while I’m on vacation.”
“Oh, I thought you said you would give it to me.”
“Ah, yes, I did. I forgot.” He coughed. “If you will excuse me-”
“You are not in the business of selling remedies, are you, Mr. Parker.”
Archie sent a hunted look over his shoulder. “Mrs. B., I assure you-”
“One more thing.” She paused just long enough to make sure no one else was within earshot. The group near the stairs had dispersed, most likely having retired to their rooms. “I’m curious to know how you knew that the murder weapon was a candlestick, and taken from the hallstand.”
All the air seemed to rush out of Archie’s lungs. He stared at her, his face set in stone, with not even a quiver from his nose. A subtle change seemed to come over him. He actually seemed taller, formidable, and just a little threatening.
It suddenly occurred to Cecily that she was in a vulnerable position. There was no one in the foyer now. Even Philip had disappeared from behind the desk, no doubt enjoying a late lunch. Most of the guests would now be taking an afternoon siesta in their rooms, or perhaps finishing off their Christmas shopping.
She was alone with a potential killer, and completely at his mercy.
Still huddled on the steps, Gertie raised her head as laughter echoed along the cellar’s damp walls. Her arms felt stiff with cold, and she stretched out her legs, wincing as a cramp knotted her calf.
It was only then that she realized she still had Dan’s coat around her shoulders. A tiny stab of hope lifted her chin. She would have to see him at least one more time. Maybe she could set things straight with him after all. Maybe her Christmas wouldn’t have to be the heartache she’d envisioned.
Slowly she got to her feet and stamped them to get the circulation going again. Dan must be freezing out there without his coat. Then again, he could still be in the kitchen, waiting for her to come back in before he went home.
Galvanized into action, she grabbed the lamp from the wall, turned down the wick, and leapt up the stairs in the dark. Hitting the door with her shoulder, she shoved it open, then hung the lamp on its hook.
The mist was rolling in again from the sea as she crossed the yard, and she hugged the coat closer to her. Dan had to be waiting for her in the kitchen. He just had to be.
She was almost at the kitchen door when someone stepped out in front of her, frightening her out of her wits. In that first instant her heart leapt in the hopes it was Dan, but it was Sid Barrett who stood there grinning at her.
In no mood for his nonsense, she shoved him aside, but he held out his arms, blocking her way.
“What’s yer hurry, beautiful?”
Outraged, she tried to push him aside. “Out of my way, you rotten sod, or I’ll tell madam what a bully you are. She doesn’t like bullies and nor do I.”
“I just want to talk to you a minute, that’s all.” He lowered his arms but held his ground. “I know you must be missing a man’s attention, now that your husband is gone.”
She stared at him, disturbed by the gleam in his eyes. “No I don’t, so there. I told you I have a boyfriend.”
“Oh, you do, do you. Does he spoil you, then? Give you jewels and things?”
She tried to tug her arm free but he held on. “That’s none of your business what he does.”
“I bet your husband spoiled you, didn’t he. I bet he gave you lots of pretty things.”
“You leave Ross out of this. You have no business talking to me about him.”
Sid shook his head. “I’m not talking about him. I meant your dead husband, Ian Rossiter.”
Gertie puffed out her breath. “I keep telling you, he was never my husband. Go and ask his real wife if you want to know anything about him.”
An odd expression crossed Sid’s face. “I thought you were his real wife.”
He let go of her and stepped back. Rubbing her arm, she glared at him. “I told you, I never was his wife. His real wife is Gloria Johnson. She’s staying right here at the Pennyfoot. Why don’t you bleeding ask her about flipping Ian Rossiter?”
Sid’s eyes opened wide, and his mouth dropped open. He started to speak, but never got the chance to say anything. A burly arm wrapped around his throat, dragging him backward. With a choking cry he staggered back, scrabbling to stay on his feet.
“Is this little rat bothering you?” Clive asked, his voice deceptively calm.
Still rubbing her arm, Gertie looked anxiously at Clive’s face. His jaw was set at a dangerous angle, and his eyes glowered with fury.
Visions of him holding a candlestick aloft shot into her mind. He was capable of killing. Looking at him at that moment, she had no doubt of that. Afraid for him, for what he might do, she shook her head. “It’s all right, Clive. Really. Sid was just leaving, weren’t you, Sid.”
Held fast in Clive’s powerful grip, Sid’s face was pinched with fear. His voice hoarse and high-pitched, he gasped out, “I wasn’t going to hurt her, honest. I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all. I was just going. I swear I was.”
For answer, Clive gave him a hefty shove, sending him sprawling on the wet pavement. “Well, next time you talk to a lady, be a little more polite about it, or you’ll have to answer to me.”
Scrambling to his feet, Sid pulled his collar away from his neck. He looked about to say something, but Clive beat him to it.
“You’ve got exactly five seconds to get out of my sight, before I lose my temper and give you the thrashing you deserve. One, two…”
Sid opened his mouth, and Clive took a threatening step toward him. That was enough for Sid. He leapt for the gate, dragged it open, and fled through it, leaving it swinging behind him.
Gertie gave Clive a grateful smile as he moved toward her. “Thank you, Clive. You’re always coming to my rescue lately. I wish there was something I could do for you in return.”
The big man hesitated, as if there were something he desperately wanted to say. Apparently thinking better of it, he shook his head instead. “No need, miss. I’m glad to be of help.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Call me Gertie. Everybody does.”
He glanced down at the spot she’d touched, then smiled. “All right, Gertie.”
She suddenly remembered why she’d been in such a hurry. “I’ve got to go. Thank you, Clive!” Without waiting for him to respond, she turned and ran for the kitchen door.
Bursting inside, she came to a halt, disappointment draining all her energy. The room was empty. Dan hadn’t waited for her after all.
Sighing, she crossed the room to the hallway door. He’d have to come back for his coat. She still had that to hang on to, and if he didn’t, she’d take it to him. What she had to say to him could wait until then.
CHAPTER 19
Standing in the hallway, Cecily considered her options. Simply running away didn’t seem like a good idea; neither did yelling for help. After all, if she was wrong about Archibald Parker, and she seemed to be wrong about a lot of people lately, either action would seem pretty ridiculous.
Deciding that her best chance was to keep Archie talking in the hopes someone would come along, Cecily said quickly, “As a matter of fact, you were quite right about the murder weapon. It was a candlestick taken from the hallstand.”
Archie’s steady gaze never left her face. “You have it in your possession, I assume.”
“Ah… not in my possession, no. It is safely in the hands of the proper authorities.”
He looked at her as if he didn’t believe her. “I see. And what have you deduced from that?”
She did her best to look innocent. “Absolutely nothing, Mr. Parker. It isn’t my position to chase after a murderer. I prefer to leave that dangerous job to the constabulary.”
“Very wise, Mrs. B. Very wise.”
There was no doubt in her mind that his words were a subtle threat. Out of the corner of her eye Cecily saw
