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Authors: Alyssa Maxwell
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missed.”
“Suit yourself.” Dobbs headed for the door.
Jesse handed the murder weapon back to the policeman who had brought it in. “Bring this back to the station. I’ll be along later.”
“How you gonna get back, sir?”
Jesse glanced at me, and I nodded. “I’ll get back,” he told the officer. Then he nodded at Lady Amelia, bid Aunt Alva good day, glanced at me and gestured toward the door. “Emma, would you mind?”
We walked back out to the pavilion together.
“What do you hope to find?” I asked once we’d cleared the terrace steps. I felt eyes on our backs. Aunt Alva’s, no doubt, but I judged that we had gone beyond her hearing.
“I’m not sure. Maybe nothing. But I want you there all the same.”
I couldn’t help smiling and uttering a quiet, “Thank you.”
“This doesn’t mean I want you getting involved. Not in any active way. But . . .” He sighed. “I can’t deny that you’ve got the instincts of a real detective, Emma.”
“Not to mention the brains?” I couldn’t resist adding.
He nodded. “Yes, the brains, too. Absolutely.”
The pavilion came into view through the hedges and my steps began to drag. Jesse stopped a few feet ahead of me and looked back. He studied me a moment before saying, “I’m sorry, Emma. What was I thinking? You shouldn’t be out here.”
“No . . . no, it’s all right.” I drew a deep breath and strode to where he waited for me. “I want to help. I have to, Jesse.”
He smiled grimly. “Aunt Sadie?”
“In a way. She taught me to care about them. About everyone who has no voice. Girls like Clara. Like Katie, who used to work for my uncle Cornelius and lives with me now.”
“You really think Clara’s innocent?” We’d resumed walking again, side by side. Jesse offered me his arm, and I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow. We continued in companionable silence until we reached the pavilion steps.
At the top, I answered his question. “I don’t know for sure. It’s just a feeling I have. When I look at her, with that delicate frame and those huge eyes of hers, I just don’t see a murderer. Do you?”
“Oh, Emma, murderers look like all kinds of people. If recent events have taught you anything, it should be that.”
He referred to the case I’d helped solve, the murder my own brother had been accused of committing. In the end, the guilty party had been someone I’d never have suspected if I’d lived a thousand years. And yet, looking back, there had been signs....
I turned away from him to glance around the pavilion. The card table still occupied the space at the center of the floor, and the crystal ball caught the rays of sunlight slanting beneath the roof and sent them dancing on the ceiling, floor, and columns. The coins had been scooped up, the cards removed. A light scent of incense, though long extinguished, still permeated the air. Better that than the scent of death, I thought morbidly.
I walked farther in, then stopped and turned. “So, what are we looking for that we haven’t already noted?”
Jesse strode past me, circled the card table, and went to the far railing. He turned and stared at the pavilion entrance, then shifted his gaze closer, to the table. “Madame Devereaux sat there, waiting for Mrs. Vanderbilt and her guests. Tell me exactly what you saw, and what you think might have happened, Emma.”
“Well . . .” I studied the table for a moment, picturing the scene as it had been earlier. “Actually, Madame Devereaux might not have been sitting and waiting. It makes more sense that she was busy preparing. Lighting the candles, the incense, placing everything just so. The scene was set when we arrived.”
Jesse nodded. “Go on.”
“If she sat, my guess is it was because someone had come asking about their future.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because of the cards and the coins. It looked as if she’d been in the middle of reading a fortune. And because . . .” I fell
“Suit yourself.” Dobbs headed for the door.
Jesse handed the murder weapon back to the policeman who had brought it in. “Bring this back to the station. I’ll be along later.”
“How you gonna get back, sir?”
Jesse glanced at me, and I nodded. “I’ll get back,” he told the officer. Then he nodded at Lady Amelia, bid Aunt Alva good day, glanced at me and gestured toward the door. “Emma, would you mind?”
We walked back out to the pavilion together.
“What do you hope to find?” I asked once we’d cleared the terrace steps. I felt eyes on our backs. Aunt Alva’s, no doubt, but I judged that we had gone beyond her hearing.
“I’m not sure. Maybe nothing. But I want you there all the same.”
I couldn’t help smiling and uttering a quiet, “Thank you.”
“This doesn’t mean I want you getting involved. Not in any active way. But . . .” He sighed. “I can’t deny that you’ve got the instincts of a real detective, Emma.”
“Not to mention the brains?” I couldn’t resist adding.
He nodded. “Yes, the brains, too. Absolutely.”
The pavilion came into view through the hedges and my steps began to drag. Jesse stopped a few feet ahead of me and looked back. He studied me a moment before saying, “I’m sorry, Emma. What was I thinking? You shouldn’t be out here.”
“No . . . no, it’s all right.” I drew a deep breath and strode to where he waited for me. “I want to help. I have to, Jesse.”
He smiled grimly. “Aunt Sadie?”
“In a way. She taught me to care about them. About everyone who has no voice. Girls like Clara. Like Katie, who used to work for my uncle Cornelius and lives with me now.”
“You really think Clara’s innocent?” We’d resumed walking again, side by side. Jesse offered me his arm, and I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow. We continued in companionable silence until we reached the pavilion steps.
At the top, I answered his question. “I don’t know for sure. It’s just a feeling I have. When I look at her, with that delicate frame and those huge eyes of hers, I just don’t see a murderer. Do you?”
“Oh, Emma, murderers look like all kinds of people. If recent events have taught you anything, it should be that.”
He referred to the case I’d helped solve, the murder my own brother had been accused of committing. In the end, the guilty party had been someone I’d never have suspected if I’d lived a thousand years. And yet, looking back, there had been signs....
I turned away from him to glance around the pavilion. The card table still occupied the space at the center of the floor, and the crystal ball caught the rays of sunlight slanting beneath the roof and sent them dancing on the ceiling, floor, and columns. The coins had been scooped up, the cards removed. A light scent of incense, though long extinguished, still permeated the air. Better that than the scent of death, I thought morbidly.
I walked farther in, then stopped and turned. “So, what are we looking for that we haven’t already noted?”
Jesse strode past me, circled the card table, and went to the far railing. He turned and stared at the pavilion entrance, then shifted his gaze closer, to the table. “Madame Devereaux sat there, waiting for Mrs. Vanderbilt and her guests. Tell me exactly what you saw, and what you think might have happened, Emma.”
“Well . . .” I studied the table for a moment, picturing the scene as it had been earlier. “Actually, Madame Devereaux might not have been sitting and waiting. It makes more sense that she was busy preparing. Lighting the candles, the incense, placing everything just so. The scene was set when we arrived.”
Jesse nodded. “Go on.”
“If she sat, my guess is it was because someone had come asking about their future.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because of the cards and the coins. It looked as if she’d been in the middle of reading a fortune. And because . . .” I fell
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