Page 12 of The Highland Heist
“Had you ever seen Officer Clark before?” Frederick interjected.
Grace sent him a look.
“He called your sister by name,” he explained to Grace. “We never mentioned her name.”
Lillias sent him a wearying look, clearly not following. “No, I—I don’t think so.”
Before anyone could respond, the front door burst open. Three policemen entered, the first with his pistol drawn. He froze mid-step, his gaze bouncing from one person to the next. His eyes lingered on Zahra cradling the baby before dropping to the shrouded figure on the floor.
It was the calmest murder scene Frederick had ever been a part of.
He paused on that thought for a moment, suddenly aware how very odd it sounded to his own mind.
“Which one of you is Mrs. Dixon?” The man barked the question, causing Zahra and Lillias to flinch.
Frederick spread his hands in a placating gesture. “Sir, there’s no need for weapons. Everyone here wishes to cooperate fully.”
The man lowered the gun reluctantly as a second officer, better dressed and more composed, stepped forward. His medium brown hair waved away from his face and matched the color of his close-shaven beard and mustache, his expression proving much more welcoming than the first man. “Detective Johnson,” he introduced himself. “This is Officer Todd and Davis.”
“Thank you for coming,” Frederick said. “I’m Lord Astley, and this is my wife, Lady Astley. Mrs. Dixon, the lady of the house and my wife’s sister.” He gestured to Lillias, who gave a faint nod, her pallor concerning. “We’re visiting my wife’s family and wish to assist in any way we can.” Frederick continued. “Officer Clark said he’d send you to investigate.”
“Officer Clark?” The first man, presumably Todd, barked out the question. “Who the blazes is Officer Clark?” The one without the weapon raiseed his fist. “I’ll not have any funny business, sir. I don’t know what sort of law and order they keep over in jolly old England, but ‘round here, we don’t abide misleading the police.”
“We’re not.” Grace came to Frederick’s side. “He came shortly after my husband and I had arrived and said he was going to fetch more police. He left not half an hour ago.”
Johnson raised a hand, silencing the room. “Wait. Are you saying a man calling himself Officer Clark was here, saw the scene, and left to find reinforcements?”
“Exactly.” Grace nodded. “And he was rather rude about it too.”
Frederick’s stomach twisted. A mancalling himselfOfficer Clark?
“He accused my sister of murdering her own husband without collecting any evidence or even examining the room.” Grace continued, gesturing toward Todd. “I believe your policemen are in need of more thorough training.”
“How did Officer Clark know to come to the house?” This from the detective.
Frederick held the man’s gaze, a sickening awareness slowly beginning to dawn. “He said he heard the screams while on patrol and came to assist.”
“What is it?” Grace’s voice rose into Frederick’s emerging thoughts. “What’s wrong?”
Detective Johnson looked from Frederick to Officer Todd and then back, his lips pressing tight before he answered. “We will certainly begin an investigation on what happened to Mr. Dixon, but I believe there may be an unfortunate compounding factor.”
The room grew silent in anticipation.
Johnson exchanged a grim look with Todd before addressing Frederick. “Our department doesn’t have anyone by the name of Officer Clark.”
Chapter 4
No wonder Officer Clark looked so suspicious.
Hewassuspicious.
In truth, Grace ought to have pieced it together herself. She was easily the most well-read on matters of detective work among everyone present—though Frederick had made remarkable strides in that genre since their marriage.
“Mr. Todd, could we have Officer Davis return to the station and gather men to remove the body, please?” Detective Johnson’s voice cut through the room as he nodded toward Lillias. “I feel certain it would provide some small comfort to Mrs. Dixon.”
Lillias released another whimper, and Grace moved back to her side, putting an arm around her shoulders. It was an odd thing as the younger daughter, to feel a sudden sense of protection over one’s elder sibling, but this moment, not to mention the way things had changed between them since her wedding, shifted something inside Grace.
She hadn’t much considered her role in the Ferguson family since marrying Frederick. Between their whirlwind romance, the adventures that followed, and the many attempts to keep themselves alive, personal reflection had hardly been a priority. And she hadn’t even seen her sister in seven months to remind her of making any comparisons. Yet sitting here now, beside Lillias, Grace felt a curious blend of familiarity and estrangement settle over her. They were the same sisters as they’d always been.
