Page 10 of The Highland Heist
He gave an audible swallow, glancing down at Lillias’ unconscious form before turning back to Grace. “Perhaps you should go send the driver for a policeman.”
“And leave you here alone?”
His lips almost tipped, and he sighed. “Of course not, but I’m hesitant to leave your sister alone at the scene of the crime while it is fresh.”
His one statement cleared Grace’s mind into action. Her family or not, this was a mystery, and it could very well prove that any observation helped make more sense of the situation or cleared Lillias’ name, because at present it looked very much like her sister had murdered her own husband.
Grace had never even imagined such a thought, let alone truly suspected it to cross her mind! She shook away the shock and scanned the room. The dagger. The open door. Lillias’ dainty hands, clean and unbloodied. Shouldn’t there be blood if she’d wielded the knife?
“Look at this.” Frederick gestured toward faint scrapes on the floor leading to a hallway.
Grace moved to join him, but before she could, the front door burst open. A man in a bowler hat and navy suit stood in the doorway, gun drawn.
“What’s this?” he barked.
Frederick stepped in front of Grace, raising his hands. “We mean no harm.”
“Keep those hands up. That’s right.” The man peered at them through a pair of rounded spectacles, his pale eyes shifting from Frederick to Grace and then back to the body on the floor.
His mustache was particularly unsatisfying … and crooked.
Very villain-like. An unrefined villain.
“Who are you?” Frederick asked, lowering his arms a little.
“I’ll be the one asking questions,” the man spat out. “I heard the screams during my circuit and came running.”
What sort of accent did the stranger have? Certainly not Virginian. Was it northern?
“We just arrived,” Frederick said calmly. “My wife’s sister is in shock—”
“Just arrived in time to stab a man?” the stranger sneered.
“He was dead when we got here.” Grace peeked around Frederick. “Honestly, must we converse with our hands in the air? We’re not criminals.”
“Your presence at the scene of a crime would suggest otherwise.” But he lowered his gun to his side, his beady little eyes taking inventory of the room. “Officer Clark. This is my jurisdiction. If you don’t want trouble, tell me what happened.”
Before Grace could answer, a scream pierced the room. All eyes turned to a doorway nearby where a maid stood with a baby in her arms, and unfortunately, her shriek inspired the baby’s hearty response. Somehow, this cacophony roused Lillias from her faint.
Did most women scream at the sight of a dead body? Grace blinked a few times, trying to remember her fiction. Why hadn’t she ever felt compelled to scream? She’d already seen a few dead bodies and, despite a deep sense of sadness and a little curiosity, she’d never felt the urge to scream. It just seemed to waste time, leave people’s ears ringing, and give away one’s position.
Officer Clark’s eyes grew wide, and he lowered his gun even more as Lillias stood and stared down at Tony’s body all over again. Her face paled anew.
“I’m not staying.” The maid shook her head and, without hesitation, pushed the baby into Grace’s arms. “I’ve put up with enough in this house with all the fighting.” She looked back at the body in the middle of the room and backed away, shaking her head with such force her dark hair bounced in its bun. “Now you’ve gone andkilledhim?” With another gasp, the woman dashed down the hall, leaving Grace looking from the crying baby over to Frederick, then to Officer Clark, to finally land on Lillias.
“I—I didn’t …” Lillias stammered and moved toward the maid’s retreat only to nearly step on Tony. Her palm went to her chest. She swayed and dropped back to the couch, remaining seated and alert, at least.
That was progress.
Grace rushed to Lillias’ side, taking a seat beside her and rubbing little Thomas’ back. She wasn’t certain if that is what one did with distraught babies, but it seemed to work. His little face burrowed into her neck, and she nearly forgot about the dead body in the middle of the room.
Baby Thomas was so small. Grace wasn’t certain what she’d expected at four weeks old, but he snuggled nicely into the curve of her elbow.
“You killed your husband?” The officer returned his gun to the air. “How vile to be betrayed by his own wife.”
In half a dozen steps, Frederick took his stance as barrier yet again between the weapon and Grace. Oh, he was just the most heroic of men, and she would have told him so if she didn’t have a weeping sister to one side, a crying baby in her arms, and a dastardly looking officer pointing a pistol at them.
“That is a premature accusation, Mr. Clark.” Frederick kept his tone measured. “There has been no investigation.”
