TAJ 33

33.

Because she was walking slowly while talking with Finlay, Claire arrived home later than Isabel.

Claire noticed Isabel had arrived first thanks to the yellow light from the gas lamp seeping through the window, and she returned her key to her pocket.

When she opened the door, Isabel was sautéing potatoes and peas in butter. The savory smell of the butter stirred Claire’s hunger.

“You’re back?”

“Yeah, you got here fast.”

“I thought you went to see Sir Norton again without saying anything.”

There was a hint of reproach in Isabel’s voice.

“Sorry, I won’t do it again. And I really didn’t meet Clive that day—I was caught by Lady Eleanor.”

Claire explained as she washed her hands and helped prepare dinner. She cut bread and tomatoes and arranged them on a plate.

Isabel filled the remaining space on Claire’s plate with potatoes. Dinner was ready in no time.

“Good job today.”

“You too.”

They began their meal by comforting each other over their long day.

“I ran into Finlay on the way home.”

“How’s she doing? I rarely see her even though we live in the same neighborhood.”

“I run into her from time to time. Sometimes she stops by Lemon House.”

“If she liked books, she might’ve come to the book salon and we’d see her more often. A shame, really.”

Isabel said with a smile, and Claire came to Finlay’s defense.

“Hey, Finlay likes war novels. It’s not like she reads them all the time, but still.”

Isabel chuckled and popped a tomato into her mouth. Claire followed suit, letting the tangy flavor spread in her mouth.

“Hey, have you heard anything about Miss Gemma?”

At the mention of Gemma, the smile disappeared from Isabel’s face.

“I only heard she’s still recovering at home.”

“Finlay said she found her at a house she was working at.”

“Really?”

Isabel’s hand, about to spear a potato with her fork, froze mid-air.

“She said she had to give a statement to the patrol today.”

At that, Claire also set down her fork.

“And apparently, the house belongs to Max Davis.”

“They found Gemma at Max’s house?”

“Yeah. She was collapsed in the basement. Max said he didn’t even know there was a basement.”

“Are you sure? I thought Max rented on Rodney Street.”

“He bought a new house recently and hired someone to renovate it. That’s when they found her, apparently.”

Isabel hadn’t heard a word about Max buying a new house or Gemma being found there.

Now that she thought about it, it had been a while since she’d seen Max. Maybe he was busy—he hadn’t been to the Rom Book Salon lately either.

“It’s unfortunate that something like this happened in his new house, but thanks to that, they found Gemma—so maybe it’s a good thing?”

Watching Isabel, who seemed to have no suspicions about Max, Claire sipped her water.

“Do you know about the perfumer who died recently at Edelweiss?”

“I read it in the paper.”

“Max visited that shop.”

“Max doesn’t even wear perfume.”

Isabel responded casually.

“Doesn’t that seem strange?”

“What does?”

“Max. He owns the house where Gemma was found, he visited Edelweiss, and he’s also a teacher at Waverly School, where Gareth went.”

Isabel chuckled at Claire’s serious expression.

“It’s just a coincidence.”

“You might be right. Still, it feels off.”

“He’s a very polite person. I’ve never even heard him speak ill of someone.”

“You don’t know everything about him, though.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Claire’s firm tone made Isabel falter a bit.

“So, you’re saying Max could be behind all of this?”

“If it’s all a coincidence, then fine—but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Besides, it’s not like you have feelings for Max. Your heart’s with Russell, isn’t it?”

If Isabel said Claire was being too imaginative because of reading too many novels, she might just get angry.

Still, Isabel could understand Claire’s concern. She had already been thinking about cutting things off with Max soon.

“Alright. I’ll be careful. I was planning to end things with Max soon anyway.”

Claire, thinking that would be enough, lowered her eyes again, lost in thought.

Isabel tore off a piece of bread with her hand, watching Claire’s tightly coiled curls bounce.

“Claire.”

Just as she popped a piece of bread into her mouth, Claire called her in an even more serious, heavier tone than before.

“Yeah?”

“It might be better to hold off. What if you break things off and he snaps and tries to hurt you?”

Isabel fiddled with her water glass and replied lightly.

“Alright. I’ll do what you say. I’ll avoid seeing Max as much as I can. I can’t stop him from coming to the Rom Book Salon, though.”

Only then did Claire’s face finally relax.

“Okay, let’s finish dinner now.”

At Isabel’s words, Claire picked up her fork again.

***

“You’re here.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

It was a rare evening with the entire family gathered for dinner.

At the head of the table sat Earl Norton. To his right were Connor Norton and his wife, along with Eleanor.

To his left was the empty seat of the Countess Diane, and beside that sat Clive.

Clive had planned to come home early but barely made it on time. When he saw Diane’s seat empty, he signaled to Eleanor.

“She got something on her clothes and went to change.”

Relieved he wasn’t the last one to arrive, Clive sat down.

“Been busy?”

Connor asked, and Clive replied briefly, “A bit.”

“Any leads on the serial killer?”

The Earl jumped right into a tough subject. There had been no new developments regarding the vagrant murder.

“We’re at a standstill.”

Perhaps not expecting much, the Earl moved on to the next question.

“What about Gareth’s murder and Gemma’s abduction?”

“We’ve identified a suspect linked to both cases and are moving to place them under house arrest.”

“You think one person’s behind both?”

“We believe it’s likely the same person who killed Miss Dolores Turner as well.”

All three cases had similar notes or letters with imitated handwriting.

“Well, that’s good.”

Connor looked pleased. The Earl, however, remained cautious.

“You thought Joan Pope was the culprit before and had her under house arrest, but she was released.”

A sharp jab at a sore point.

“This time, we’re almost certain.”

“I’m sure you’ve made that judgment with good reason, but still—be careful.”

“I trust Clive’s judgment.”

“Honey, we agreed not to discuss these topics at dinner,” Countess Diane said as she entered, gently scolding the Earl.

He eased his stiff expression and chuckled.

“You’re right. I’ve brought too heavy a topic to our rare family meal.”

With Diane now seated, the maids began serving the food. Diane watched Rosalind, who was eating heartily.

“Do you like the roast chicken, Rosalind?”

Feeling a little embarrassed, Rosalind smiled.

“I must’ve been hungrier than I thought. It’s seasoned just right today.”

“Are you pregnant, perhaps?”

Seeing her daughter-in-law flustered, Diane quickly added with grace,

“I was just asking—not pressuring you.”

“It sounds like pressure to me,” Eleanor said, popping a mushroom into her mouth.

“When I was pregnant with Connor, my appetite increased too. Just to be safe, maybe skip the wine and see a doctor tomorrow?”

“I will. But don’t get your hopes up. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

Eleanor slid Rosalind’s untouched wine glass toward Clive.

“Here, you drink this. The only thing you’ve got going for you is your face, and even that’s suffering.”

Clive let out a chuckle at Eleanor’s half-insulting remark. He was tired, but not that bad-looking, surely.

The Earl, who always ate quickly, was first to rise.

“I made a new friend recently.”

As soon as the Earl left the dining room, Eleanor turned to Diane and glanced at Clive.

Clive was cutting his tart in half.

“A new friend? Where?”

Connor, always kind, took interest in Eleanor’s social life.

“At a bakery I happened to visit.”

Realizing Eleanor was talking about Claire, Clive put down his fork and picked up his wine.

“What family is she from?”

“I don’t know yet. We’re still getting to know each other.”

Diane’s brows furrowed slightly.

“You mean she didn’t even introduce herself?”

“Getting to know someone is part of the fun.”

Eleanor replied cheerfully, beaming.

“Don’t worry, Mother. She seemed like a nice girl.”

“Rosalind, you know her too?”

When did Rosalind meet her?

Eleanor quickly turned her head away from Clive and looked at Diane with an impish expression.

“We had tea once. She’s a sweet girl who speaks so gently.”

As Clive subtly nodded at Rosalind’s words, Connor caught it and asked,

“Clive, you know her too?”

“Nope, she’s my friend. You don’t know her.”

The four-year age gap hadn’t kept these siblings from fighting as children, and now they were quietly battling over a girl neither was willing to name.

Diane, who thought her second and third children had grown into thoughtful adults, had no idea.

“There’s no friend of yours I don’t know.”

“Oh my. You’ve always been so interested in me?”

Eleanor widened her eyes in mock surprise and covered her mouth with her hand.

Here we go again. Connor silently chuckled, knowing if he laughed out loud, both would pounce on him.