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She wrapped her arm around his waist as she turned away from the grave. It was an indication she was ready to go.
Rex grabbed her overnight bag from where it sat in the grass, slinging it over his shoulder before pausing a moment. There was something special about being here. They were alone with the glorious countryside and the sky, and what he felt for her seemed somehow more immense here. He kept his arm around her as they walked down the path, between the lush green borders and the lichen-covered gravestones that went back centuries.
“Mrs. Amery will be so pleased when we arrive together. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“You should have been sure,” he replied gruffly.
“Well, I was rather demanding.”
When he glanced down, her expression was mischievous. “I’m not sure I agree, about Mrs. Amery being pleased. I rang her on the way up here and I’m not in her good books.”
“Why not?”
The confession was overdue, and the rest of the story had to be shared. It was a good place to begin. “As I mentioned last night, I sent a couple of people to check out the state of repair on the place and see what might need to be done immediately. I mean, after that business with you slipping on the staircase, it made me wonder.”
Carmen responded by chuckling. “Ah, yes. No wonder you’re in her bad books.”
“I know,” he said, resigned to the fact. “I’ve got a lot to learn.” He scarcely withdrew his arm from around her as they passed under the lych-gate.
“I like your car,” Carmen said as she settled into the passenger seat.
“You do?”
“Yes, it makes me feel safe.”
“That’s good.”
“The car, not you. I’m never safe with you, Rex.”
It was meant to be a joke, he knew that, but it was too close to the bone.
Rex turned the key in the ignition. He didn’t want to go to the manor, but he also didn’t want to talk to her in the car, where he couldn’t hold her and explain things properly. “We need to talk. If Mrs. Amery is expecting us for dinner, we’ll talk then.”
Then I get you out of there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THEY WERE CLOSE to the manor when his phone rang. Rex looked at the display and saw it was Jacobson. “Sorry, I have to take this. It might be important.”
Instead of putting it on speaker, he pulled over to the side of the road and brought the phone to his ear. “What have you got for me?”
“First up, I’m afraid your staff were a royal pain in the arse to deal with. Apparently they did everything bar getting the wagons in a circle. The housekeeper actually asked my men to leave. They’d only been there two hours.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry.”
“It’s one level of security check, I suppose.” Jacobson gave a wry laugh. “However, my men said the house really isn’t very secure at all. You need to look into that.”
Rex decided they definitely weren’t staying past dinner. “I will. Thank you. Anything they picked up among the staff at the manor?”
He could feel Carmen’s scrutiny. It was difficult to talk without letting some of it slip.
“They said it was hard to tell. The housekeeper turned into a rottweiler and stalked after them everywhere they went. Let’s just say the atmosphere wasn’t conducive to chatting. I’d recommend more overt tactics. They can go in again next week and question them directly, if you prepare the way.”
“I’ll consider that. What else?”
“Well, this was more worrying—your family solicitor was also very reluctant to share anything with me. I’d go so far as to say he deliberately avoided my calls and requests for access.”
Rex’s suspicions lit. Chris Montague. Could he have anything to do with it? Rex found it unnerving that he mistruste
