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Authors: Shelley Freydont

BOOK: A Golden Cage
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“Why?”

“Because if Rollie didn't kill Charlie—and I think we can be assured that he didn't—and Belle didn't kill Charlie—”

“She would never.”

“Never,” echoed around the group, except for Talia, who remained tight-lipped and frowning daggers at Noreen.

“Then,” Noreen continued, “the murderer is still out there. And he—or she—may be planning to kill Belle next. Or even one of us.”

*   *   *

J
oe turned from the mantel and walked back to the drinks table, a path that he'd been treading for the past twenty minutes. He should have insisted on going with Noreen and Dee in the cab. No telling what they would concoct alone together. “It shouldn't be taking this long to pack up a few belongings and come to Bonheur.”

Will sat with a glass of whiskey at his elbow. “Gran Gwen? Is this an inordinate amount of time for a woman to spend packing?”

Gwen shrugged. “She's an actress. I imagine she's had
occasion more than once to throw her things into a case and climb out a hotel window to escape payment. Those tours are notorious for stranding actors in towns miles from anywhere and without a penny to their names.”

“Does that mean yes?” Joe asked.

“Really, Joseph, your manners.”

“Sorry, Grandmère, but . . .”

“I know, and if you're worried about Dee, I think you and Will should take a carriage and go look for them.”

“You're worried, too.”

“Not really, but there is possibly a killer loose out there. I would hate to be sitting here sipping sherry when Dee might be in danger. What would I tell her mother?”

“You might make light of this, but I think we should go.”

Will was on his feet and they were headed to the door when the sound of a carriage stopped them. Joe hurried to the bay window and looked out. “It's them.”

Will returned to his chair and picked up his glass. Joe went back to the mantelpiece and his own glass.

A few minutes later, Noreen and Deanna entered the parlor.

Will stood; Joe faced the doorway.

“Sorry we took so long. We dropped Noreen's things off at the hotel on our way.”

“Gran Gwen,” Deanna said, “this is Noreen Adams.”

Gran offered her hand. “Joseph has told me about you. I'm so happy that you've joined us.”

Noreen barely hesitated before she extended her own hand. “Thank you, though I'm afraid this business has interfered with your evening at home.”

“Nonsense, dinner will be served soon. You don't mind an early dinner, do you, Miss Adams?”

“No, not at all, but you really needn't include me. I've only come at the police sergeant's insistence.”

“We're delighted to have you. Aren't we, Deanna?”

“Yes, and besides, I can't wait until after Will's interrogation to eat. I'm starving. I haven't had a thing since breakfast. And I'm sorry I didn't get back in time for luncheon and the afternoon drive, but I've been rather busy.”

“I can imagine,” Gwen said. “Joseph, pour Deanna and Miss Adams a sherry.”

Since Gran Gwen refused to discuss investigations, arrests, or sordid news items at the table—bad for the digestion and a slap in the face to Cook—dinner was an enjoyable affair. Noreen was encouraged to talk about her work and her little girl. Stories of Joe, Will, and Deanna's brother, Bob, growing up on the island were recounted. As well as all the tricks they played on Deanna, incidents which were somewhat embarrassing to her, but the memories made it feel like happier times.

“I can tell they are all very fond of you,” Noreen said to Deanna as they repaired upstairs after dinner. “I envy you that.”

“Well, we were friends once. Then our fathers, Joe's and mine—decided we should get married. Consolidate the family fortunes.”

“And you refused?”

Deanna shook her head. “I didn't have time to. Joe never even asked me, but moved to the Fifth Ward to his warehouse to work on his inventions.”

“Oh dear, a humiliation?”

Deanna shrugged. “Only to my mother.”

“Ah. Well, if you want him, I wouldn't give up. Men are . . . what am I saying? I have no idea. I made a terrible mess of things. But Joseph has a passion for his work, it's very clear.”

“I know. Of that I'm a little jealous.”

“Because you think he has no room for you?”

“Oh no. It's because I don't have an all-consuming passion myself.”

Noreen broke into her throaty laugh. “I have no doubt that you will find one. Now we had better go back to face the music or they'll think we ran off again.”

But when they came downstairs Gran Gwen was sitting alone in the conservatory.

Deanna couldn't repress a shudder as she and Noreen walked down the carpeted flagstone to where she was sitting in a high-back chair.

“Joseph and William are outside. I suspect Will has taken up a pipe and Joseph insisted that he show him the terrain that was searched the other morning. So we're quite at our leisure for a bit. However, they fully intend on talking with you both, which Will said very sternly, so shall I assume you have knowledge they don't and are refusing to tell them?”

“Yes, Gran Gwen.” Deanna glanced at Noreen. “At least I do, but I promised not to tell. But I did manage to retrieve these. She pulled out the handkerchief that she had tied the earrings into and untied it before presenting it to Gran Gwen.

“My, my. Where on earth did you find these?” Gwen glanced at Deanna. “Or is that one of the things you promised not to tell?”

“Yes, but she's sorry. She says she was desperate.”

Noreen leaned over to see what was in the handkerchief. “They're real?”

“Yes,” Gwen said. “And of much sentimental value.”

“Oh, Gran Gwen. I'm in such a fix. Will is going to ask me all sorts of questions that I promised not to tell.”

Noreen nodded. She looked from Deanna to Gwen. “I don't think any of us realized . . . I still don't understand what happened.”

“Neither do we,” Will said, striding into the room from the outside. Joe was right behind him.

Deanna noticed that Gran Gwen quickly folded the handkerchief and held it in her lap.

“Well, gentlemen, did you find any elucidating evidence that you missed before?” Gwen asked.

Chapter
18

“N
o,” Will said, sitting down. “Not that I expected to. We made a thorough search that morning. Found nothing then. More of the same tonight.”

“You'd expect to find churned-up sod,” Deanna added.

Will gave her a tired look. “Have you been mucking about in my crime scene?” He shrugged. “You're correct. I don't think there was a struggle. My theory is, someone sneaked up on the victim when he was standing in the trees. On Saturday morning you could see where heels had been pulled across the lawn. The marks are gone now.” He smiled fleetingly at Gran Gwen. “Thanks to the diligence of the Bonheur gardeners.”

“Oh, I am sorry, Will,” Gwen said. “I didn't think to tell them not to work.”

“Not at all. We had finished up there.”

“But did you find a murder weapon?” Deanna asked.

Will shook his head. “I shouldn't be discussing this, but
they have a suspect in custody, and they're ready to write off Amabelle Deeks as missing or dead.”

“Why? Just because—” Deanna bit off the next words.

“Just because what?”

“Just because she isn't here to defend herself.”

“She really needs to do that. Because if she is alive and she's deliberately hiding out, she'll be in big trouble. Might even go to prison.”

“Stop it,” Noreen snapped.

Deanna held her breath.
Don't tell. Don't tell.

“Those third-degree tactics don't become you, sergeant.”

Will threw up his hands, stood up, and walked halfway across the room. “If you think this is the third degree, you're mightily mistaken. And I'm only trying to help your friend. Pretty soon it's going to be out of my hands. And the powers that be will railroad your friend Rollie right to prison. And they will make certain that a few choice inmates know exactly what he is.”

Deanna stopped breathing halfway through his tirade. She'd never, ever, seen Will lose his temper like this before.

“You don't know what you're talking about,” said Noreen. “And you're just like the rest, picking out the weakest in the herd and bullying them until they agree to anything you say. All this talk about wanting to help—ha! You just want to save your own—” She clamped a hand over her mouth. Turned to Gran Gwen. “I beg your pardon. I forget myself. Thank you for your hospitality, but I really must end the evening now.”

She stood, bowed slightly toward Gwen, and walked toward the archway.

Joe had risen automatically.

Will clapped his hands. Once. Making both Gwen and
Deanna jump. Twice. Three times. Slowly. methodically. Each sound echoing to silence. “Very dramatic.”

Noreen had reached the archway; she turned around. “You disgust me!”

Deanna blinked, looked at Will. He looked stunned.

“She's leaving,” Joe said.

“Well, see to it that Carlisle has the carriage brought round,” Gwen said.

Joe hesitated. Looked at Will, then followed Noreen out.

“I'd better . . .” Deanna hurried after him. She was barely aware of Will beginning to apologize to Gran Gwen.

Noreen was standing in the drive, Joe at her side, both mute.

He gave Deanna an anguished look. “The carriage is coming round from the stable.”

Deanna nodded. “We'll be fine.”

Joe practically fled back inside.

Deanna didn't know quite what to do. She'd been taught never to show excess emotions, to always be in control, to look the other way when necessary. But this—her heart was pounding, just like she'd actually felt Noreen's anger herself. And her hurt.

Deanna came to stand beside her. “Are you all right?”

Noreen wiped beneath her eyes, neatly using two fingers, and Deanna thought it must be a technique for not messing up stage makeup.

“Noreen?”

Noreen cut her a sideways glance. Took a deep breath. “I got a little carried away. Sometimes that happens, something hits a little place inside that you've neatly hidden away. It makes for good theater but, whew! I'll have to apologize to your sergeant, but not tonight.

“Though I must say, I didn't expect that attitude from him
for some reason. And it gave me a perfect excuse to take over the scene.” She turned to Deanna and smiled. “I think you should just go upstairs and not talk to them tonight. It will give me time to see if I can find out anything more from the others. Then you can either warn Belle or turn her in.”

“And you?”

“If they drag me screaming from my bed tonight . . .” She smiled, but wanly. “I'll expect you to come pay my bail.”

“I will, but I'm going to tell Belle that she has to turn herself in or I will.”

The carriage came through the gates and stopped at the entrance.

Noreen climbed in. “Do what you must, and thank Gwendolyn for the lovely dinner. Please tell her I'm very sorry for my bad manners.”

“Don't worry, when Joe and I fight, she always says she enjoys a good squabble.”

Noreen chuckled, and the carriage drove away.

Deanna turned back to the house. She was confused about what she should do. Was she shielding a murderer? But hadn't they already decided that the killer must have dragged Charlie's body across the lawn to the house? Belle couldn't have done that.

She didn't know how she was to get upstairs without being called out. Joe was probably standing just inside the door, she thought, but he wasn't, and she climbed the stairs without interruption.

As soon as she was in her room, she called for Elspeth.

She was breathing hard when she came into Deanna's room. “I was in the kitchen. What's the matter? Are you ill?”

Deanna shook her head. “There was such a scene.”

“Oh, miss. Have you and Mr. Joseph been going tooth and nail again?”

“No. Noreen and Will.”

Elspeth's mouth dropped open. “In front of everybody?”

“In the parlor after dinner. She went from charming to outraged in the blink of an eye. She stood there, framed in the archway like a painting, mesmerizing us all . . .
The Wrath of the Valkyrie Queen
.”

“Huh?”

“Then she stormed out and Joe ran after her to call for the carriage. Will just stood there.”

“What was she so upset by?”

“I'm not sure. Will kind of threatened her. I've never seen that side of him before.”

“Probably because you've never seen him putting the kibosh on anybody.”

Deanna shrugged. “I think it really upset her, but by the time I went out to see about her, she'd mostly recovered and acted like it was all an act to disrupt the questioning. She told me to come upstairs instead of going back into the parlor.”

“She was working them.”

“Yes, but I think part of it was real. Like she . . . I don't know. Like she started out acting and it turned into something else.”

“Huh.”

Deanna sank into the slipper chair by the window. “I don't know what to do. Noreen said to wait and she'd try to learn more from the others, but I don't know. I'm withholding evidence.”

“Well, we don't exactly know that Belle is evidence. You said that she didn't even know poor Charlie was dead.”

“So she said.”

“She also said she would be okay. Soon. It was like she knew she could get help.”

“I hope she wasn't counting on that Rollie fella. She'll have a long wait if she was.”

“If she was, what was she doing at the docks? Timothy said he saw her at the docks. He meant the wharf. Where the ferry comes in. Passengers were disembarking. What else is down there?”

“There are some establishments. Maybe she was scrounging for food.”

“In the daylight, when hundreds of people are just arriving in town?”

Deanna nibbled on her thumbnail.

“Stop that.”

Deanna put her hand down. “Why do you go to the ferry just when it arrives?”

“Maybe she was going to stow away?”

“I think she was meeting someone.”

“Well, she didn't meet anybody, 'cause that actor Timothy said she ran when she saw him. Well, he said he
thought
he saw her. And you can't trust what any man who's been out carousing all night sees or says.”

“Really,” Deanna said. “It seems to me that a lot of men seem to go out carousing more than they stay home.”

“I expect not like that Timothy goes out. Maybe Noreen will be able to get more out of him when he doesn't have an audience.”

“Because he didn't trust us,” Deanna said.

“That, and because I also suspect that he ain't saying anything to anybody about where he was. Not if he doesn't want to end up in the cell next to Rollie.”

“Him, too?”

“I don't know. I just know it goes on.”

“Here in Newport?”

“In Newport, too.”

There was a tap at the door.

Elspeth and Deanna exchanged looks. Elspeth went to answer it.

Gran Gwen stepped into the room. She looked very imperious to Deanna, who got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She stood.

Gwen walked over and sat in the chair Deanna had just left. “Don't leave, Elspeth.”

Elspeth, who had tiptoed halfway to the dressing room, stopped and reluctantly came back to stand before her.

“Now, sit down and tell me what you can, and we'll try to get us all out of this mess. Beginning with Noreen. Was that outburst real or feigned?”

Deanna told Gran Gwen what she had told Elspeth.

“Good actors,” Gwen said, “can tap into those places of reality; that's what makes them great, and next to impossible to live with. She'll have a good career with a little luck. I wasn't sure.”

“What about Will and Joe?”

“Oh, men, they never get these things, especially when they're handled by someone as accomplished as Noreen. Unfortunately, Will is under a lot of pressure.”

“But it's only been a few days. He's good at what he does.”

“And that's half the problem. He only proceeds on evidence or what can be deducted from the evidence. Facts. His superiors must tread a fine line between law and politics. Sometimes facts and evidence are the last things they are concerned with.”

“And Mr. Edgerton is forcing them to arrest somebody?”

“Possibly. Why do you say that?”

“Because he threatened me at the Chepstow party.”

“Threatened you? Surely you misunderstood him.”

“I hope so. It was very uncomfortable.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'd just tried to say something nice to his wife, to make her feel better after what those women said.”

Gwen let out a guffaw of laughter, and Deanna felt the heat flood her cheeks.

“What on earth did you say?”

“That nobody listened to that kind of gossip and I thought their fete was lovely. She told me that I knew nothing about it. And then later Mr. Edgerton came up and told me to stay out of his family's business or he would make life rough for all of you. I've brought disgrace on us all.” She just heard Elspeth's snort of derision before she burst into tears.

“Now, dear, you've haven't done a thing wrong. You're just learning how to live in society. Trust me, you are navigating it very well, and you're just beginning to develop the tough skin every lady needs, but won't admit to having, in order to stay on top of the game.”

Deanna lifted her head just enough to see Gran Gwen's face.

“I insulted the Judge's daughter, failed to send out even one lure to a potential husband. I've ridden my bicycle against express orders from my mother, and I've lied to the police. Will will probably send me to jail, and then I will be a disgrace.”

“I doubt if he will go that far. But I think you must deal with this. So first thing in the morning, we will go to wherever this silly child has been hiding and tell her we're turning her
over to the police for her own protection. Then we'll tell Will. He is being pressured by the powers that be and you don't want to see him demoted because of something you didn't do.”

Deanna shook her head.

“Good, then after breakfast, we'll take the carriage and go rendezvous with Amabelle Deeks. Now, don't give it another thought. Everything will turn out as it should. Will has left, Joe's working on his drawings, and there's nothing more we can do until tomorrow. Good night, dear. Elspeth.”

Elspeth hurried to open the door for her. As soon as she closed it she said, “That Drusilla sounds like a right piece. Not very nice, they say.”

“She's unhappy,” Deanna said thoughtfully. “And who wouldn't be between her mother and father and her husband. I know I wouldn't want Walter Edgerton for a husband, though I shouldn't say so.”

“Maybe he doesn't treat her right.”

“He's very upright.” Deanna turned around for Elspeth to undo her dress.

“Humph. Those kind are the ones that take a little on the side.”

Deanna stepped out of the dress. “To listen to you, one would think that no husbands are faithful to their wives.”

Elspeth gave her a look before she slipped a white lace–trimmed nightgown over Deanna's head. While Elspeth carried her gown to the dressing room to hang it up, Deanna sat down at the vanity and scrutinized herself in the mirror. She wondered what people thought when they saw her. What men thought.

Elspeth came out, crossed to the table, and began unpinning Deanna's hair. “I'm not saying this one does. But my ma
says when a wife is so sour, her husband looks elsewhere for something sweet.” Elspeth raised her eyebrows comically. “Like an actress, maybe.”

Deanna raised her eyebrows back at her.

“Well, they're known for their loose morals.”

“I know that's what people think,” Deanna asked. “But do you think it's true?”

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