“Relatively.” She shrugged. “Within the past few weeks.”
That was news. Why had he not heard of it? He steepled his fingers. “What do you know?”
“Mr. Blade was the chief financial officer at Willis, Percival & Company, the same employer as the missing fellow I’m looking for. His boss, actually. I had hoped to question Mr. Blade, but turns out he’s gone as well. Permanently, that is.”
“Mmm,” he drawled. “And you think the two are connected. Do you suppose your missing man is responsible for Mr. Blade’s death?”
“Could be. Too soon to tell.” She leaned back in her chair. “I need more information, and that’s where you come in. Would you work your magic and see what you can find out?”
Pah! He didn’t have time to dig into another case, but how to refuse those hopeful blue eyes blinking at him? “Where was he murdered?”
“Near Westminster.”
Perfect, leastwise to legitimately turn her down. “Sorry, love.” He spread his hands. “You know that’s out of my jurisdiction.”
“That’s never stopped one of your investigations before.”
“This isn’t my investigation.”
“True, but it is your wife’s, and are we not one?” She tipped her chin to a rakish angle.
Saucy wench.
A lung-deflating sigh ripped out of him. “Very well. But I’m not promising anything soon. As you know, I’m in over my head here.”
“I know.” She rounded the desk and leaned in close, her breath soft against his brow as she whispered, “But you, my sweet, are a champion swimmer.”
Hang the time and place! He pulled her into his lap and kissed her long and hard enough that she pulled away breathless.
“Well, if this is how you conduct business, sir, there will be more than the devil to pay.”
He quirked one brow. “Is that my cue to talk about your adorable nostrils?”
“I should hope you find more than my nose to appreciate.” She smirked as she rose. “See you at supper.”
He admired her fine form all the way to the door, then cherished the memory of her lips against his for a moment longer before digging back into the Bellow file.
Now then, where was he? Ahh yes, the anomaly of a grievance filed by a proxy. Turns out the woman who brought the charges bore the same last name of the deceased man in the case. Wife? Mother, perhaps? A relative, at any rate, one who claimed the dead employee had warned of mismanagement in the storage of supplies, some of which were volatile. She accused Bellow for the accident that resulted in the man’s death—a direct result of exposure to those very same chemicals.
Jackson rubbed little circles on his temple, thinking hard. Bellow couldn’t be blamed for an accident, for in essence the very word implied no one was to be liable, but improperly stored dangerous supplies? Now that was something he could check into. Maybe stop by the place. Make a few enquiries. And if he did turn up anything, file for an investigation with the factory inspector overseeing that district.
Lacing his fingers behind his neck, he leaned back in his chair, already devising the best way to nose about that warehouse without raising any hackles—when he spied the file cabinets. Twin towers of doom, more like. Thunderation. He couldn’t tackle the glassworks for Baggett and reorganize the years of files at the same time. Still, he did owe his friend for saving his hide so many times, when—as a rookie—it was Baggett alone who’d believed in him. And yet he also owed allegiance to his new superior, to completing the task Hammerhead had assigned, due in a fortnight.
He closed his eyes beneath the weight of it all. And if that weren’t enough, there was Kit and the murder she wished him to investigate…in a jurisdiction not his own.
Blast.
He wasn’t merely stuck between a rock and a hard place. He was slowly being buried alive, boulder by boulder.
Days like these, when she spun about like a crazed marble in a boy’s pickup game, Kit couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing the right thing by working so many hours. As much as she loved the thrill of working on a case, she missed cuddling her sweet babe. She yearned to kiss Bella’s chubby cheeks and breathe in her warm, yeasty scent…which would be a definite improvement over the stink of blood and offal wafting from the butcher next to their new agency. Kit held her breath as she shoved open the office door.
But it didn’t smell much better in here. Had her father even bathed in the last several days? She doffed her bonnet then crossed the room to where he stood with his back towards her, staring at a mess of cards and strings tacked to the wall. Whatever he was working on surely mesmerized him.
She pursed her lips as she studied the geometric pattern. “Very pretty.”
He speared her with a scowl, his bushy brows gathering like a storm. “You’re late this morning. I thought we were to be partners.”
“I had a few stops to make first, none of which were very fruitful. Say, speaking of partners, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind looking into something for me, that is, if you’re not too busy working on this art project.” She circled her hand at the makeshift case board on the wall.
