Page 8 of Heir of Uncertain Magic

“Right! MissLarkin.” MissRichards released her. “And this is Mr.Walker,” she repeated, introducing the square man again.

Mr.Walker massaged his forehead. “Let MissSteverus do the introductions, MissRichards.”

MissRichards simply shrugged and hung back, peering over MissSteverus’s desk, suddenly interested in something else.

Mr.Walker refocused on Hulda. “MissSteverus tells us you’re BIKER’s best employee.”

Hulda snorted, then covered her mouth with her hand. Pushing past a flush, she said, “MissSteverus is very complimentary. I hope your trip was untroubled.”

“Easy as it could be, being thrown about the Atlantic in a kinetic barge,” Mr.Baillie quipped. His enunciation was so sharp it nearly cut through the roundness of his accent. Straightening his narrow shoulders, he turned to Mr.Walker. “While the pleasantries are nice, we have work to do.”

“And MissLarkin is the first one we need to talk to.” Mr.Walker raised an eyebrow as though not-so-subtly warning Mr.Baillie to mind his manners. He turned to Hulda. “You worked closely with MissHaigh, yes?”

Mention of Myra sent her heart flipping. Maintaining a docile demeanor, Hulda nodded. “I did, when I wasn’t assigned elsewhere.” A knot formed in her stomach. What sort of audit did this man have in mind? “I’m afraid I don’t know her whereabouts.”Please tell me you do.

Mr.Walker frowned. “Unfortunate, as speaking with her directly would be ... beneficial.”

That was a negative, then.

“Hiding is a sign of guilt,” Mr.Baillie said, and Hulda decided she didn’t like him.

“Oh dear.” MissSteverus placed a hand on her breast. “Guilty of what?”

But Mr.Walker waved the question away. “Let us dig into this one grain at a time, shall we?” Stepping back, he gestured to Myra’s office. “If you don’t mind, MissLarkin.”

“Not at all.” Straightening her back, Hulda entered the office and made herself comfortable in a chair. Mr.Walker and Mr.Baillie followed, the latter closing the door behind him. Mr.Walker took Myra’s seat behind her empty desk, while his bespectacled friend tarried near the bookshelves.

“We have MissHaigh’s resignation letter,” Mr.Walker said as he opened a briefcase and removed several folders. “But would you mind sharing your experience?”

Hulda blinked. “With her resignation?”

He nodded.

“I ...” There was no mention of Marshfield, or Silas Hogwood, or a constable report. Myra must have been truly thorough, unless these visitors from LIKER were concealing the breadth of their knowledge. But if they’d truly only just arrived in the States, what could they possibly have learned? Squaring her shoulders, Hulda treaded carefully. She would speak only truth. Whether the omittance of other truths would be held against her ... she’d mull over that later.

“I was not in Boston when it happened,” she admitted. “I’ve been stationed at Whimbrel House—our newest acquisition. It’s located in the Narragansett Bay, on Blaugdone Island, specifically.”

Mr.Walker nodded. “I’ll pull up that file as well. How are things there?”

Hulda considered the question for half a beat. “Temperate, thankfully. I heard about Myra—MissHaigh’s—resignation from MissSteverus.” She paused. “Might I ... Would it be against decorum for me to read it?”

Mr.Walker glanced at Mr.Baillie, then pulled the handwritten notice out of the topmost folder. He passed it to Hulda. After adjusting her spectacles, Hulda read carefully, hoping to uncover another clue.

To whom it may concern,

I, Myra Haigh, regretfully resign from my position as director of the Boston Institute for the Keeping of Enchanted Rooms. Significant family matters have pulled me away.

Sincerely,

M.Haigh

The letter was insufficient. In addition to its brevity, it lacked a reasonable explanation for her defection. Myra didn’t have any family inthe States. Not close family. Hulda highly doubted that she’d suddenly sailed to Spain to reconnect with great-aunts or second cousins.

“Thank you.” She passed the letter back.

Mr.Walker returned the letter to its folder. “Now, I understand you don’t work directly with the overseeing of the company, but I must ask in case youdoknow something useful. We’ve sifted through BIKER’s bank records and have found unaccounted-for funds.”

Hulda blinked. She had not expected the statement. “Unaccounted? Funds?” Had Myra used BIKER funds to take care of the mess in Marshfield? Hulda’s skin was growing warm beneath her dress.I’m sorry, Myra. I’m not sure how long I can protect you.

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