“Which mansion did you take that from?” He used a neutral tone, but she still reacted as if she’d been slapped.
“Which…mansion?”
“You entered three today, and a handful of others every other day this week.”
Her gaze met his, and it was his turn to suck in a breath. Her doe eyes—those unsettling, penetrating doe eyes—were narrowed to slits.
“And how would you know where I’ve been, Mr. Anderson?”
“Never mind the whys and hows. I’ve caught you?—”
“I mind them very much,” she interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. “I imagine most women would mind being followed.”
She faced him fully, her sharp chin jutting past her coat collar. But…it never did that. He realized with some surprise that the lamb was capable of anger. He ignored the dangerous prickle of doubt clouding his thoughts. He wouldn’t apologize for doing his job.
“Most thieves mind being caught red-handed.”
“What makes you think I stole it?”
“Didn’t you?”
“No.”
“Convince me.”
“That I didn’t steal?” She sputtered out a laugh. “Should I also convince you I didn’t steal this coat? The very stockings on my legs? Your questioning is flawed, detective.”
He kept a firm grasp on his thoughts, lest they stray at the mention of her legs. “How so?”
“Why don’t you ask me where the watch came from, not from where I took it?”
“All right. Where did the pocket watch come from?”
“From my father.”
“Does he know you’re selling it?”
“No.”
“Ah, then you’re selling it out of anger.”
She tilted her head to one side. “Why would I be angry with him?”
“Isn’t everyone angry with their father?” he joked, a bit too glibly.
“I hate my father,” the proprietor chimed in. “I say stick it to him and sell his watch.”
“Be quiet,” Emil snapped, and the man lifted his hands in the air.
Frustration rolled over Emil like a wave. Why wouldn’t she admit she’d been caught? It clicked a heartbeat later. She didn’t know he wasn’t going to report her. That he only had everyone’s best interests at heart. He took a deep breath and changed tack.
“Who the watch belongs to doesn’t really matter. What matters is my friend Mack.”
“Mr. Donnelly?”
“He and Mrs. West seem to value your friendship—against all odds, in my opinion—and they’d be upset if they had to pay your jail bond. Not to mention the headline might harm your Suffrage Society, as you so vehemently insisted when last we met.”
She studied him. “So?”
