A Treasured Little Murder: A Violet Carlyle Cozy Historical Mystery (The Violet Carlyle Mysteries Book 23) by Beth Byers

Author:Beth Byers [Byers, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2020-07-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The drive to Philip Russell’s home was utterly silent except for the murmuring of Rita. She had taken the auto that her father bought Ham around the wedding, and her fingers moved over the steering wheel as though she were choking her husband.

“You and Ham must have had a rough night?” Vi ventured to ask.

Rita snarled and admitted, “Not really. But then Ham was furious this morning because someone tried to rob us as well. He took it out on me.”

“Did he?” Vi asked, betting that he hadn’t.

“Well—”

Vi lifted a brow and Rita snarled again.

“Headache?”

Rita’s reply was a sniff.

“Did Ham cater to you? Bring you aspirin, let you linger in bed, and worry over the goblet and the house breaker?”

Rita’s meek expression was answer enough.

Vi laughed.

“Shut up.”

“You know you’re going to have to apologize.”

“I’m a horrible brat, and I don’t want to.”

Vi laughed harder, then stopped suddenly. She rubbed her brow and muttered low, “Also, my head still hurts. The aspirin only took the edge off of my headache.”

“How did you know that Ham was all…caring and kind this morning?”

Vi’s mocking glance was a sufficient reply.

“So Jack looked after you?”

“He often does.”

“It doesn’t feel smothering?”

“No,” Vi said, “but I was rather used to having a kind and loving man look after me before this. I look after him as well.”

“It is suffocating.”

“Perhaps you’re a little—”

“Wrong?” Rita snapped. “I know I am.”

Vi’s laugh was not the reply that Rita wanted. The drive descended into silence with occasional chuckles from Vi that only escalated Rita’s frustration. By the time they arrived at Philip Russell’s home, Rita’s cheeks were flushed and she had moved to muttering low and viciously, mostly in self-recriminations.

Her father’s butler, Baldwin, answered the door and smiled with delight, only to see her expression and then smooth his face into careful evenness.

“I’m sure Mr. Russell will be delighted you’ve come so quickly.”

Rita stepped into the house and then frowned, turning back to the butler. “So quickly?”

“Mr. Russell sent a message to ask you and Mr. Barnes to come. There was a bit of a ruckus last night.”

“A break-in?” Vi guessed.

“Indeed,” Baldwin said, looking shocked. “How did you know?”

“We both experienced the same,” Rita said, moving deeper into the house. She opened the door to her father’s office and greeted him.

“Coffee, please,” Vi told Baldwin. “She’s feeling a bit under the weather and I think coffee might prevent her from murdering us outright.”

Baldwin nodded without expression and Vi winked at him, trying for a reaction. Nothing.

“You win this time,” Vi told Baldwin. “But I’m making it my goal to get a reaction out of you.”

“Of course, ma’am,” he told her as though she’d commented on the weather.

Vi followed Rita into Mr. Russell’s office and smiled winningly at him. He was in nearly as foul a mood as his daughter. She entered just in time to hear, “—you done? You’re playing games with a criminal and here we are again wrapped up in danger.”

“You’re blaming me?” Rita had moved from inexplicably furious to a volcanic rage.

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