Page 9 of Murder on the Brighton Express
Harry smirked. “I believe you.”
“The last place I want to be is in a smelly, airless mews with a man who has nothing better to do than be annoying. I have a new case, as it happens, and it requires my attention.”
“I have to leave, too. I have an appointment in the tearoom on Piccadilly. I’ll walk you to the end of the mews and you can tell me all about your case.” He began to remove his overalls.
I didn’t wait.
“Cleo!” he said, catching up to me as he put his jacket on. “Why wouldn’t you wait for me? Are you afraid I’ll try to steal your case?”
“No. There’s no client.”
He adjusted his necktie. “So, tell me about it.”
“No.”
“Why not? We work well together.”
“Because there may not be a case. If there is, I have plenty of other people to discuss it with, including Monty.”
“Monty?”
“D.S. Forrester.”
“I know who Monty is, I just…” He sighed. “Never mind. Are you cross with me because I teased you about missing me?”
“Not at all.” We reached Piccadilly, where we had to part ways. I gave him no opportunity to press me further about my abruptness. I didn’t want to be forced to answer. I didn’t knowhowto answer. “Goodbye, Harry.”
“Cleo, wait.” He caught my elbow but quickly released it. His gaze softened, leaving me in little doubt of his feelings toward me. The intimate moment was somewhat ruined by the smudge of oil on his cheek. “I want you to know that I missed you, too.”
I crossed my arms, shot him a defiant look, and said, “I will ask Mr. Hobart to tell you that hedidsend me to the mews to speak to Cobbit. Then you’ll feel even more of a fool than you look.”
“How do I look?”
I smiled, turned around, and strode away without telling him about the smudge. I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder the entire way back to the hotel entrance.
Inside, Mr. Hobart smiled guiltily at me. So, hehadsent me to the mews knowing Cobbit wouldn’t be there, and Harry would. I ought to tell him to stay out of my affairs, but I didn’t have the heart. He was sweet and kind, and I knew he was fond of me in a fatherly way.
Besides, I didn’t want to explain why I was avoiding his nephew. I suspected he’d try to talk me out of my conviction, and I wasn’t ready for that conversation.
I plannedto spend the following morning catching up on my correspondence. I’d sent postcards to my friends in my former hometown of Cambridge while I was away, but wanted to go into further detail about my Brighton holiday. Writing letters also provided a distraction as I waited for Monty to call me back about any luggage that may have been left behind at Victoria Station. The more I thought about it, the more concerned I became for R.P. I was positive she hadn’t changed carriages during the journey. That left only one explanation for her disappearance.
The arrival of Miss Hessing was another welcome distraction. The bride-to-be couldn’t stop talking about her fiancé, and their future plans. Her bubbly chatter was a far cry from the shy woman I’d met when she and her mother first arrived at the hotel some months ago. It was clear from the way she cheerfully discussed the upcoming wedding that she didn’t know her mother was pressuring Floyd and Harmony to reduce the cost. I wouldn’t be the one to tell her. No one should. Her wedding day ought to leave her with wonderful memories.
Miss Hessing left an hour later, only to be replaced by Flossy, carrying some magazines in her arms. “I thought I might find Harmony here,” she said, taking a seat on the sofa.
“I haven’t seen her since breakfast. She’s very busy with the wedding.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to her about. I wanted to give her these.” Flossy fanned out the magazines on the table. “Before we left for Brighton, she borrowed a few to give her inspiration for the reception. I thought she might like to view the ones that came while we were away.”
“That’s kind of you to think of her. I’ll pass them along.”
There was a knock at the door and Floyd let himself in before I reached it. He thrust his wrist out to me. “Can you do up my cuff links?”
“Nice to see you, too, Floyd.”
“Sorry, yes, nice to see you, Cleo. You look well. Did you enjoy the holiday?”
“I did, thank you, particularly the sea bathing.”
