Catherine's Intrigue by Paige Edwards

Author:Paige Edwards
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery;family;history;lineage;inheritance;travel;romance;clean;lds;mormon;wholesome;ballet;diary;journal;europe;ancestor;england;elizabethan;British
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2019-01-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Everything was gray: the sky, the street, and the Uber car that met Catherine and her party the next morning at the Bascombe train station. She wondered if Cinderella had experienced the same letdown after the ball. Nick had flown to Italy just hours after the gala, leaving her more confused than ever.

Rain clattered down the drainpipe beside her. She moved to stand beside Agent Davenport under the station roof and booted up her cell while Jack loaded their cases inside the back of the Uber SUV.

Once they were headed for the cottage, Catherine’s phone lit up with half a dozen texts. She briefly scrolled through, but none was from Nick. She opened Gillian’s.

At my gate. Had a fantastic time. Thanks for the invite. Two weeks until our trip to the Highlands. Can’t wait.

Catherine dropped her cell back into her tote, planning to read the rest of her texts later.

“Who was that?” her brother asked.

“Gillian.”

“Did she make her flight?” Jack turned halfway in his seat to meet her eyes.

She nodded just as their driver slammed on the brakes.

“Sorry about that,” the driver said.

Looking out her window, she saw the reason for their driver’s quick stop. A barricade of cones blocked their street. Two police cars were parked in front of the cottage. Apprehension knotted inside Catherine’s stomach.

Agent Davenport rolled down his window, a frown puckering his forehead as he surveyed the crowd huddled under an array of umbrellas outside their garden gate.

“I can’t take you any closer,” the driver said. “You’ll have to walk.”

With dread knotting her stomach, Catherine climbed out of the car. Maybe it was something normal, like a leaky gas line or a broken water main. But she had a niggling suspicion that was not the case.

Jack retrieved their luggage. Catherine pulled up her hood, and the three of them rolled their cases down the sidewalk with the ever-alert Agent Davenport at her side.

Amelia caught sight of them and broke away from their group of neighbors. The absence of Buggles told its own story. “Where have you been? The police want to talk to Jack. I didn’t have his mobile number, so I called yours.”

Catherine’s dread deepened.

“What’s all the fuss about?” Jack let go of his luggage.

“You were robbed.” Amelia flapped her hands.

Catherine stiffened. This was one too many incidents.

“I went to water your plants this morning and found the butler’s pantry window broken,” Amelia said quietly.

“The glass panes were loose,” Jack said.

“Glass doesn’t cut itself in a perfect circle and fall to the floor.” Amelia’s mouth twisted.

A low buzzing started in Catherine’s ears. Enough was enough. She was sick of being a victim. Tossing up her chin, she started forward, proverbially rolling up her sleeves.

“Not any closer until I confer with the DCI and have a look around,” Agent Davenport said under his breath.

Catherine scowled at him, silently seething. Davenport’s mild eyes held hers.

“Okay.” She huffed in frustration.

One of the policemen approached. DCI Barnes introduced himself, and Agent Davenport flashed his badge. The men turned aside, conversing away from civilian ears.

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