worth the risk,” Willow said.
“When can we get started?” Meg asked.
“Tomorrow evening,” Willow said. “I have tickets to the theater, but I will need something to wear.”
“You can wear my emerald earrings,” Meg offered.
“Perfect,” Willow said.
“Why you?” Charlotte asked.
“Because I will turn him in if he steals from me. Not run away with him,” Willow said. “But you can come along if you promise to behave.”
Charlotte nodded.
“Me too?” Meg asked.
“Yes. Amelia, what about you?” Willow asked.
“No. Thank you, though. I’d love to, honestly, but I think I should probably stay with Papa. I’veleft him alone the last few days. But do have fun without me.” She smiled. “Well, not too much fun.”
Amelia sat and watched as her friends finalized the plans for the following evening. Admittedly she was a little envious, but that could not be helped.
Her father needed her right now. Needed her to be by his side working to find Nefertiti. Until then, her friends would have to chase the Jack of Hearts without her.
Colin had arrived precisely at three and his annoyance level was reaching a heightened stage. Still, he sat, waiting for Miss Watersfield in her blue parlor. Current time: twelve after three. Literally everything in the room was blue—blue carpet, blue wallpaper, blue furniture; they had even painted the ornate mantel above the fireplace blue. Why would someone do that sort of thing? He glanced at his pocket watch again—thirteen after three.
This was quite rude. Did she not realize that he had other things to do with his time? Suppose he had another patron or another case to tend to? The fact that he had no other patrons or cases or even a glimmer of hope for either was not relevant. Tardiness was the equivalence of inconsideration.
Colin was on the verge of mentally listing the virtues of promptness when Miss Watersfield bustled into the room.
“Good day to you, Inspector Brindley.”
He stood. “Good day, Miss Watersfield.”
She looked breathtaking in a simple gown the color of melted butter. It was a refreshing color against the sea of blue. The faint scent of strawberries drifted toward him, tantalizing him.
She was a paradox. Sweet and friendly and a pinnacle of purity—he was certain. Yet the memory of her fiery kiss still burned his lips and sent blood to his groin. Solving this case would have to be a priority, else the time spent with her would drive him to Bedlam.
“You wanted to discuss the investigation plan,” he said. “Do you simply want me to give you my strategy, step by step?”
She seemed slightly taken aback by his question. “I would love your step-by-step strategy. But I do believe I have more pressing news. I received this note only an hour ago.” She handed him the envelope. “I would have been downstairs sooner with it, but I was in with my father. He’s having a rough day.”
Colin nodded and felt an utter heel, that he’d been so annoyed before. Granted, he thought her father was overreacting to the loss of his trinket, but Amelia was tending to him and Colin couldn’t argue with that.
The note was from Mr. Flinders and the shop owner had requested a meeting to share new information with her. The same antiquities dealer who had once before shared information with her, all the while ignoring Colin’s request. How was that possible?
“Have you sent him a response?” Colin asked.
“Yes. I told him I would come to his shop first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I shall accompany you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said.
“Yes, it shall.” He hadn’t wanted to do this, but saw no other way around it. Nothing he said or did at this point would prevent her from “working” on the case. Her desire to be a part of the investigation was evidently an essential piece of her fantasy. Perhaps in her mind assisting in solving the case would be as if she were living out her own Sherlock story.
Colin supposed he
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