Free Death on Beacon Hill by P.B. RYAN

Gannon and collect his payoffs.”
    Will crushed out his cigarette and closed a hand over Nell’s arm. “Look...Nell. I know how much you care for Brady, but are you sure you should be stirring things up like this? It could get a bit dicey. After all, there are several very powerful men who obviously want this whole business brushed neatly under the rug.”
    Soberly, quietly, she said, “Will, why did you come here today?”
    He frowned and lifted his shoulders, as if the answer were obvious. “I knew Virginia Kimball. At one time, well, I was quite taken with her. In my mind, she was this icon of feminine glamour and romance. And she
was
a remarkably gifted actress—I really admired that about her. Of course, to her, I was just a passing amusement. She never so much as let me kiss her cheek. Still, I’ve never forgotten her.”
    “Given all that,” Nell said, “doesn’t it trouble you even a little, knowing her murder will never really be solved?”
    Will shot her an eloquently baleful look to show that he wasn’t so easily manipulated. Still, she detected a hint of genuine interest when he asked, “If Fiona Gannon didn’t kill her, who did?”
    “I don’t know,” she said. “But I do know that the inquest was a sham. No one asked the hard questions, because no one wanted to hear the answers. I’d like to ask those questions.”
    “Of whom?”
    Nell shrugged. “Orville Pratt, Maximilian Thurston... I’d like to know what Mrs. Kimball was really like, whom she associated with, what her circumstances were. I’d love to find out more about Fiona Gannon. And then there are the men who paid off Detective Skinner. I’d like to know what they thought they were buying.”
    “Nell, Nell, Nell...” Will groaned as he rubbed the back of his neck. “These are not the kind of men who will tolerate your prying. You’ll be a threat to them, and they will deal with you as such.”
    “You don’t think I’m capable of discretion?”
    “Of course you are. You were discreet last autumn, with that Bridie Sullivan business. You were savvy and subtle, yet still you were very nearly murdered—in a most disagreeable manner.”
    Organ music floated out from the church, accompanied by a bustle of activity. Nell turned to see Mrs. Kimball’s heavy iron coffin being borne down the aisle by eight pallbearers. Will rose and helped Nell to her feet.
    As she dusted off her skirt, she murmured, “Rumors are starting about us.”
    “Excellent,” he said as he replaced his low-crowned top hat on his head. “Life would be so dull without rumors.”
    “That’s easy for you to say. In my profession, any whiff of scandal would be disastrous. You shouldn’t...” Nell hated this. She looked down, rubbed her thumb over the big silver key ring. “You shouldn’t meet Gracie and me in the park anymore.”
    Will looked at her—really looked at her—for the first time that morning. His eyes, shaded by that prominent brow of his, were grim; his jaw had that surly thrust it sometimes got. The sharply carved features that looked so engagingly patrician when he was relaxed could turn wolfish in a heartbeat. “You would force such a sacrifice on us just to disarm a few idle gossips?”
    “Will...”
    “More of a sacrifice for me than for you, I suppose. It means a great deal to me, seeing Gracie and spending time with...” He looked away, shook his head. When he looked back and saw that the procession from within the church was nearly upon them, he lowered his voice to an earnest whisper. “Would you take that away from me?”
    “Would you take Gracie away from
me
?” she asked desperately. “That’s what will happen if I lose my job because of these rumors you find so amusing.” Gentling her voice, she said, “Will, I’m sorry. I...I value those afternoons, too, more than you know, but...” She shrugged helplessly.
    Will took Nell’s elbow and steered her aside as the coffin was carried out of the church, the