Page 40 of Failure to Match

Her tone carried so much firm conviction that it left no room for argument. I could see it in her eyes. She believed it with every fiber of her soul.

“I can’t blame you for it. Truly, I can’t,” she went on. “I realize Jackson’s behavior has been more than a little damning, but there are so many things you don’t know. And how could you, really?”

“Is that why you’re here? To provide me with that information?”

She placed her barely touched tea back on the tray so she could fiddle with her apron. “In a sense. I’d also like to ask you for a favor. Well, two of them.”

I finished off the pastry, nodding for her to go on.

“Not for free, of course. I’m willing to pay you for your efforts and?—”

I quickly shook my head, waiting until I was done chewing to interrupt her. “Molly. I don’t want your money.”

She hesitated. “They’re not small, these favors.”

“Why don’t you tell me what they are first?”

But before she could map out a way to get the words out without overstepping whatever internal moral boundaries she’d set for herself, another set of knocks echoed through the room.

Molly blinked up at me, her brows drawing together. “Who could that be, at this hour?” she whispered.

My inkling was confirmed when, without prompt, the person on the other side of the door quietly declared, “Hello, Miss Paquin? It’s me, Mabel Harrison.”

Color me shocked.

“What isshedoing here? She told me she was going to bed early!” Molly hissed, scandalized by her twin’s willingness to spin such reprehensible lies.

My guess was that both sisters were here for the same thing but, “Let’s see, shall we?”

I got up to open the door just as Molly scuttled into a corner, hiding from view.

“Hello, Mabel.”

“Hello, dear,” she greeted with a wide smile. “Care for a nighttime treat? Steamed milk and honey with raspberry biscuits.”

There were two cups on the circular tray she’d brought with her.

I smiled. “That’s very thoughtful of you. Would you care to join me?”

Not that I’d needed to ask, seeing as how she was already pushing her way past me and into the room.

“Oh, well, if you insist.”

“Mabel Harrison!”

“Ah!” Foamy milk splashed across the silver tray as Mabel jolted. “Oh, for heaven’s—what are you doing here at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?”

“Meowrrr,” Toebeans complained, ears twitching. Ruckus wasn’t tolerated in his vicinity.

Mabel started again. “Good lord, any other living thing lurking in this room that I should know about?”

“Just us,” I assured her. “That’s Toebeans. He’s chill if you don’t invade his personal bubble.”

“He doesn’t like strangers,” Molly clarified.

“Does he not?”

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