The constable didn’t flinch. “The police needed access to the house, ma’am.” He removed the police’s notice that forbade anyone to enter and unlatched the chain securing the door. “Please.”
Amelia strode inside, her bottom lip trembling. The quick click-clack of her heels echoed in the foyer. Dust and dry leaves littered the marble floor, and muddy footprints marked the carpet.
Christopher followed. An irrational fear filled him, as if she might be in danger here. “Where is Elias’s office?”
“Upstairs.” Without glancing back, she started up the stairs. Her hand on the bannister shivered, and he fought the urge to gather her in his arms and comfort her.
Although he wasn’t sure from what he should comfort her about. A broken door?
Aside from the dust covering the tile and the pile of unopened mail on a table, the house looked like Pearl had just left and was about to return any moment. A feminine coat hung on a hook on the wall. Dirty boots lay in a corner, and a hat rested on a chair. Pearl must’ve left in a hurry. Not a point in her favour.
Cowasj gestured towards the discarded clothes. “Miss Pearl literally fled the house. I’d say this is the behaviour of a guilty person.”
“Or just scared,” Amelia rebuked.
“Miss Amelia.” Cowasj’s jaw ticked. “I confess I’m puzzled by your outrage and your conviction of Pearl’s innocence when every fact points to her guilt. If you know something we don’t, please share your information with us.”
“Cowasj,” Christopher said in a conciliatory tone.
“It’s obvious Miss Amelia knows more than she’s telling.” The prince’s nostrils flared with rage. “I bet she’s hiding her friend somewhere.”
“How dare you!” Amelia’s voice rose.
“Please.” Christopher thumped his walking stick on the floor. “Let’s put the arguments and speculation aside and search the house.”
Although the nagging feeling on the back of his head screamed that Cowasj had a point.
~ * ~
PEARL TRIED TO contain the tremor in her legs, but judging by the inquisitive glances Christopher threw at her, she wasn’t succeeding. Searching her own house with him and the ever-accusing prince was scratching her nerves raw.
The police had ransacked the house. The vases on the mantlepiece of the office had been moved, one of them was cracked, and Father’s documents were scattered on the floor.
Christopher gathered the papers and divided them in neat piles. As he went through them, he kept throwing peeps at her.
Huffing, Cowasj searched a few documents, muttering in his mother tongue. “If there was something of interest here, the police would’ve found it,” he said, tossing a pile on the floor.
The annoyed comment Pearl was about to spit remained trapped in her throat. Father was innocent. She was innocent. The prince and Christopher would apologise for how they were treating her.
“I want to see Pearl’s room,” Cowasj said.
A knot of dread clogged her throat. The brutal tone Cowasj used was like a slap on her face.
Christopher tapped his walking stick on the floor and gave another glance at the room before turning to her. “Where’s Pearl’s room?”
Anxiety wrapped around her like vine. “Is it necessary?”
“Miss Amelia,” Cowasj started in a condescending voice she didn’t like. “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. I’d suggest you cooperate if you don’t want to be charged with a crime.”
The vines tightened their grip, and the breakfast she’d had that morning threatened to come up.
“Cowasj.” Christopher stomped his walking stick on the floor. “Amelia isn’t a suspect. Please, address her with respect.”
Curse the prince. Curse both of them. Pearl headed out of the room, carrying wounded pride and fear. “Follow me.”
She walked along the familiar corridor where she’d played with her mother and chased her favourite cat. The scent of the soap she used to scrub the floor filled her nostrils when she entered her room. But her clothes had been thrown out of the wardrobe, and her shoes lay scattered on the floor.
Even her books had been tossed from the shelves.
