Read Online Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahill 04] by Deadly Desire - Free Book Online Page B

vanished as she stared at the carefully folded white note that was tucked inside beside her tiny derringer, a candle, matches, a notepad, a lead pencil, some cash, and her calling cards.
    “Fran?”
    She inhaled and reached inside for a calling card. As she handed it to Lucy, she glanced at Bragg, consumed with fresh guilt.
    Why was she so afraid to tell him about the note? He was the most understanding man she knew.
    “Oh my,” Lucy said on a breath. She looked up. “What a wonderful calling card. I should be intrigued if I did not know you! I would hire you instantly, too.”
    “Thank you,” Francesca said, pleased.
    Bragg made a sound very much like a groan. “Francesca, I cannot prevent you from taking on Mrs. Channing as a client. But I can ask you not to do so.”
    She stared. The world seemed to have stopped turning in that moment. “Please do not.”
    He hesitated. “If I did, what would you say?”
    Her heart hurt her now. “I could not turn my back on a friend in need,” she managed, stricken. She added silently, Please, do not make me choose.
    “I see.” He turned away from her, but there was no mistaking his expression. It was resigned, hurt, angry, and somehow he had made her make a choice.
    She stared. How had their happiness dissolved so quickly?
Should she turn down Sarah and Mrs. Channing? But how could she! Sarah was grief-stricken. Someone, clearly, wanted to hurt her—someone was so angry! “This isn’t fair, Bragg,” she whispered, agonized, to his back.
    “Is life fair?” he asked darkly, whirling to stare at her.
    She thought about his wife. “No.”
    “You must do as you will, Francesca. I do not control you, nor do I wish to,” he said.
    But he was angry, displeased. Francesca did not know what to do now. “I cannot bear it when I have so upset you,” she said softly, in that moment forgetting that they were not alone.
    He then sighed as if resigned to the inevitable and looked at his sister. “I have appointments all afternoon. And as you can see, a matter has cropped up which I should personally attend. I am afraid that lunch is not a possibility.”
    “I understand,” Lucy said softly. Then, “Do not be too hard on Fran, Rick. She is an extraordinary woman. You should be proud of her.”
    His jaw flexed. Clearly he felt that the cat was out of the bag with his sister, for he said, “I am proud of her.” He turned to Francesca, and he remained unsmiling. “I am going over there now, but in an unofficial capacity. I do not have time right now for another investigation, unless the situation is dire.” Their eyes held and she knew he was thinking about the Cross Murders. That had been dire indeed. “Then I shall speak with Inspector O’Connor.”
    Francesca wasn’t pleased with the sound of that. She so wanted to work with Bragg again on this investigation. “Shall I tell you what I have thus far learned?”
    He finally smiled, taking his greatcoat off of a wall peg. “Actually, I was going to offer you a lift to wherever it is that you are going. You can tell me what you have discovered as we ride uptown.” His regard was once again affectionate. “For I have little doubt you already have a lead or two.”
    She moved to him and touched his hand. “Thank you, Bragg.” Then she turned. “I will accept your lunch invitation,” she said.

    Their eyes met. Lucy understood, and her expression was amazingly innocent. “How wonderful,” she said.
     
    “Where is Peter?” Francesca asked as Bragg drove carefully through the traffic heading uptown on Sixth Avenue. An elevated train thundered past one avenue over as they crept forward, jammed between two omnibuses and a trolley.
    “At the house.” Bragg looked at her. “The nanny whom your mother found is Mrs. Flowers, and unfortunately, she wears the most absurd and oversize flowers on her hat. That gave me the instant impression that she is rather silly and would be generally ineffective and useless. I asked