s see if anybody has seen Morton,” Daniel suggested. Clapping a concerned Dean on the shoulder, Daniel could only hope that they didn’t cross paths with Morton because as distracted as he was, Dean was likely to be shot.
“That was the address that Augusta gave to the inn keeper?” Pheony stared down at the unfamiliar address.
“You don’t recognise it?”
“No. It’s not where she lives,” Pheony replied. She rattled out Augusta’s real address and watched Dean slide into a seat beside her. Rather than sit beside her and face the table, he turned his chair sideways until he was facing her. Pheony had to push her chair out a little to sit facing him. Unfortunately, that brought their legs close together, and that was wholly distracting for Pheony, who suddenly found herself battling the constant need to reach out and touch him.
“Have they done this kind of thing before? How many other taverns have you stayed at that Augusta has left without paying?” Ronan demanded.
“None. Well, I don’t think she has done this before,” Pheony whispered. “I have always been made to carry the bags out to the carriage and was eager to keep my distance from them all. They squabble a lot, you know.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Dean snorted. “You haven’t witnessed any financial transactions between Augusta and the inn keepers then?”
Pheony shook her head.
“Where were you going to or from?”
“We were returning from visiting one of Augusta’s cousins, but they had an argument. We were only there for a couple of days and had to return home because Augusta was in a snit.” Pheony frowned. “I don’t think her cousin was expecting us.”
“Does she have a tendency to appear at people’s doors and expect them to accommodate her?”
“It isn’t just Augusta they have to accommodate,” Pheony whispered. “Augusta and her daughters travel everywhere together and drag me with them. Augusta often turns up uninvited. Most people don’t appreciate having their plans and homes thrown into chaos by unexpected guests, especially ones like Augusta and her brood. You have heard them. They are no different when they are in people’s homes.”
“Good Lord,” Roger whispered.
“As far as I know, Augusta hasn’t left any taverns without paying before,” Pheony whispered. “But I cannot be sure because on the mornings we have left, I have stayed outside as long as possible to try to avoid having to rush around after them.”
“Which taverns did you stay at and where were they, and when did you stay there?” Roger had no intention of riding up and down the length of the country to visit the taverns involved. He would write to the local magistrates instead and get them to provide him with the information he needed.
Pheony gave him the pertinent information.
“And teach time you have stayed in taverns you have been on your way to or from visiting people who weren’t expecting her?” Dean pressed.
“Yes,” Pheony replied. “I didn’t think that Augusta was a criminal, though.”
“Is she likely to have just forgotten to pay?” Dean asked.
“God, no. If there is one thing Augusta is obsessed with it is people’s wealth. She judges people by the cut of their clothing and what they do for a living and their fortunes. She wouldn’t forget to pay.”
“How wealthy is Augusta?”
“Like I have said, her husband was wealthy when he was alive.”
“When did he die?”
Pheony squinted across the room. She struggled to sit still because Dean was so close her heart was pounding and she struggled to concentrate. “My father died six years ago. Her husband died a year before him. It was her husband’s death that pressed my father to write his own will and secure Augusta as a guardian for me.”
Peregrine hissed a disgruntled breath because he couldn’t understand why someone would do that to their own child. “I take it that Augusta hasn’t changed much since your father knew her.”
“God, no. She was always the loudest in the room, the nosiest, and the most scornful of others.”
“Look, we can’t change what has gone on in the past. We are concerned with the fact that Augusta and her brood have run up a huge bill at the tavern that they have failed to pay,” Roger growled looking at Pheony. “I am very relieved that on this occasion you kept away from them, and didn’t sleep in the room with-”
“Carlotta,” Pheony provided, doing her best to ignore the telling way her cheeks turned florid.
“They are going to be arrested for theft,” Roger warned.
“All of them?” Pheony looked at Dean in shock and watched him nod slowly.
“I am afraid that what they have done constitutes theft. Did you eat anything while you were there, or sleep in the bed chamber?”
Pheony told them everything she had done while at the tavern.
“We can’t arrest you for being there,” Roger warned. “The people w
ho ran up the bill were Augusta and her daughters.”
“Are you really going to arrest them?” Pheony couldn’t believe it. She almost felt sorry for the gaol’s other prisoners when Augusta joined them because would have a moment of peace.
“We have to.” Dean sighed. “But it has to wait. We need to find the gunman we have been investigating. We think we know who he is. Can you tell us what you saw? I know you have already told us, but think carefully about size, shape, how they moved.”
Pheony recounted what she had seen. It had been nothing more than a shifting shape the size of which had only been a fleeting impression.
“It’s Morton. He must have followed us from Sprankley,” Hamish announced.
“He has to still be around here somewhere,” Daniel muttered, aware that Luke and Ronan were already out searching for him. Joshua had tried to pick up the man’s trail in the woods but had lost him as soon as they had reached the nearest main road.
“Get some sleep. You look tired,” Dean said softly.
Pheony tried to harden herself against the gentleness in his eyes. Everything he had done thus far had made her wonder if he did care about her after all. She tried to remind herself that he saw her as nothing more than a burden he wanted rid of, but it was difficult when his lips curved, and his eyes were shining gently upon her with a warmth she had rarely seen. She now felt guilty for having spent most of last night planning her departure from the house.
This time without falling out of the window, I hope.
Before she could excuse herself from the room, they were interrupted by the arrival of Ronan who shoved the kitchen door open and waved a nervous looking woman into the room. It was evident from the way she looked around the room with wide eyes that she was terrified of venturing into the building. She physically quaked in her boots as she stood just inside the door, staring at Roger as if she were looking at the Devil himself.
“Mrs Brian.” Roger nodded briskly. “How can we help you?”
“I am sorry for the intrusion, sir, but I have something to tell you that you might be interested in hearing,” Mrs Brian began.
“Oh?” Roger didn’t bother to wave her to a chair because he didn’t intend for her to stay. “Go on.”
“Well, I have seen Morton in Brampton, sir. He is friends with that Stuart Boulton, you know. My friend, Maureen, saw him going into Boulton’s house last night, and he didn’t come out.”
Roger tipped his head and squinted suspiciously at Mrs Brian. “Now why would you tell us that? Don’t you have some sort of familial connection with Morton?”
“I wish I didn’t,” the woman replied. “If it weren’t for Morton, my Davey wouldn’t be behind bars right now.”
Roger didn’t doubt it, although didn’t remind the woman that if she had taught her son not to commit crimes in the first place, he wouldn’t have been lured into helping Morton defraud people.
“Nobody forced Davey to commit arson,” Dean warned.
Mrs Brian glared at him. “Well, I just thought you should know. Whatever my Davey has done, I don’t see why he should be behind bars for his crimes when Morton isn’t and has done a lot worse than my Davey, I can tell you that much.”
“We know,” Dean growled. “Thank you for telling us.”
“Which house do you think Morton is at?” Roger stepped forward.
“Number thirteen Collman Street,” Mrs Brian replied.
“And you think he is still there,” Peregrine said.
“Nobody saw him leave. It might be that he left in the middle of the night, but if he isn’t there, Boulton should be able to tell you where to find him.”
“You know that Morton is going to want to extract revenge if he finds out that you have talked to us about his location, don’t you?” Roger murmured.
“Boulton might want revenge as well,” Dean added.
“With your husband behind bars too, Mrs Brian, it might be a good time for you to remove yourself from the village for a while. Go and stay with a relative if you can. We will go and look for him. Thank you for the information,” Roger replied.
The woman looked around the room as if waiting to see if the information she had given them was believed or not. She looked perplexed as if unable to understand why the Star Elite weren’t already charging out of the door to go and storm Boulton’s house. Eventually, she nodded at them before scuttling back out of the door.
“Do you believe her?” Dean asked with a sideways look at Roger once the door had closed behind Ronan and their informant. Everyone in the Star Elite knew that Ronan would escort the woman off the property and back to the village and would then search the area for more intruders before returning to his watch.
“At this point in our investigation we cannot afford to disbelieve her,” Roger sighed. “We are going to have to pay Boulton a visit, if only to get information out of him.”
“When?” Peregrine rapped, hating to have to stand around and do nothing when he could be at home.
“There is no time like the present,” Roger announced. “Let’s get this over and done with so we can close this investigation, and all get on with our lives.”
With murmured agreements, the men started to get ready to leave. They gathered food, guns, water, cloaks, and boots. They worked with such brisk efficiency that all Pheony could do was sit still and watch them. But she felt like an outsider, an intruder on their private space. It was a stark reminder that she didn’t really belong in Dean’s life. Regardless of what they had shared in that tavern, it had been a fleeting moment of promise and pleasure that was now in the past. She hadn’t realised at the time that what it would bring her in the longer term was heartbreak and isolation. Now, she was left to wonder what the future held in store for her because she felt cast adrift from everything; a ship without an anchor being thrown around on a storm-tossed sea, unable to reach the solidity of dry land and people.
Further, everyone is going about their business except me.
Feeling useless now as well as alone, Pheony slipped out of the room. Dean had disappeared into a side room to fetch something and most of the men were busy packing guns and equipment into saddle bags. While nobody was paying attention, she snuck upstairs.
Once in her bed chamber, Pheony sat on the edge of the bed and tried to decide what to do with her evening because one thing was evident, she was going to be spending it alone.
CHAPTER TEN
Several nights later, Pheony flopped over in bed and sighed as she snuggled down beneath the covers. She wasn’t sure what had woken her but didn’t pay too much attention to the footsteps creeping quietly past her bed chamber door anymore, or the repetitious hoots of the owl that sat in the tree outside her bed chamber window every night. She was usually oblivious to the snickering of horses in the field beside the house too, and the occasional jangle of harnesses on the horses that were ridden past the house as the men returned from and went on watch. She was now familiar with all the night-time noises in the safe house. They shouldn’t have disturbed her, but something had made her jolt awake.
Something was wrong.
She wasn’t alone, she was sure of it. Although her bed chamber door was closed, someone was in the room with her. Pheony became more certain of it when a floorboard near to the window creaked. Her first thought was that it was Dean. The instant that she thought it might be him created a wild thrill of delight to surge through her, but it was quickly dampened by the reality that he had stayed away from her for the last several days. She hadn’t set eyes on him even once, to the point that she started to suspect that she never would see him while she stayed at the safe house. He was avoiding her. Consequently, her time at the house was even more troubled than it needed to be, but it had nothing to do with Augusta’s criminality or the Star Elite’s investigation into Morton. It hurt that he could cut her out of his life so effectively, so easily, and without any qualms whatsoever.
She would have remained perfectly still and waited for him to just
leave, or wake her up, had it not been for the terror she felt when she sensed the presence leaning over her. Fear compelled her to open her eyes. All she could see was a dark shape. When she felt a cold hand gently touch her cheek, though, her defences vanished. Pheony placed a hand over his. The only man who would do this, and be this close to her, was Dean. She was glad of this moment to talk to him alone without his friends listening to what was being said. When he leaned over her a little further, she didn’t give him the chance to speak. Reaching upward, Pheony tugged his head down to hers and kissed him.
It took a moment for her sleep fogged mind to register that the hair on this man’s head was different to Dean’s – it was longer, and curlier in the neck. Further, the lips that touched hers weren’t as familiar to her as Dean’s. Moreover, they weren’t responding. Gasping in astonishment, she blinked into a pair of equally shocked eyes and immediately released the intruder, but Bert didn’t have the time to move away from the bed before the bed chamber door swung open.
“Just what in the Hell is going on in here?” Dean growled, staring at the stranger in Pheony’s bed chamber. His first instinct was to wrestle the man to the ground, but given the kiss he had just seen, and the man’s protective stance beside the bed, he rather felt he would be a fool to do so. In fact, he felt as if he had been made a fool of enough already. Rather than stomp into the room to protect her virtue, Dean propped one casual shoulder against the door jamb and lifted his brows at the man who was dressed from head to toe in black. “Care to tell me who you are?” He pretended a casualness that was at odds with the pain he really felt.
