Cloche and Dagger Read online

  I switched off the TV and wandered into Viv’s room. I had stood aside while the inspectors checked through her things. I had felt awkward about it, especially when they went through her underwear drawer. How mortifying.

  Franks, the veteran, had been stoic, but Simms, the younger of the two, had turned the bright red of a traffic light, making me think his internal system was giving him the signal to stop and only sheer force of will was making him override it.

  Viv’s room was done in restful shades of pale blue with white trim and neat, sheer curtains over the windows. Everything was neatly put away and tidied up, not at all like Viv had been when she was younger. She used to walk into a room and explode, jacket one way and shoes another, and she never picked up.

  No, this was a grown-up’s room, and I longed for the days when her room was across the hall from mine and we spent all evening running back and forth until Mim finally yelled at us to settle in.

  Although the good inspectors had spent quite a bit of time in here, they didn’t know Viv as well as I did. She was flighty, but she was also sentimental. I went over to her bookcase and began to search through the books crammed onto the shelves. Many of them were Mim’s from when this room was hers, but Viv had added her own.

  I found what I was looking for on the bottom shelf: Viv’s scrapbook from her years at the university. I flipped through the pages of the handmade album. Viv had been an art major with an emphasis in fashion. She had hoped to go right into hat-making with Mim, but Aunt Grace wanted her to have a full education just in case she ever decided to do anything else with her life.

  Reluctantly, Viv had agreed. The pages were full of fashion shows held at the university. Viv, now twenty-nine, looked so much younger in the photos. I couldn’t help smiling at a shot of her surrounded by her models at one of her shows. I didn’t see anyone resembling Lord Ellis or Lady Ellis in the photos.

  Viv and I had the same blue eyes, large and round, but where I had gotten the stick-straight red hair of my father’s side of the family, Viv had gotten the blond curls that both of our mothers had inherited from Mim. I used to be insanely jealous of that hair, which hung halfway down her back and seemed to lure the boys in like a creeper vine twining about them and imprisoning them in her aura, but then one day, Viv confessed that she wished she had my hair. I told her I’d gladly trade.

  It was a revelation that this girl, whom I looked up to and admired, might prefer something that was inherently me. I never felt jealous again, and I was forever grateful that Viv had made me see myself through her eyes.

  A yawn snuck up and punched me in the kisser, making me open my mouth so wide I heard my jaw crack. I put the scrapbook away. I saw nothing in there that answered any of my questions, and I was so tired, I didn’t think I could concentrate much longer anyway.

  Maybe it was seeing the body today that had me spooked, but I left a light on in the kitchen as I went up the stairs to my intensely pink room. I didn’t want to wake up in complete darkness and be freaked out.

  Crawling into bed, I missed the sound of the rain on the window glass from a few nights before. It would have been nice to have it drum me to sleep. I was sure I would toss and turn all night, but just like the yawn that had sucker punched me, sleep took me down for the count before I even made one toss and no turns.

  I’m not a dreamer, generally, and when I do dream I never remember them in the morning. But this dream was different. It was so vivid. The pain I felt in my chest was so intense. I was wearing the aqua cloche, I was naked, and the searing ache in my lungs made me glance down and see that I had a knife sticking out from my rib cage. I looked at my hands in horror. They were covered in blood.

  A panicked part of my brain kept signaling that this was a dream and that I needed to wake up—now! I felt weak, so weak, I was falling to the floor. I could feel myself slipping deeper into the blackness, but again a tiny part of me insisted that I wake up.

  I put my hands up and that’s when I realized there was a pillow on my face. I hadn’t been stabbed and I wasn’t dreaming. Someone was trying to suffocate me and my lungs were in agony from lack of oxygen! With the last of my strength, I got one foot out from under my covers and kicked as hard as I could. My knee connected with the solid weight of a person, knocking them off balance.

  The pillow’s grip on my face lessened and I smacked it off, taking whoever had been holding it down on me with it. I sat up and sucked in sweet, beautiful air in great gulping gasps as if there would never be enough to inflate my lungs, which had surely been on the verge of being flattened forever.

  Before I could register in my oxygen-deprived brain what had just happened, there was a scuttling noise and I saw a person, dressed all in black, disappear from my room. I tried to give chase, really, I did, but my legs were like jelly and I was still sucking in air. My chest burned.

  I fumbled for my cell phone on the nightstand and scrolled through my contacts, choosing the name I had typed in most recently. Despite the early morning hour, Harrison answered on the second ring.

  He didn’t even get a chance to speak before I blurted out, ‘Help! Someone just tried to kill me.’

  Chapter 25

  Okay, I can admit it. One part of me called him to see if he was breathing heavily as if he’d just tried to smother someone and was making a run for it. Did I really think he was my assailant? No, but I wanted to be sure.

  ‘What?’ he cried.

  I could hear the rustle of bedsheets as if he was moving into a sitting position. This reassured me as nothing else could have.

  ‘Pillow over my face,’ I said. ‘They’re gone now, I think.’

  ‘Call the police!’ he barked. ‘Then call me right back. I’m on my way.’ He hung up.

  Call the police. Call the police. My sleep-soaked, terrified brain couldn’t quite register the words. I stared at my phone.

  I was pretty sure it wasn’t 9-1-1. In fact, I remember Mim drilling 9-9-9 into my head, but that was for emergencies. Was this an emergency? I didn’t want to get into trouble, or should I say more trouble?

  My phone started to chime. I noted the number was Harrison’s.

  ‘Hello?’ I answered.

  ‘Why didn’t you call me back?’ he asked.

  ‘I haven’t even called the police yet,’ I said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t want to get into trouble,’ I said. ‘With Viv missing and the Lady Ellis situation…’

  My voice trailed off and I could hear his exasperation almost as loudly as I could hear his huffing and puffing.

  ‘Scarlett,’ he said. ‘Someone broke into your shop and your house. They tried to kill you. Now you have to call the police. They have to investigate.’

  ‘I suppose,’ I said. ‘Can I do it when you get here?’

  There was a beat of silence, and I wondered if he was going to hang up on me after demanding that I call the police again. To my surprise, he didn’t.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  His voice was surprisingly gentle with concern, and for some reason it made my throat close up and I had to swallow hard before I could answer.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said. Now if English girls are anything like American girls, Harrison would know that ‘fine’ means anything but fine. And in my case, at the present moment, it meant I was on the verge of hysterics.

  ‘Breathe,’ he said. ‘Come on, you can do it. A nice big breath and hold it. Now let it all the way out nice and slow.’

  I did as I was told, realizing that English women and the word ‘fine’ must be compatible with the American female usage. Either that or my voice was clearly borderline hysterical.

  ‘Do it again,’ he said. He waited while I exhaled. ‘Excellent, are you better now?’

  ‘A little,’ I said, feeling for the first time like I might not pass out.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Do you hear anything? Do you think your attacker might still be there?’

  ‘Hang on,’ I s
aid. ‘I’ll check.’

  ‘No!’ He shouted and I had to hold my phone away from my ear.

  ‘Easy,’ I said. ‘I’m not deaf.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘But don’t leave your room. You don’t know if it’s safe.’

  ‘Oh, I’m betting even my neighbors heard that yell of yours in their sleep. I’m sure it’s safe now.’

  ‘Scarlett!’ He was clearly exasperated.

  ‘Relax,’ I said. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  Which was a lie. I climbed off the bed and stood on legs that, while still shaky, managed to keep me upright. I crept toward the door.

  ‘Scarlett, what are you doing?’ he asked.

  ‘Listening like you told me to,’ I said. ‘Now shh.’

  I lowered the phone so I could use both of my ears to hear. I crept up to the door. My heart started to pound in my chest. I peered around the doorjamb and noted that the light I’d left on below was still on.

  It cast faint shadows up the staircase and my eyes darted about, trying to assess what was shadow and what could be crazy-bad-person, lurking in the dark. Now my palms were sweating and my breathing was coming faster.

  ‘Scarlett!’ I could hear Harrison calling me so I pressed my phone against my belly to muffle the sound. How could I hear when he was making such a racket?

  All was quiet and still in the hallway. I could just see across into Viv’s old room. I wondered if I should go in there to check it out. It seemed unlikely, but how stupid would I feel if I trotted on downstairs and the person who tried to smother me came trotting down after me?

  I lifted up the phone and said, ‘It’s very quiet. I’m going to check Viv’s old room.’

  I swiftly lowered the phone as Harrison started to protest quite loudly. The man obviously had no sense of stealth. It took some nerve-building on my part but I finally stepped out of my room. I braced myself for someone to jump out of the darkness and attack, but nothing happened.

  I crept across the landing and eased my way into Viv’s old room. The light from below didn’t cast enough light in this room for me to see, so I quickly switched on the overhead lamp. I scanned the room. It was a generic guest bedroom now. And no, no looming bad guy lurked in the corners or under the bed or the closet.

  I turned to leave, again pausing in the door to check the landing before venturing forward. Nothing.

  I eased my way to the bathroom door. It was closed, so I gingerly pushed it open. It was empty, but I had to check the shower. It had a pale yellow curtain drawn across it, the perfect place for a would-be killer to hide before round two. I curled my fingers around the vinyl and quickly yanked it back, snapping off a few of its plastic rings with the force of my tug. Oops!

  It was empty. No one was there but still, years of horror films had me on high alert and my heart slammed down into my belly as I registered the fact that no one was there. I felt myself go limp with relief.

  I was just raising the phone back up to my ear when a heavy hand landed on my shoulder.

  Chapter 26

  ‘Ah!’ I screamed as my body went rigid with fright. Then I spun around with my phone in my fist, determined to take my attacker down.

  ‘Whoa!’ I heard a yell as the person I was aiming for ducked to avoid the blow.

  I went to snap kick him, but found myself snatched around the waist and dragged out the door into the landing before my foot could connect.

  My back was pinned to someone else’s front and I was wriggling and kicking and clawing for all I was worth.

  ‘Harrison!’ I yelled, hoping my phone was still on where I had dropped it in the scuffle. ‘He’s got me! Hurry!’

  ‘Scarlett, it’s me!’ a voice shouted in my ear. ‘Stop! Do not bite me!’

  I had grabbed his hand and was just about to sink my teeth in when I recognized the voice. I whipped my head around and we were face-to-face, with me in Harrison’s arms, dangling off the ground as he held me in the air as if it were no effort at all.

  ‘Are you insane?’ I snapped. Now I wanted to hit him even more, so I did, a solid punch to the arm, causing him to drop me. ‘You could have said something, you know, instead of scaring the snot out of me.’

  ‘Silly me,’ he said. ‘I was trying to be quiet in case anyone was still here.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. I supposed he was right, but I didn’t have to admit it.

  Of course, now I realized with a flush of embarrassment that I was standing in the dark in just my pajamas with a man I wasn’t sure I trusted. I picked up my phone and crossed my arms over my chest.

  ‘How did you get in?’

  ‘The back door was wide open,’ he said.

  I frowned.

  ‘Someone took the lock right off of it,’ he explained.

  ‘While I was sleeping?’

  He just looked at me without saying anything.

  ‘Sorry, stupid question,’ I said. ‘I’m still trying to process.’

  ‘Let’s call Inspector Franks,’ he said. ‘I think the immediate danger is over, but I’m sure he’ll want to know about what’s happened.’

  ‘Do you think this has something to do with Viv being missing?’ I asked as I followed him down the stairs without touching the railing.

  ‘More likely it has something to do with Lady Ellis,’ he said. He paused at the bottom of the steps and looked up at me. ‘They tried to kill you. Why?’

  My mouth went dry and I felt a little woozy.

  ‘Blunt much?’ I asked. I chose to turn my upset into snippiness. It’s a self-defense mechanism. I know this and yet I can’t help it.

  ‘Sorry, that was rather tactless of me,’ he said. ‘I don’t know that there’s any way I could sugarcoat what happened here though.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose having someone take off an entire lock to get inside a building where they then hold a pillow over the face of the only other person in the building lends itself to a kinder or gentler description than attempted murder.’

  ‘You sound a wee bit hysterical,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, I can assure you, it’s more than a wee bit,’ I said.

  I followed him through the second floor to the stairs that led below to the shop. He had his phone out and was calling in the break-in, and the attempted murder, as we went. Whomever he was talking with sounded irate, as if they didn’t like having their sleep interrupted by my problem. So sorry, next time I’ll try to reschedule my suffocation to a more suitable hour. Yes, still snippy.

  I flipped on the light switch, bathing the shop in the reassuring brightness of electricity. I felt my shoulders drop down from around my ears. I scanned the room. No one was here.

  ‘Thank you, Inspector,’ Harrison said. He leaned close to me and said, ‘Don’t touch anything.’

  I glared. As if I would. I’d watched CSI. I knew better than to tamper with the evidence.

  I went to one of the sitting areas and very carefully sat down on the edge of the couch. I sincerely doubted that the person who’d tried to kill me would have left any trace of evidence in the sitting area. It wasn’t like they were here to have tea, after all.

  Harrison closed his phone and joined me. I could feel him studying my face, but I was ignoring him. I was trying very hard not to feel sorry for myself and I was failing miserably.

  The whole point of coming to England and working in the shop was to take my mind off the disaster I had left behind, the rat bastard, his beautiful wife, and my oh-so-public humiliation. In that regard, mission accomplished.

  However, I did not like not knowing where my cousin was and that no one, save me, seemed overly concerned about her. I did not like finding clients murdered. And I most definitely did not like waking up to find someone trying to smother me.

  A tiny sob bubbled up in my throat. I tried to swallow it down, but it escaped and echoed in the silence of the shop.

  Harrison narrowed his eyes at me. I tried to make my face blank, but his eyes grew even narrower until they were mere green slits.r />
  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  ‘Fine,’ I lied.

  A commotion at the front door brought our attention around to it. Through the glass I could see Inspectors Franks and Simms, and I was relieved to get up and let them in and escape Harrison’s all-knowing look. Sympathy at this point would just make me blubber.

  I used the edge of my shirt to open the door. I could hear Harrison moving to stand behind me. Despite our differences, it was comforting to have him at my back as I had no idea how the inspectors were going to view this situation.

  ‘Morning, Ms. Parker,’ Inspector Franks said. He looked grave. ‘I’m afraid we’ll need you to come to the station with us.’

  Chapter 27

  ‘What?!’ I cried. Harrison muttered something even less kind beneath his breath.

  ‘We’ll need your fingerprints to differentiate them from your assailant’s, assuming they left any behind,’ he said.

  ‘Surely that can wait until after the sun is up,’ Harrison said.

  Franks opened his mouth to answer but Simms interrupted. ‘It was the back door that they entered through?’

  I nodded.

  ‘I’ll start back there,’ Simms said and he disappeared into the workroom.

  ‘Have you checked to see if anything is missing?’ Franks asked.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I was afraid to touch anything.’

  Franks nodded his approval; then he turned and studied Harrison.

  ‘When did you get here?’ he asked.

  There was no innuendo in his voice, but I heard the unstated speculation about the relationship between Harrison and myself. I felt my face get hot and cursed my fair skin.

  Thankfully, neither of them looked at me and I was able to wrestle my composure back unobserved.

  ‘Not long after Scarlett called me,’ Harrison said. ‘Since I live over in Pembridge Mews, I got here pretty quickly. Besides, she doesn’t know anyone else, do you?’