Deadly Clementine Read online

  “Now why did you leave in such a hurry?” she muttered.

  Pushing the door open even wider, Clementine stepped into the room. She reached the window just in time to catch sight of a figure, dressed completely in black, disappear into the trees at the end of the garden.

  “Who are you then?” she whispered aloud.

  Strangely, the house had an empty feel about it again. It left Clementine in no doubt that she was, once again, alone. So, who had the man been? What had he been searching for? Was he a relation of Sally’s? If so, why had he not used the front door like she had? Worse, why had he left when he had realised that he was no longer alone? Why not even stop to say ‘hello’ or explain his presence?

  Even more curious, and a little worried now, Clementine turned to look at the kitchen. There was no sign of any disturbance, but she still tugged gently on the back door to see if it was locked.

  “Well, you either have a key or are a very careful burglar who takes the time to lock the houses you burgle,” she muttered in disgust.

  Of course, it stood to reason that Sally wouldn’t leave any valuables in the kitchen. The items that were precious to her were all tucked away safely in the front parlour. So, what had the man been looking for? Clementine knew she might never find out because the kitchen was pristine. Everything had been scrubbed down and put away neatly. The chairs were seated precisely around the table. All the surfaces remained tidy, just like Sally always kept them.

  “What were you doing then?” Clementine mumbled.

  It seemed highly unusual for someone who decided to come and tidy up to be wearing such a heavy cloak on a chilly autumnal day. The visitor was wrapped up as if it was winter. In search of answers, Clementine did a quick search of the kitchen but didn’t find anything untoward except faint traces of someone having recently washed everything down. Even more confused now, Clementine decided it was time to leave. She was eager to get out of the icy confines of the emptiness, and the seemingly endless list of unanswered questions, and out into the morning sunshine so she could warm up a little.

  Once outside, she paused long enough to lock the house back up and heaved a sigh of relief when sunlight immediately basked her in its soothing warmth. But while it chased away the chill that lingered on her flesh, it did little to help ease her troubled thoughts.

  Clementine was still mulling over what had just happened when she stepped away from the house and began to walk back down the path toward the garden gate.

  “Of course, I only have myself to blame. If I had just stayed out of there in the first place, none of this would have happened. Now, I have more questions than answers,” she hissed beneath her breath. She was so lost in her thoughts that she reached the gate before she remembered she had to go and see Mrs Saunders to find out what Sally had been wearing when she had been found.

  “Good morning, Miss Marlborough.”

  Clementine jerked and had a guilty expression on her face that she struggled to hide when she looked up. Her eyes widened when she saw not only the man who had just called out to her, but also the tall, dapperly dressed gentleman who stood beside him.

  “Good morning, Captain. Mr Banfield-Moss.” Clementine nodded her head and tried to adopt a cool, aloof expression while she inwardly attempted to quell her guilt, but it was difficult to ignore when pinned beneath Mr Banfield-Moss’s piercing stare.

  Clementine suspected that those wonderful eyes of his never missed any flaw in a person’s character. During the handful of occasions when they had met in the past, Mr Banfield-Moss had tended to study her in a way that left Clementine feeling gauche and awkward. He was studying her like it now, as if he was reading all her secrets. As if to confirm her suspicions were right, Clementine watched his gaze slide to the house behind her before meeting hers. She saw the flash of challenge in his eye, and mentally groaned.

  Damn, I think he knows what I have been doing, she thought in dismay when their eyes met, and his lips ever so slowly curved upward, as if he had just witnessed her guilt, was pleased by it, and relished being able to pounce on her with the facts should she show him any weakness.

  Maybe he finds my discomfort amusing?

  It was annoying that Moses Banfield-Moss, Leicestershire’s finest private investigator, was so darned handsome. He was tall, with broad, powerful shoulders, and a thick mane of dark brown hair that had been cut short by most men’s fashionable standards. On Moss it added to his roguish charm. On a personal note, it was disturbing, and highly distracting to Clementine, to find herself not only facing this handsome man but being the sole focus of those wonderful azure eyes of his. Unfortunately, while on a feminine level she was pleasantly delighted to be noticed by him, she felt uncouth and awkward. Moses oozed masculine sophistication whereas she felt like an untutored, addle-brained chit who had nothing intelligent to say. To add to her consternation, it was galling that he always seemed a little bemused by her. It was as if he found her funny but was too polite to say so to her face, and that only added to her discomfort around him. Consequently, after that brief clash of gazes, Clementine did her best to dismiss him and turn her attention to the Captain instead.

  “It is sad news about Sally, I must say,” the Captain began. He waved an airy hand at Moss. “I take it you have already met Moss?”

  “Moss?” Clementine’s gaze flew from the Captain to the man standing beside him.

  “He doesn’t like to be called Moses on account of him not being religious.” The Captain threw his friend a teasing look. “Everybody who knows him calls him Moss.”

  Clementine nodded and waited for Moss to tell her that she could also call him by his nickname, but he didn’t.

  Oh, well, it is probably better that I keep my distance from him anyway.

  “Are you out for a morning stroll?” she asked of the Captain.

  “We are just about to visit an old friend of mine.” The Captain tapped the side of his nose in a secretive gesture and winked broadly at her, leaving Clementine in no doubt they were up to mischief as well. Still, she didn’t want to wait about to find out what it was. She had enough trouble on her hands and had been up to enough of her own.

  “Is that Mrs Walcott’s house?” Moss asked of them both.

  Moss secretly hoped that Clementine would answer and not the Captain, not least because he wanted to try to engage her in conversation. Clementine Marlborough was stunningly beautiful but always so reticent around him that he had to wonder if she didn’t like him. Right now, she appeared wary, if a little guilty, and that intrigued him not least because he had to wonder what she had been doing inside a dead woman’s house. When she had left the property, she had been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even realised they were there. Further, she had been muttering fiercely to herself, as if trying to overcome some insurmountable problem. Now, she just looked incredibly worried.

  Now what in the Devil’s name could she be up to?

  Moss was intrigued even though he knew he shouldn’t be. It was none of his business what the young woman got up to. But the investigator in him knew she was up to mischief and he wanted to know what it was. It seemed wrong that someone like Clementine should be blighted by criminality, if that is indeed what distracted her. While he couldn’t make that decision yet, Moss suspected that Clementine looked guilty enough to have done something she knew was wrong and that had to be criminal.

  How can someone that beautiful commit a crime?

  It was incomprehensible to Moss who tried not to stare but was absorbed by the vision she presented. He was a man after all, she was delicate and beautiful if in a somewhat matter-of-fact way. There were no lavish embellishments on her somewhat simple, if a little understated dress, but that didn’t detract from her beauty. The delicate fabric of the gown was liberally adorned with tiny rosebuds which accentuated the perfection of the wearer, as most well-designed gowns should do. The pale pink of the fabric highlighted the delicate bloom on Clementine’s porcelain features which glowed with a vibr
ancy that was enchanting. Together with the merry sparkle in her whisky coloured eyes and faint dimples bracketing the luscious bounty of her delicate lips, Clementine Marlborough was perfection personified, or as good as.

  “Yes,” the Captain replied. He frowned a little at Clementine. “I say, you have been told about her, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. I received the unfortunate news from the vicar this morning.” Clementine mentally winced when the Captain looked enquiringly at the house, silently asking why she had been in there. “Sally gave me the key a few weeks ago when she went to visit her sister. I have just been in to tidy up. You know, to save Dotty, her sister.” Clementine flicked a look at Moss to try to judge if he doubted her, but his face remained so impassively polite it was difficult to tell. “I don’t know what state she will be in. Dotty, that is. It doesn’t seem right that she should face the house in a mess after the doctor and the funeral director and all that. But it seems that someone else has already been in there.”

  Now that, Moss didn’t doubt. He too frowned at the house, not least because Clementine’s voice trialled off as if something deeply troubled her.

  “Have you seen any sign of a disturbance?” he asked gently.

  “Yes,” Clementine murmured vaguely. She paused while she allowed her troubled thoughts to settle and looked up in time to see the worried look the men exchanged. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. It is just that as I went in just now, I caught someone else leaving. As far as I know the only people who have keys to the house are me and Mrs Saunders next door. She found Sally this morning. Yet someone else was in the house. I just don’t know how they got in there.” Clementine studied the key in her hand and sighed heavily. “Sally’s death is all so very unexpected.”

  “Would you like us to escort you home?” The Captain offered gently. “I know you were friends with Sally, weren’t you?”

  “We were working on the fair together,” Clementine murmured absently. She jerked and sucked in a breath when she realised the men were still staring at her. “But no, thank you. I have a few things to pick up from the village before I go home. I was just passing Sally’s house and thought I would pop in to make sure everything was tidy, that’s all.”

  She offered the men a reassuring smile but knew it didn’t meet her eyes and certainly didn’t convince Moss who continued to study her sceptically. When their eyes met, there was a shadow of a suspicion in his that warned her he knew she was not being honest. Thankfully, he didn’t confront her about it, even though she suspected he wanted to.

  “Well, I had best be on my way then,” she offered with a smile she truly didn’t feel.

  Clementine was so fed up of the skittishness she always felt whenever she even saw Moses Banfield-Moss that she was almost glaring when she looked at him again. Her annoyance with herself, with him, with everything in general, grew even more when he smiled at her, but in a knowing kind of way that made her want to demand to know why he was smirking.

  Insufferable oaf – or he would be if he wasn’t so damned handsome. And he smells nice too.

  With another sigh, Clementine nodded at them both before she hurried off. When she reached the end of the street, she looked over her shoulder and mentally cursed when she saw they had both turned to watch her. With a half-hearted smile, she hurried off, glad to leave them both well behind.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Unfortunately, distance did nothing to help Clementine forget the man who had the power to turn her world upside down with almost no effort at all. As she walked through the village, she found her thoughts locked on Moss no matter how hard she tried to think of something else.

  “I am a dithering mess whereas he doesn’t even seem to know I am alive,” she muttered in disgust. “Well, of course he knows I am alive because he has just spoken to me, but he doesn’t see me as me. Oh dear, I am not making any sense at all.”

  “Pardon?”

  Clementine jerked when she released that she was no longer alone, and that she still hadn’t been to see Mrs Saunders yet. With a mental curse, she looked up to find herself the object of another man’s frown this morning, only this time, Mr Cavanagh was the one looking askance at her.

  “Good morning, Miss Marlborough,” he called with a ready smile.

  “Oh, good morning, Mr Cavanagh,” she replied with an uncharacteristic exuberance that made Mr Cavanagh look around warily.

  “It is sad news, isn’t it?” Mr Cavanagh added several moments later when a lengthy silence had fallen upon them.

  Clementine, who was eager to be on her way so she could contemplate what she had discovered this morning, stopped in the process of being on her way and turned to look at the elder gentleman. Mr Cavanagh was looking at her somewhat curiously.

  “Yes, it is,” she replied softly, wondering how many times she had to go through this exact same conversation.

  Maybe I should just go home and stay there until people find something else to talk about? I don’t want to keep having this conversation, not least because I still haven’t absorbed the reality of Sally’s death myself yet.

  “I am sure that sister of hers will be mightily upset,” Mr Cavanagh murmured.

  “Yes, she will, as we all are,” Clementine agreed. She mentally winced when Mr Cavanagh’s gaze slid from the road behind her, and the retreating backs of Moss and the Captain, and then back to her again.

  “Are you going home?” Mr Cavanagh pointed down the road with his cane.

  “No. I am on my way to see Dotty now,” Clementine lied.

  “Please extend to her my condolences, won’t you?” Mr Cavanagh murmured with a crisp bow.

  “I shall do, thank you.”

  “You take care now,” Mr Cavanagh called before taking his cue to leave.

  Clementine hurried away but took no more than another dozen or so steps before she stopped again. Staring down at her feet, she tried to decide what to do for the best. Should she go and see Dotty, or should she go and see Mrs Saunders first?

  An hour later, Clementine let herself out of Mrs Saunders’s house and puffed out her cheeks. She was now more disturbed than ever but also relieved because now she knew for a fact that her suspicions were correct. Sally had been wearing a night-gown when she had been found downstairs on the kitchen floor. No, Mrs Saunders hadn’t removed the clothing Sally had been wearing yesterday, nor did the undertaker take some of Sally’s clothing with him when he had collected Sally’s body. Mrs Saunders hadn’t seen any of Sally’s clothing lying around the house either. No, Mrs Saunders hadn’t been back to the house since she had locked the place up after the undertaker had left. No, she had no idea why there was no sheets on Sally’s bed. Mrs Saunders suggested that maybe the undertaker had used them to cover Sally’s body in the kitchen and had then taken them with her body to the mortuary.

  All that information led Clementine to only one conclusion; that there was something suspicious about Sally’s abrupt demise. According to Mrs Saunders, Sally had not gone out last night nor had she had any visitors after Clementine had left around six o’clock and no, there had been no visitors to the house this morning either.

  That left Clementine with another problem. How observant was Mrs Saunders? Clementine knew she had been there, and she hadn’t been alone, yet Mrs Saunders had sounded adamant that nobody had been to the house.

  “Now what do I do?” Clementine cried in exasperation.

  “Still mumbling to yourself?”

  Clementine gasped and whirled to glare at the man standing behind her – far too close behind her for comfort. She instinctively stepped back and lifted her brows at him as she tried to adopt a nonchalant expression, but she failed miserably because of the florid flush of guilt that stained her cheeks.

  “How do you do that?” she gasped, clutching a hand to her chest above her pounding heart, although why it was thumping Clementine couldn’t be quite sure.

  Moss folded his arms. “Walk down the street?” he teased, lifting his brows askance at her.
“It is easy really, most people do it, especially in villages like this.”

  “I meant creep about so silently,” Clementine snorted.

  “It appears that you were creeping. I was walking,” he challenged.

  “I was doing no such thing.”

  “You were too, and you were muttering to yourself.”

  “I have a lot on my mind, all right?” she snapped.

  “Like the death of your friend?” Moss lifted a gaze at the house next door to the recently deceased.

  “It was a shock.”

  “To everyone I presume.” Moss lifted a hand at the old woman who was peering suspiciously out of the window at them. When she realised that she had been noticed, Mrs Saunders darted out of sight. “Don’t tell me, visiting her was just your neighbourly duty as well.”

  “Mrs Saunders found Sally this morning,” Clementine reasoned.

  She wanted to tell him to go away and mind his own damned business, but Clementine suspected that if she did then Moss would remain with her just to annoy her.

  And distract me like he is now.

  “She doesn’t seem too upset,” Moss mused, smirking when his gaze turned to the window only to find the woman peeking around the edge of the shutter. He waved to the path before him and motioned Clementine to walk. “Shall we?”

  “I can find my own way home, thank you,” she informed him pertly.

  Moss hesitated but wasn’t going to allow her to walk home by herself, not least because he wanted a quiet word in her father’s ear about allowing his wayward daughter out alone. After what he had heard from the Captain this morning, he was starting to wonder just what strange and unexpected seizure had taken the newly deceased lady who was, by all accounts, perfectly fit and well up until Clementine had visited her.

  “I think it is only right that I should escort you after what has happened this morning,” Moss murmured smoothly.

  Clementine frowned at him. “What do you know about that?”

  “Just that a perfectly healthy woman has been found dead, that’s all,” Moss soothed. “What have you heard?”