My Dearest Ella,
How your father has missed you. I know these last few months have been difficult, but give them a chance. You’ll grow to love each other as I have grown to love your stepmother, Olivia. Treat them well while I’m away.
Whatever else the letter contained was now lost. Ella likely had a rough transition into her new family. Having her father die so soon after he re-married must have been devastating. I knew how easy it was to feel alone even when surrounded by other people.
Seeing the room with fresh eyes, I imagined Ella sleeping on the mattress, isolated from the rest of her family. Why was Olivia showing Derrick to a room that wasn’t hers?
I placed the charred remains on the stone hearth and walked toward the nightstand. The drawer held a worn novel and a fresh apron. Between the fabric folds was a bronze padlock and a key. I frowned, holding the weight of it in my hand. The bedroom door had a metal latch three-quarters of the way up. Was Ella barring her room at night? And if so, from whom?
An odd bundle protruded from under the thin comforter on the bed, resembling a wad of clothes. Maybe it was more of Ella’s letters? I reached toward the mound.
“What are you doing down here?” Derrick’s voice boomed from the doorway, making me jump. The thud of his boots echoed on the floor at the same time a loud hiss filled the room. I knew instantly what had made that sound.Of all the rotten luck.
A cat.
The blanket fell away, and sharp claws sank into my outstretched hand. I yelped, spinning away from the attacking beast. Derrick wasn’t so lucky. The black cat leaped from the bed, mewling and hissing as it darted between his legs. He tried to get out of its way but lost his balance and crashed into me. We fell, tangled together, landing hard against the mattress. He caught himself with his hands, our faces inches apart.
“We need to stop meeting like this, Detective.” My gaze was drawn to his mouth, and a rush of heat spread through my body. His lips moved, and it seemed to take ages for the sound to reach my ears.
“What did I tell you about rule number one?” He caught me staring, so I flicked my gaze back up to his. Derrick’s eyes darkened, tension coiling through his arms. More heat pooled through my limbs. I licked my dry lips and shifted beneath him. The movement evoked a low groan in the back of his throat.
My breath caught. I wanted nothing more than to hear that sound again.
“You’d better write down the rules if you expect me to remember them all.”
“Rule number one.” His voice dipped an octave deeper, sending a shiver through my spine. “It’s dangerous to investigate alone.”
“You’re right, I could have been killed by the cat. Sodangerous.”
He lifted his weight, and I instantly regretted my sarcastic response.
Reaching for my hand, Derrick examined the scratch. A tiny rivulet of blood seeped from the edges. I sucked in a breath as he ran a feather-light touch along the broken skin.
“Cats hate me. I know that goes against logic. They’re supposed to be a witch’s best friend, but every one I encounter wants to dig its claws into me. You should see my neighbor’s cat. I’ve tried everything. Leaving it fish, scratching behind his ear. I even tried casting a spell. That only made him mad. His eternal goal is to hiss at my grave.”
Derrick sat up, taking me with him. “I’ll have him arrested.”
I bit my cheek to contain a laugh. “You better be serious. It may be him or me one day. Don’t make me promises you don’t intend to keep.”
A beat of silence passed. His gaze mimicked what mine had done, dropping to my lips. The air seemed to thin, and my lungs burned when his hand brushed against my waist. Barely conscious of my actions, I leaned closer, my eyes drifting closed.
Immediately, Derrick pulled back, his expression switching to a mask of indifference. I nearly punched the mattress until I saw the tic in his jaw, signaling he wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to be.
“I never make promises. Rule number four.”
The whiplash of his emotions washed over me, and I crossed the room, taking a deep breath to calm my pounding heart.
“Well, while you were upstairs following around Mrs. Lockwood and her clingy daughter, I stumbled across something.”
The bed creaked as Derrick rose to his feet. His tone was all business again.
“What did you find?”
I pointed to the fireplace and the remnants of Ella’s letters. “Whatever they showed you upstairs, I wouldn’t believe it. I think this was Ella’s room, and I don’t think she was happy here. She might have even been afraid.”
***
Olivia Lockwood toyed with the sleeve of her mourning gown. “It’s true, Ella wasn’t happy before her death. Her father contracted an illness after he returned from his last trip. It was a long and debilitating ailment that eventually claimed his life. We consulted with specialists, hoping to find a cure, but we were unsuccessful. After Maxwell’s death, we tried to help Ella cope, but she completely shut down and refused to sleep in the main part of the house.”
