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‘violent end’. I’m going to have to dig deeper.” Daniel
wasn’t happy about this development.
    “So she might actually be right,” Simon voiced Daniel’s own
thoughts. “They might really be trying to kill her, if they’ve done that sort
of thing before.”
    “They’ve never been implicated,” Daniel argued. “No one can
trace the deaths to the Ashburys.”
    “Come now,” Simon chastised. “You have never been a believer
in coincidence. If it was one competitor, maybe even two. How many are we
talking about?”
    “More than two,” Daniel conceded.
    “Hmm,” was Simon’s noncommittal reply.
    “All right, fine,” Daniel gave in belligerently. “They might
actually be trying to kill her.”
    “None of it is her fault, you know,” Simon said softly.
    “I’m not blaming her,” Daniel snapped, yanking his leg down
and spinning away. He began to walk briskly down the sidewalk. Simon ran to
catch up.
    “We should have done this years ago,” Simon said, matching
his strides to Daniel’s.
    “Done what?” Daniel wasn’t in the mood for Simon’s word
games today.
    “Looked into Harry’s family and what happened to him.”
    That made Daniel stop and confront him. “Why? What possible
reason could I have had to do that?”
    Simon sighed and looked away. “Because he’s not dead to you,
no matter how you try to act like he is. Perhaps this would have closed that
chapter. Perhaps finding out about his wife would have done the trick.” He
turned back. “Has it?”
    “What utter rubbish,” Daniel scoffed. “’Closed that chapter’
indeed. And I know he isn’t dead. I’ve always known that. But he might as well
have been. He made his choice and I made mine. My choice was to let him go and
move on. I’ve moved on.” To illustrate his point he turned and began walking
again, this time at a sedate pace.
    “And she’s pulling you back.”
    Daniel stopped abruptly at Simon’s observation. “Yes she is.
And I have no desire to revisit that place and time again.” He spun back around
to face Simon. “Yes, that’s it. She is to blame. You say she isn’t, I say she
is. She’s the one who couldn’t keep her damn legs closed. If she hadn’t gotten
herself impregnated—by a coachman of all people—I wouldn’t be here on the
rotting docks trying to find out if Harry’s family are the murdering thugs I
believe them to be.” He paused to take a breath.
    “I will refrain from pummeling you in your disrespectful
mouth because I understand that your broken heart is speaking and not your
common sense,” Simon ground out between clenched teeth. “Her goddamn
husband—and I use the term loosely—ran off on her. She’s been alone for ten
damn years. I hardly think one indiscretion is enough to paint her in the
whorish light you just have.”
    Daniel was immediately contrite. He of all people should not
throw stones. His entire house was made of glass. He knew very well his own
behavior the last ten years since Harry’s desertion had been whorish in the
extreme. He dropped his head back and stared blindly at the blue sky. “You’re
right,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He looked at Simon then, meeting his gaze
straight on. “And it was one indiscretion, I believe. I don’t think she was
lying about that.”
    “No, I don’t think so either,” Simon agreed. “Not based on
her lack of kissing experience.”
    “Just don’t be trying to give her more experience,” Daniel
told him with a smile. “I’m not sure she could weather that storm.” With
another sigh he delivered the dreaded news. “I’m afraid she’ll have to stay
until I can find Harry and bring his worthless hide home. He caused this mess
and he can clean it up.”
    Suddenly a man stepped out of an alley in front of them.
“What have we here?” he asked with an accent straight out of one of London’s
rookeries. “I don’t think you belong here.” He was dressed in shabby genteel
clothes, what he must think