Page 53 of The Detective and the Baroness

“Medical leave, temporarily working as a private investigator. Lady Addington, this is Detective Reid Mahone. Detective, Lady Corrine Addington.”

“My lady,” Mahone murmured. He pointed at Travis. “Your husband?”

“Yes. Baron Travis Addington.”

“My condolences. Who was the young man?”

“I have no idea,” Corrine answered.

“The man was not here alone,’ Mitchell stated.

“Oh? Why?” Mahone asked.

Corrine was curious to know how Mitchell had come to that conclusion as well.

“There is only one revolver at the scene. Multiple gunshots were exchanged since both men were shot. The second man took the gun and escaped, probably only mere minutes before we arrived. People were already gathering on the street when we approached the door. The neighbor heard ‘booming sounds,’ meaning more than one shot.” Mitchell pointed to the wall. “It could be a robbery. The wall safe is empty.”

Corrine spun around. Wall safe? She had no idea Travis had one.

“But even more damning is the fact that the young man said he’d been left behind…by his father, whoever that might be.”

Mahone furiously took notes. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Corrine spread her arms. “I would like to change. And before you ask, I came into a dark house. I called for the butler, but he was not there. I heard a groan in the study, entered the room, and slipped in that pool of blood. I crawled to the hall, stood, and called for Sergeant Simpson. He came in, I turned on the gas lights—I had a handkerchief wrapped around my hand—and it was then we saw the bodies. I felt for a pulse on my husband, but there was none. His injuries were fatal.”

Mahone’s mouth quirked. “That answered several of my questions, but I have more. Many more. And I believe it best we make this official at the station. So, yes, my lady, you may change, but bring the gown to me. I will need it for evidence.”

Corrine took one last glance at Travis’s lifeless form. “I hired Detective Simpson to follow my husband. I believed he was cheating on me. We only married a few months ago, but it was not a love match. If you are wondering why I’m not sobbing uncontrollably, I have learned to keep my emotions in check in stressful situations, medical or not. I am sure it will hit me later. And you should also know that I had a meeting tonight with Doctor Drew Hornsby. I work with him at the free clinic, volunteering as a nurse. Detective Simpson was there also, to discuss my ongoing case. There were dozens of witnesses.” Good lord, she was rambling. Perhaps the stress had already taken its toll.

“My lady,” Detective Mahone said firmly. “You are not a suspect.”

“Yet, you mean.” Corrine blew out a shaky breath. “Ignore that. I will go change.”

“I will have to corroborate your story, my lady. It’s part of my job. But I’m acquainted with Doctor Hornsby and have heard of Sergeant Simpson’s sterling reputation. My asking questions does not mean I believe you guilty of anything.”

“I understand, Detective.” Corrine nodded and hurried upstairs. Her cheeks were hot. She could feel it. She had to keep a cool head and not take offense to any inquiries.

Oh, Travis. I am so sorry this happened to you. What were you up to?

Chapter Twenty

They finally emerged from the Harrow Road police station shortly after one in the morning. Mitchell gently grasped Corrine’s arm as they slowly navigated the steps. The temperature had plunged during the past few hours; their breath hung in the air in frosty puffs.

“Where can I take you?” Mitchell asked quietly.

“Not to Wimpole Street. Not to my father’s,” Corrine replied firmly.

“To a friend’s place, perhaps?”

“My nursing friends have no room to put me up. And as for my recent reacquaintance with my school chums, well, Celia has returned to Northern England, and Selena has enough problems without me adding to them.”

“Perhaps a hotel, then? The Savoy? Brown’s Hotel?”

“I prefer your suggestion of staying with friends. Do you and Drew have a spare room? Just for a night or two until I get my bearings.”

“Drew has a few rooms in the rear he will let in January. I’m certain he will allow you to stay there. It is a separate small flat.”

“Do you think he will? I would be ever so grateful.” Corrine looked down the street. “Wright is not still here? The poor man, waiting all this time.”