He stood, inspecting the lock itself. “This is one of the old mechanisms. Original to the house. These can jam. Or slip.”
“It didn’t slip,” I said, sharper than I meant to. “I’m careful.”
He gave me a look, one part amusement, one part sympathy. “I can see that. You probably iron your receipts.”
“Only the important ones,” I shot back.
His grin was brief but disarming. Then he tried the handle again, testing the latch. “All right, so, locked room, missing brooch. Either someone can pick locks, or…”
“Or?”
He shrugged. “Or it grew legs.”
I glared. “Very helpful, thank you.”
He took another slow look around the room. “I’m just saying, maybe it’s not theft. Could’ve been moved, picked up by staff, misplaced during turndown.”
“It was in the drawer when I left for breakfast this morning.” I said.
“And what time was that?”
“Six thirty.”
“Right,” he said, glancing around once more. “Then maybe one of your colleagues came in?”
“Not even Cleo has a key to this room, and she’d rather eat her clipboard than lose a client’s property. Also, she was with me the whole time.”
He nodded slowly, scanning the carpet near the bed, then crouched again near the doorframe. “Huh.”
“What?”
He ran a thumb along the skirting board. “Tiny scuff here. Fresh.”
I moved closer. “Could be anything.”
“Could be,” he agreed.
I frowned. “Surely that was made by a previous guest?”
He looked up at me, the grin gone. “That mark’s fresh. Someone could’ve hit the door hard enough to jolt the latch.”
A chill ran down my spine. “So, I didn’t imagine it.”
Noah crouched again, running his thumb lightly over the scuff before straightening, his expression unreadable.
For a long beat, neither of us spoke.
Then I finally found my voice. “But hardly anyone even knew I had the brooch.”
“Exactly,” he said, folding his arms. “So whodidknow?”
“Just Cleo and Caroline,” I answered quickly. “And Caroline’s mother, obviously, she’s the one who handed it to me. Oh, and… well. You.”
He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck like he wished he could erase himself from that list. “Then whoever took it either overheard us… or knew exactly where to look.”
My pulse skipped. “You think someone inside the wedding party?”
“I think,” he said slowly, choosing each word with care, “someone knew the perfect moment. When you’d be out. When the guests were distracted. When no one would be anywhere near this hallway.”
