Ever After (E&M Investigations, Book 4) by Lena Bourne

Author:Lena Bourne [Bourne, Lena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

EVA

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Professor Laine asks suddenly.

We’re in one of the smaller lounges at the castle, more of a nook in a hallway between two other, larger and better heated lounges, and the tapestries on the walls aren’t doing much to keep the cold of the stone walls away. But the walls aren’t the reason that an icy shiver just ran down my spine.

“Why would you ask me that?” I snap at him and he smiles a knowing smile. Outside of my immediate family and closest friends no one knows yet. We haven’t even told the task force members yet. That was planned for after this conference.

“I’ve been a teacher for a long time,” he says. “I can spot a pregnant lady when I see one. I bet all this excitement isn’t doing wonders for your health. You should take care or you might lose it. You’re not young anymore, you know.”

Anger, I find, is one of those emotions I’m having more trouble controlling than I used to. And it’s boiling in my chest now. My face is hot and I bet red too, and it just grows hotter as he chuckles.

“Don’t blow,” he says. “It’s the most natural thing in the world.”

He’s reacting this way because he doesn’t like my questions. But how does he know I’m pregnant? Is he one of the recipients of my email last night? I did have a few from nuts who criticized everything about my books, including the lack of emphasis on physical evidence.

“How did you get on the outside of the wall to see that someone climbed in, Professor?” I ask in a rather too shrill voice. “And why didn’t you tell the police about it instead of wanting me to go see?”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s the same answer he gave me the first two times I asked him this. The second time he also accused me of being pregnant.

I had asked Mark if I could do this interview, thinking I might be able to get more out of the professor than he could, but it seems I was totally wrong.

“I don’t understand,” I say, giving it one final shot. “You wanted me to see it last night. Why are you pretending you don’t know anything about it now?”

His eyes are very beady, the irises like two small shiny buttons behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He checks if anyone’s listening to us. Apart from the police officer guarding the hallway that runs past this nook, no one is close enough to hear our conversation.

He leans forward and starts pulling something out of the breast pocket of his dark grey cotton shirt.

“Fine, I will trust you, even though you clearly don’t trust me,” he says in a whisper.

He’s holding a clear evidence bag in his hand, and inside it is a gold chain with a locket, or a pendant of some sort, hanging off it.

“I wasn’t outside the walls,” he says. “No one can go outside and I doubt you think I could climb over the wall.

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