Free The Scarlet Wench by Marni Graff

were separate departments that investigated drugs, organized crime and even high-tech cyber crime, Declan thought of his unit as the regular working group for the crimes that affected Oxford’s citizens: serious assaults, robberies, sexual offenses, even murder. He pursued all criminals with zeal borne out of his desire to outwit evil.
      On his way back, Declan stopped at a gift shop on the quay and perused the postcard racks for the tackiest one he could find. CID’s notice board displayed offerings sent from staff on holiday to tease those stuck at work. He chose one split into four views of the area with Greetings from Cumbria! splashed across the top. There was a view of Scafell Pike and a sunset over the lake for the top photos. The lower half featured Wordsworth’s Dove Cottage, its gardens in full bloom, and lastly—the deciding factor for Declan—a shot inside The World of Beatrix Potter, with dozens of stuffed Peter Rabbits and Jemima Puddle-Ducks on display. Brilliant.
      Then to bring a smile to the likes of Watkins, McAfee and the others toiling away, Declan scrawled across the back:
      No crime, not missing you, glad you’re not here. D
      He addressed it and, after buying a stamp, stuck it into the red postbox on the corner. Mission accomplished.
      Declan crossed the road to Ramsey Lodge, mood high. The brown-stone Edwardian lodge looked attractive and well maintained; its white woodwork shone in the sunlight. Declan inhaled the spring air, wondering if he could get Nora away for a few hours tomorrow. Perhaps a trip to the Windermere Steamboat Museum? He wondered how far a ride it was to Sizergh Castle. Both would have facilities for buggies.
      He opened the lodge door and paused on the step to check for mud on his hiking boots. An iron hedgehog, its back a stiff bristle brush, sat to one side for just this purpose, and as he worked on removing the clumps of dirt that clung to his boots, he heard Grayson Lange’s bellowing voice.
      “ … and I want to make it clear to whomever is responsible that I will not tolerate any more of these childish pranks. This ends here and now .” His voice shook with anger, then quickly changed tenor. “I’m quite prepared to overlook today’s incidents in the interest of the play. Now if you’ll turn your scripts to Act II … ”
      Today’s incidents ? What was that about? Declan closed the door behind him. After being in the bright sun, he stood blinking for a minute in the darker hall.
      Nora came downstairs leading Gemma Hartwell. He caught her serious expression and tried to ignore the rush to his groin. Gemma’s face was red and blotchy. Declan raised an eyebrow in question at Nora, who stood beside him to watch Gemma’s entrance into the drawing room. The actress was greeted with a loud burst of enthusiasm from Grayson.
      “Here’s our Elvira now! We’re starting Act II , dear, so your entrance will be from those French doors outside. Fiona, you’re sitting here when I make my entrance.”
      Fiona sat at the round table Burt had situated under the chandelier.
      “Remember your direction is to greet me ‘with a certain stiffness,’ Fiona,” the director instructed. “This morning you were much too friendly.”
      Declan enjoyed the glare Fiona shot Grayson, but the director ignored her as the rehearsal commenced. He and Nora turned as Simon came downstairs, carrying a small object wrapped in a green plastic bag.
      Nora tugged Declan’s sleeve. “We need to talk. In Simon’s room,” she commanded. “I have to get Sean.”
      Declan followed Simon to his kitchen and pulled out chairs.
      “Don’t ask.” Simon placed his bundle on the table.
      Nora returned with Sean and sat down with the baby on her lap. She explained the incident in detail, and Declan frowned.
      “Not a nice thing to find on your pillow,” he agreed, turning to Simon. “How did you get it into that bag?”
      Simon rolled his eyes. “Miss