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Clementine frowned at him. “What do you know about that?”
“Just that a perfectly healthy woman has been found dead, that’s all,” Moss soothed. “What have you heard?”
“The same.”
“Which is why you are visiting everyone.”
“I just popped in to have a quiet word with Mrs Saunders, that’s all.”
“You were trying to find out if she saw you enter the house this morning.”
“No.”
“Oh, I think you were,” Moss corrected smoothly. “But one has to wonder why.”
“Why what?”
“Why you need to find out what Mrs Saunders has seen? What do you intend to do now that the Captain and myself have seen you?” Moss challenged.
“I have nothing to hide.” Clementine hated the way he was studying her far too closely to be polite. “Do you know, from your tone one would be inclined to think that you suspect I had something to do with Sally’s death?”
“Well, you were the last one to see her alive,” Moss replied with a nonchalant shrug.
“That doesn’t mean I had anything to do with her death. She died of natural causes apparently.” It wasn’t until she had finished talking that Clementine realised how much the fading of her voice when she had finished her sentence sounded like uncertainty.
“Did she give you that pertinent information? Mrs Saunders, that is? Did you ask her if she had seen you enter Sally’s house?””
Clementine’s mouth fell open for a moment while she tried to summon up an answer. When she couldn’t think of anything to say, she snapped it closed again.
“We were just chatting, all right?” Clementine gasped. “Is neighbourly concern a bad thing? She must have been upset to find her neighbour dead. I just wanted to see if she was all right. We were both discussing just how well Sally had been yesterday when we had both seen her alive.”
“I would ordinarily be inclined to believe your protestations of innocence,” Moss warned hesitantly.
Inwardly, a small voice was screaming at him to shut up before she slapped his face in outrage, but Moss wanted to keep goading her not least because he couldn’t forget just how furtive she had looked when she had left the house this morning. It looked suspicious even to him, and he didn’t live in the village and survive on gossip like the locals did, especially Mrs Saunders. Clementine was risking being the focus of some nasty gossip if she carried on hanging around the deceased woman’s residence like she was. Moss felt he had a duty to warn Clementine just how much of a risk she was putting herself in.
Where this protective instinct toward her has come from God only knows, but I must do something.
Clementine glared at him. “What do you mean ‘ordinarily’?”
Moss had been a private investigator for what felt like all his life. He knew how people behaved, and Clementine was keeping secrets. For his own peace of mind, Moss had to find out what they were – all of them. Then he could decide if he was ever going to be able to walk away from Miss Clementine Marlborough and forget about her, or if he had to do something about this driving need to be with her.
Preferably before it drives me out of my mind with worry.
Moss leaned toward her until his lips brushed her ear. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “I know you are lying.”
When he drew breath, the delicate scent of roses teased his nose. It reminded him of warm summer sunshine and made him want to step closer and savour every precious moment of the warmth it brought him. Instead, Moss forced himself to step back and allow her to resume her journey home.
“A lady never lies,” Clementine snapped.
“So, tell me what you were really up to in her house,” Moss urged.
“I have told you. Tidying up.”
“Why were you so furtive?”
“You scared me, that’s all.”
Moss was impressed by her ability to stick to her fabrications, regardless of the building evidence against her.
