“We’re here to inquire about this woman. Have you seen her in the last few days?”
Theo held out the newspaper for her to consider. A man stepped from behind a draped area in the back, eyeing Theo’s fine clothes. The woman gave a cursory glance at the image of Harriet and shook her head. “Never seen her,” she said carelessly.
“What about you, sir?” Theo turned to the man.
“Nope.” He shuffled a deck of cards between his hands. His nails were stained yellow. The walls around them were damp stone. Grace tried to breathe as her thoughts ricocheted. These were the kind of people who had given Walt the drugs that ensnared him.
She swallowed hard against the nausea, willing her compassion to rise.
These were people who had been ensnared, just like Walt.
Bloody hell, she absolutely hated drugs.
“Can I help you?” Someone sidled up behind them and Grace felt Theo stiffen. He moved imperceptibly closer to her. “I can’t believe you came down here alone,” Theodore said bitingly under his breath. “If I were your brother, I would have punched through a wall.”
She opened her hand within his, just barely enough for him to feel it. She quietly said, “Good thing you’re not.”
“Are you and the lady looking for a score?” the man asked. He had beady eyes and a smile that reminded Grace of a shark.
“No,” Theo said carefully, “but I’d pay handsomely for information.”
He dropped Grace’s hand and subtly brought out his wallet.
The man laughed with derision. “’Fraid you’re in the wrong place, then.”
He sauntered away.
Another man came close to them. His eyes were glassy, and his breath smelled like booze, but he said with concern, “You better get out of here. And for hell’s sake, put your cash away.” He staggered, steadying himself against a wall. “You’re practically begging to get mugged.”
“We just need someone to help us,” Theo said. “We’re looking for information about our friend.” Though the man could hardly see straight, Theo thrust the paper toward him.
“Who is she?” the man asked, squinting.
“Something’s happened to her. She met with someone here shortly beforehand. Please. If you know anything.”
“Sorry. I’ve never seen her.”
“I might have seen something,” a woman said, coming toward them. She was wearing a ragged satin dress that spilled across her curves. Her eyes were bright and lined with kohl, and she looked at Theo hungrily. “Let’s go this way and talk.”
Grace suddenly felt like they were in too deep of the bowels of the fair. She couldn’t see any daylight, and the smoke was making her eyes burn.
“This wasn’t a good idea,” Theo whispered into Grace’s hair. He glanced over his shoulder, then shepherded her toward the exit. Grace could feel the prickling presence on the back of her neck of someone following them. Theodore must have sensed it, too, because he subtly took her hand again and they quickened their steps.
This stretch of the tunnels had thinned, making Grace feel exposed. They turned, expecting to see the exit out into the fairgrounds.
Instead, it was an empty alcove.
The footsteps were approaching, and slowing. About to catch up to them.
Theo dropped her hand and brought out a switchblade from his pocket. He flipped it open, stepping in front of her just as their tail turned the corner.
Grace let out a gasp that ended in a sob.
She fell forward, not believing her eyes.
“Walt?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
