a spider, much less kill a man.”
“I don’t know. He’s quite protective of Gertie and the twins.”
“Whoever hit Ian took the candlestick from the hallstand. Clive was in the kitchen. I think Gertie would have seen a candlestick in his hand, and I hardly think he dragged Ian into the hotel to get the candlestick to hit him, do you?”
Baxter’s frown cleared. “Does seem a bit far-fetched. Then again, who else would want to kill Rossiter? He hasn’t lived here in years. He doesn’t know anyone here.”
“He knows just about everyone who works here. Or…” She paused, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
“Or what?”
Cecily looked up, meeting her husband’s concerned gaze. “Perhaps he fell into bad company when he moved down here. His wife did say she didn’t like the company he kept.”
Baxter stared at her. “His
Cecily took a deep breath, then spoke in a rush to get the words out. “Right here in the hotel. She came looking for Ian. I had to tell her he’d died. She was so upset, she had nowhere to go and I felt so sorry for her, I offered her a room here until she can get settled somewhere else.” Running out of breath, she braced herself, waiting for her husband’s wrath to explode once more.
To her surprise, after a moment’s tense silence, Baxter said quietly, “That might have been a mistake.”
“Yes,” Cecily said slowly, “I realize that now. I just hope she doesn’t cause Gertie any trouble.”
“She has no cause to be angry with Gertie. After all, Gertie had no idea Ian was already married to someone else when she married him.”
“Maybe not, but I do think that Gloria blames her all the same.”
Baxter grunted. “Well, Ian’s gone. The problem is, now that you’ve offered his widow free room and board, she is likely to take advantage of it and you might never be rid of her.”
“In that case, I shall ask her politely to leave.”
Baxter smiled. “That, my dear, would be quite remarkable indeed.”
“Piffle.” She returned his smile, but couldn’t quite banish the uneasy feeling under her ribs. She didn’t feel comfortable with Ian’s widow in the hotel, and she wished now she hadn’t been quite so accommodating with her. But she wasn’t sure exactly why it bothered her. It could be because of Ian’s attempted kidnaping of his daughter, though it didn’t seem likely that Gloria would want to steal either of the twins away, now that Ian was no longer alive.
Whatever the reason for her apprehension, she would have to make sure to keep an eye on Gloria Johnson. With any luck, the woman would soon find other accommodations and leave them in peace. For until she did so, the memory of Ian Rossiter would hang over their heads and be a constant reminder that another murder had been committed, and that his killer was still on the loose.
CHAPTER 9
“I do love riding in this motorcar.” Gertie snuggled back in the soft leather seat and drew the collar of her wool coat closer around her neck. “It makes me feel like royalty. I want to wave at everyone as we go by.”
Seated next to her behind the huge steering wheel, Dan chuckled. “Go ahead and wave. I’m sure they’ll all wave back.”
“Nah. They’ll just think I’m showing off.” She ran a finger along the walnut dashboard. “It’s a real pretty motorcar, though. I see lots of people looking at it as we drive down the street.”
“These Austins are well built.” Dan patted the steering wheel. “It can go sixteen miles an hour downhill. Maybe even faster on a long slope.”
Gertie gasped. “That sounds really fast.”
Dan nodded. “They are building bigger and better motors all the time. I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see a motorcar going twenty-five, thirty miles an hour in a year or two.”
“Blimey, that’s dangerous. What happens when you cross the road and one’s coming at you? Like what happened to you yesterday. You wouldn’t have time to get out the bloody way, would you.”
“You’d have to keep a sharp lookout for them, that’s all. Just like you do horses.”
Gertie thought about that. “I dunno. I think I’d rather dodge horses than motorcars. I don’t know what the world’s coming to, what with all this new stuff going on. I heard some blokes talking the other day about someone in America making a machine that can fly off the ground.” She shook her head. “Can you imagine that?”
“The Wright brothers.” Dan did something with a stick near his knees and the car jerked, sending Gertie lurching forward. “They say one day they will build a machine that will fly them all the way across the country.”
Gertie found that hard to believe, but not wanting to seem ignorant, she refrained from saying so. “Well, I’d rather go out in this motorcar than in a flying machine any day. I like to feel the ground under me.”
Dan grinned. “I can’t say I blame you.”
Remembering something, Gertie sat upright. “I thought you said you got hit by another motorcar last night.”
“No, I said I swerved to avoid getting hit.”
“But I thought you said you got bumped and that’s how you hurt your face.”
Dan sighed. “Maybe I did.”
“So where is the dent in the motorcar? Is it a bad one? I didn’t see it when I got in. Will it cost a lot to mend it? How-”
“Gertie!” He sounded irritable and she snapped her mouth shut. “It was just a light scratch. I rubbed it out with some polish so you can’t see it.”
“Sorry.”
She’d mumbled the word and he was quick to make amends. Reaching for her hand he gave it a light squeeze. “Never mind, luv. It was nothing, honest. Tell me about the carol singing at the hotel. Will you be able to go?”
“I hope so.” She stole a quick glance at him and was relieved to see his jaw relaxed again. “Will you come if I can go?”
“Will it be all right with Mrs. Baxter?”
“Course it would. You haven’t seen the decorations yet, have you. Miss Pengrath does a lovely job with them. Oh, I mean Mrs. Prestwick. I keep forgetting she’s married now.”
If she’d hoped the subject of marriage might start a conversation about their own relationship she was soon disappointed.
“If she did half as well as she did last year with the decorations,” Dan said, bringing the motorcar to a halt, “it’s bound to look fantastic. She really does make it look good. In fact, the windows were lit up so bright last night I thought the hotel was on fire, until I realized it was candles on a Christmas tree. Must have been dozens of them.” He shut off the engine and the motor shuddered into silence.
Glancing out the window, Gertie saw that they were in the courtyard of the George and Dragon. On either side carriages were lined up one behind the other, while the horses were gathered in a pen in the field beyond.
Light flowed from the lattice windows of the pub, and the sound of laughter echoed into the night. The tinkling notes of an out of tune piano could be heard above the chatter, and someone was singing with great gusto and painfully off-key.
It all sounded so festive, and she felt a stir of excitement. Thank goodness she’d told Dan earlier about Ian. He’d been shocked, as she’d expected, but he’d got over it really fast, and now they could put it behind them, at least for tonight.
She waited for Dan to open the door for her, then stepped out onto the pavement. This was the moment she loved, stepping down from the beautiful motorcar with Dan holding her hand like a prince escorting a princess.
That’s how he always made her feel. Like a princess. No one had ever made her feel that way before. No one had ever treated her the way Dan treated her. She could be really, really happy, if only he would say something about their future together. Even if she had to wait a year or two to get married. It was the not knowing that bothered her.
