Read Online A Golden Cage by Shelley Freydont - Free Book Online Page A

that Deanna could hear the search party outside the windows. “You don’t think she killed Charlie, do you?”

Chapter
5
    D eanna had known better than to ask that question. She knew Will wasn’t at liberty to say even if he had formed an opinion. But as far as Deanna could see, Amabelle had either killed her friend then fled, or conspired with someone to kill him and had fled. Or she had seen who had killed him and was either dead at the villain’s hand or had run, afraid that the murderer would be coming after her.
    Any way you looked at it, it didn’t look good for Amabelle.
    â€œWe won’t be able to make any statements until we have further information,” Will said, looking into the middle space between them.
    He wouldn’t even look at her. Because he didn’t want her butting in or because he thought Amabelle was guilty?
    â€œDoes anyone have anything to add?”
    Deanna had plenty to ask. Like had he noticed the heels of poor Charlie’s shoes? Or the blades of newly cut grass on his trouser leg?
    She could picture the scene in her mind. It was something she’d learned from her drawing lessons, out of necessity, because someone was always eating the fruit from her still lifes before she finished her picture. She knew she couldn’t see anything that the photographer couldn’t see. Still . . .
    Deanna looked around the table. No one else had anything to say. Good. She couldn’t wait to get away from this. As soon as she got upstairs, she’d make her own sketch of poor Charlie. She was about to ask to be excused when Joe said, “I suppose I do.”
    Joe rose from his seat and strode toward the window. “Mother wasn’t the only one who offered her an invitation to Bonheur last night.”
    If Deanna thought it had been quiet before, the silence now was smothering. She tried not to look at Joe, standing at the window, his back to the room.
    He had everyone’s attention.
    â€œHow’s this?” Mr. Ballard asked.
    â€œWhen did you see Amabelle?” his mother asked. “I didn’t think you remembered her. It’s been a year or two since we’ve seen the Deekses.”
    â€œSon.”
    Deanna’s head snapped back from Joe to his father, which was the only reason she saw Mr. Ballard’s reaction, the minute quirk of the head, the lift of the eyebrow.
    Joe turned slowly to face the room. Deanna swallowed. She hoped this wasn’t going to turn into one of those things young ladies shouldn’t know about.
    Fortunately the gonging of the hall wall clock, and the subsequent echo of the other clocks throughout the room, prevented the conversation from continuing.
    â€œDeanna?” Gran Gwen said once it was quiet again. “Aren’t you meeting your cycling group this morning?”
    Her cycling group. She’d forgotten all about it. But if she went, she wouldn’t hear what Joe had to say, though from everyone’s reaction, it might be better if she did leave. But would it be disrespectful to the dead to go and enjoy herself?
    â€œYes. You don’t want to miss that,” Laurette said, glancing at Joe.
    Her better judgment told Deanna it would be smart to leave now that she had the chance. Curiosity told her to stand her ground. For once better judgment won out. If Joe had been carrying on in ways that weren’t exactly proper, she didn’t want to know.
    She assuaged her curiosity by telling herself that Elspeth, who had been sent with the other servants to search the house for Amabelle, would be full of news from the search.
    â€œI believe that’s all I need from you at the moment. You’ve been most helpful.”
    Will was addressing Deanna, but he was looking somewhere past her shoulder. She had an overwhelming desire to turn and look, but she knew it was just a wall. Why wouldn’t he look at her?
    And suddenly she didn’t feel like she could meet any