Page 36 of One Last Smile

In any case, Niall isn’t really a suspect anymore. The description Dr. Chalmers gave matches Alistair, and even if he’s lying, the Carltons have more motive than Niall does to want Minnie dead. I have a photograph showing Niall staring lustfully at her, but all men stare at beautiful women the same way. I can’t assume he’s a murderer simply because he likes to look at attractive young women.

And I need someone who will talk to me. The people who might have answers for me are either suspects or they’re refusing to share what they know. Granted, Niall himself refused to share what he knew beyond a cryptic hint, but I’m growing desperate. I feel like I’m circling around the answer to this problem, but I can’t quite reach it.

And I suppose I do take this personally. Aside from the guilt I still feel over losing Annie, it offends me that simply because the Carltons are wealthy they should be immune from prosecution. I should look into the police records of the case. I would love to know how they justified caving to Sebastian’s refusal to allow the property to be searched.

It hits me for the first time that Minnie could be anywhere. I could have walked over her grave and not even known it.

I shiver and then curse. It only heightens my resolve to learn what happened. No one should die and then just be left to fade into memory!

Righteous Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?

“Shut up, Annie.”

“Shouldn’t talk to yourself where others can hear you,” a familiar voice interjects. “Might give ’em the wrong impression.”

I spin around and see Niall a few yards behind me, hands in his pockets, insolent grin on his face. “And you shouldn’t sneak up on women unawares,” I fire back. “It might make them think you’re a murderer.”

“You don’t think I’m a murderer,” he says. “Else you wouldn’t be here by yourself. You thought I was the last time, though, didn’t you? Looked ready to bolt the moment I said boo.”

I hesitate for a second, then admit the truth. “Yes. I considered the possibility.”

Niall seems to think that hilarious. He throws his head back and laughs, a rough sound like the cackling of an old crow. When he recovers, he says, “Can’t say I blame you. A proper girl like you probably took one look at me and knew I was no good. ‘Probably don’t even wash himself proper,’ you thought.”

“You’ve made your point,” I interrupt. “How foolish everyone is to judge you simply because you’re an uncouth, rude, boorish, and unkempt man.”

He thinks that is even more hilarious. This time, when he finishes laughing, he says, “And yet here you are coming to talk to me again. Pretty as you are, I can’t think it’s that you desire my company.”

My eyes narrow. “Certainly not in that way.”

“’Course not,” he says. “Woman like you could have your pick of any number of gentlemen. So if it’s not a cuddle you’re looking for, I surmise you’re hoping to learn something more from me about the missing girl.”

“Yes. I know that last time you told me to keep my nose out of it—”

“And here you are with your nose buried deep inside the arse of the Cotswolds anyway.”

I turn around and start walking away. He calls after me, “If you think I’m going to chase you and beg your apology, you’re wrong.”

I want nothing more than to leave him behind, but rude as he is, he could be my last chance to learn what I need. So although it galls me to my core, I turn back.

He grins at me, naked triumph in his face. I understand him now, I think. He is intelligent and successful, yet he will be nothing more than a cockroach to these people, and, since his manners are rough, he won’t even receive credit for the intelligence and success he does possess.

And women all look at him with disgust. A perfectly understandable reaction, but one that no doubt hurts him as well. Perhaps I am wrong to dismiss him as a suspect.

I set that aside for now. It’s still a very thin reason to suspect him, and I have much stronger reasons to suspect the Carltons.

“I am trying to bring justice to a young girl,” I say. “One who whatever her faults hardly deserved to be wiped off the face of the Earth as though she didn’t exist.”

“Why?”

I blink in surprise. “What do you mean why?”

“It’s a simple enough question.”

My hackles rise again. “Why? Because it’s not fair! She was kidnapped, probably murdered, and probably buried in an unmarked grave. She was a person with a life—loves, interests, dreams, desires—and all of that was tossed aside for… for what? Damn it, I don’t even know why!”

“So what?”

“So… Niall, if you’re going to be difficult just to be difficult, then I’ll leave you right now.”

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