A Cozy Little Murder: A Violet Carlyle Cozy Historical Mystery (The Violet Carlyle Mysteries Book 24

out of money, how did she pay you?”
“She paid a retainer and agreed to a daily stipend. Ham didn’t realize she was being taken advantage of by her grandson. He thought he was dealing with some 14-year-old whose grandmother was being ignored by the local constables because she was a woman alone or some other such nonsense. There was a bit of white knight syndrome for our Ham.”
Vi laughed. “He’s been too long behind a desk for his usual cases, seeing nonsense like that and wanting to swoop in and save those others.”
Jack nodded, taking her hand and then lifting it to his mouth. She relaxed at the feel of his lips against her skin. It was enough, she thought, that they weren’t fighting.
“I didn’t think there would be trouble,” Vi said, finally addressing the tension still following them. “I truly believed that Smith didn’t think there would be trouble either. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have helped. But I would have asked more questions and been certain it was a cause I could agree with. I suspect it wasn’t.”
“I know,” Jack said. “I even agree with you. Smith truly didn’t think there would be trouble if he meant to take Beatrice. He would murder us all for her.”
Vi snorted and then laughed, leaning against Jack’s shoulder while he wove through London’s traffic. Her gaze lit on a boy with dirty cheeks and an exultant expression. A young girl with braids walking a dog. An older woman walking arm-in-arm with an older man. They both had time-worn faces and leaned into the other.
“Do you think that something is wrong with Jason Meyers? Do you think he’s in trouble?”
“From what she didn’t say, I think he’s always been in trouble, Vi.”
“It would be interesting to speak to the family about him. If he’s been taking advantage of their mother and grandmother, they probably know and have strong feelings about it.”
They had reached their house, and Vi couldn’t have cared less once the chance to hear about Rita was available. Vi darted out of the car, not waiting for Jack to open her door, and was up the steps before Jack had finished turning off the auto to follow.
“Hargreaves!” Vi called as she hurried into the house. “Any news?”
He nodded and the smile was enough to have her collapsing into a chair.
“Everyone they talked to thinks it’ll be all right, Mrs. Vi.”
Vi teared up, and she couldn’t speak. Hargreaves was at the ready with a handkerchief, and she blubbered a little before she squeaked out, “Oh, that is good news.”
“Mrs. Rita would like you to visit, Mrs. Vi.”
Vi rose immediately and then paused. “I need something to bring her. Something to show we care.”
“She knows you do, ma’am, but I did take the liberty.”
He handed her an oversized basket just as Jack opened the door to the house.
“Jack!” Vi called. “To Rita and Ham. All is well.”
Jack simply stepped to the side, opening the door for Vi to dart back through. He took the basket as she passed, and she didn’t wait for him once again. She was sitting in the passenger seat when he reached the auto and placed the basket in the back. He started the car and they made their way to the house Ham and Rita had taken for the next six months.
“Rita wants to find a house,” Vi said. “We need to find one near us or Lila.”
Jack nodded as Vi chattered about anything and everything. She just needed to see Rita and ensure that her friend was all right. Vi bounced in the seat, unable to keep still until they arrived, and then she hurried up the steps, leaving Jack behind once again.
Vi knocked on the door of the house, and when the servant they’d hired didn’t come quickly to the door, she tried the handle and let herself in.
“Vi—” Jack groaned, but Vi simply grinned wickedly and hurried inside.
Ham and Rita’s butler eyed her askance, but she skipped up the stairs and then knocked lightly on the bedroom door.
“Rita, it’s Vi,” she called.
Ham opened the door, saw Vi’s face, and said, “She’s going to be all right. The baby too, we think.”
Vi took Ham’s face between her hands, kissed each cheek, and then rushed past him.
Their gazes met and Vi was nearly knocked off her feet. Rita, who was one of the most beautiful people Vi had ever met, let alone ever seen, was pale. The pale of illness, not the normal paleness of Brits with their clouded skies and careful use of hats and parasols. Vi stepped in further and took in the dark circles under Rita’s eyes.
Rita’s bottom lip was trembling and Vi crawled onto the bed, taking her friend’s hand.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Ham said softly and disappeared.
He didn’t leave because of the tears, Vi knew, but because these ones were for her. Vi wrapped her arms around Rita’s shoulders and carefully pushed back her friend’s golden curls.
“I thought we’d lost him,” Rita whispered. “I shouldn’t have drunk so much. I was having fun and poking at Ham, and he was almost driven to distraction by me, and then I thought it would be a good idea to take off my shoes halfway up the stairs, and he told me not to, and I turned, one foot in my hand, and then…”
Vi noticed the bruises then. They were down Rita’s arms and her friend winced when she moved her hip.
“I’m surprised your sweet Ham didn’t have a heart attack.”
“He cried,” Rita whispered, her own tears slipping down her face. “People die falling down the stairs, Vi. He said he thought he lost me. When I started cramping, he was sure we’d lost the baby, and he just manfully buttoned up and said the blessing was that I lived. He was one whisper from saying there would be other babies, but I stopped him. I couldn’t handle it.”
Vi squeezed Rita, wishing she could take away some of those bruises. “I—”
Rita’s watery laugh