Page 11 of Betrayal from Beyond
“Kara?”
“Niall,” she said in relief.
He heard it in her tone and came quickly. He searched her face and then noticed the opened box. He only looked puzzled—but then understanding flashed. “Are those—”
“Yes.”
“From—”
“Yes.” Fear and resentment rose within her. They mingled to make her feel physically ill. But she straightened her back and pushed them aside with a wave of determination. “I think we had better call Wooten.”
The door creaked again, and they both spun to face it.
“Here you both are.” Turner sounded as relieved as she felt. “You are needed in the main house. Inspector Wooten has arrived.”
*
The inspector sighedand held up a hand. Wooten was a familiar figure. A tall man with a kind face and unusually long arms, he had been helpful when Kara was wrongly accused of a murder that took place at the Great Exhibition. Niall liked the man. They had worked with him on and off since then. Right now he wore an expression of slight exasperation that they had pulled from him more than once before.
“Hold just a moment.” Reaching into his pocket, the inspector pulled out the notebook they had seen him use numerous times on other cases. “You tell me what has put you both in a tizzy, then I will share my news.”
“Oh dear. Our apologies, Inspector Wooten,” Kara said, contrite. “We’ve set upon you with barely a civil greeting. It is good to see you again, sir. I see Turner has made sure you have tea.”
“I’ve sent for a tray of crumpets as well, Your Grace,” Turner said.
Hang the tea and crumpets.Niall wanted to shout it. Petra Scot was back, and he had a cold knot of dread sitting in his chest.
Wooten sat poised, waiting.
“Petra Scot.” Kara drew a deep breath. “She’s been here. At Bluefield.”
“What?” A gasp came from the parlor door, where Gyda stood, with Stayme trying to push past her.
“Come in, come in.” Niall beckoned them. “We are all in this up to our necks, and it will save time trying to repeat everything later.” He knew he sounded irritable, but it was nothing to how he felt.
“It started yesterday, with Stayme.” He nodded as the viscount took the armchair by the fire. “Tell them.”
Stayme told his tale with dramatic flourish. Wooten, used to the old man, merely let him go on, taking notes all the while. He asked a couple of questions, then turned to Kara. “Now, tell me about this morning.”
“Last night,” Kara corrected him. “Niall, tell him about the gate.”
Niall explained. Wooten made notes again.
Kara took up the tale. “Then, this morning, I went to my lab and found a box of butter biscuits waiting for me on the table.”
Gyda grasped the significance even faster than Niall had. “Not from Eliassen’s?”
Kara nodded, and Gyda looked grim.
“It wasn’t you who left them there?” Wooten looked to Turner, who shook his head. “Or the cook?”
“No one from our staff has been in the lab since the duke and duchess departed on their trip,” the butler assured him.
“The biscuits are significant because they came from Eliassen’s Bakery, where I first met Petra face to face,” Kara told the inspector. “She tried them on my recommendation.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “And on the night that she was captured, I arrived at her lair with a box of them to leave as a calling card.”
“You mean, before all hell broke loose and you burned the place down and dismantled her entire organization,” Wooten said dryly.
Kara shrugged.
