Free London by Carina Axelsson Page B

only people around. The street was empty. Sebastian must have noticed too, because he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a huge rosebush that was growing wild over a wall. He dipped his head toward mine. My heart skipped a beat (okay, maybe a few)… But just as we were about to kiss, the vicar from St. Stephen’s appeared as if from nowhere. “Axelle, good evening!” he called from across the road. “What a lovely time of year. Summer’s in the air, isn’t it?”
    I was red in the face and flustered, only able to nod and wave as the vicar went on his way, but Sebastian just laughed. “And I thought being in the same city would make kissing easier,” he said. “Come on, let’s go get a burger.”
    Two minutes later I pushed open the swinging door to my favorite local hamburger joint, the Lucky Seven Diner (“the most authentic diner experience this side of the Brooklyn Bridge”), and let the smell of cheeseburgers, fries, and milk shakes waft over me for a moment before sliding into the nearest available booth (which was, in fact, the only available booth).
    Sebastian and I placed our orders—cheeseburger with Kraft cheese for me, a bacon cheeseburger with Monterey Jack cheese for Sebastian, and a side of fries for both of us. I couldn’t wait to tell him about the new case. It would no doubt take Sebastian by surprise and definitely mess with our sightseeing plans. Apart from the exhibitions he’d told my mom about, we’d planned to go on the London Eye, see a play that a friend of his aunt’s was performing in, and take a day trip to Oxford. But regardless, I was certain he wouldn’t mind. After all, he was as eager to be a crime journalist as I was to be a detective—and since both occupations complemented each other, solving cases was fun to share.
    â€œYour eyes are sparkling, Holmes. And as much as I’d like to think it was due to me, I think there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”
    Of course I wasn’t immune to the way his gray-blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at me from across the table, or how his tousled, light-brown hair looked totally touchable… Then again, a case is a case—and romance aside, it was time to get working.
    â€œActually, Watson, someone came to see me this morning…”
    I’d brought my laptop along, so after bringing Sebastian up to speed on my meeting with Tallulah that morning, we started on our vanilla milk shakes while scrolling through the images on Gavin’s flash drive.
    â€œHow do you start figuring this one out?” Sebastian asked as we stopped at the last image—the photo of the old photo. He ruffled his hair and leaned back in the banquette opposite me. “From everything you’ve told me, this case seems about as murky as the Thames.”
    â€œHmm…it could be, yeah…but on the other hand we’re lucky to have a fixed location.”
    Sebastian raised his eyebrows at me.
    â€œWe know more or less where Gavin was attacked, and we have specific times for where he was that morning.”
    â€œNot that that tells us much…”
    â€œWell, not yet, but still, I think it’s safe to deduce that the location by the Thames must have some kind of link to what happened—especially since his shoes and jeans were wet.”
    â€œYou think he stepped into the river?”
    â€œMaybe…” I suddenly remembered a thought I’d had earlier. I typed Thames tides into Google. A few moments later I clicked onto a site that listed the precise times for high and low tides for the entire year. “Look…the tide was at its lowest that Sunday morning.” I turned my laptop so that Sebastian could read it. “I know it’s possible to get right down to the waterline if the tide is low and you’re in the right place. And there must be a few points with direct public access to the