“Your front door was unlocked!”
“It’s still breaking in. You sent your dogs after us!”
Griffin laughed heartily. “Bungo and MacWomble? Worst they’d do is sit and look at you until you gave them a snack. You didn’t seriously think we were… You’re mad!”
“You locked poor Bungo up in your chicken coop!” Rhys said. “He was covered in bloody feathers by the time we got to him.”
“But we heard you in the wood, talking about getting money.”
“Money?” Griffin looked confused for a second and then seemed to connect the dots. “We thought if we found the diamond, you might give us a wee finder’s fee, that’s all. I swear it, Tom!”
Tom tsked. “You’ll have to ask the billionaire about that.” He closed his eyes a second. “Bollocks. The diamond—it’ll belong to him.”
“No,” Connor said faintly. “It wasn’t on the register. The valuers looked right past it, along with the rest of us. And wouldn’t matter if it was, if it guarantees you the funds to pay off your debts. The caveat is still there—you can stop the sale.” His voice weakened. “I think I need to stop talking now.”
“Yeah, take it easy, mate,” Tom said. “Help is coming.”
Tom met Amelia’s gaze with an expression somewhere betweenwhat the hellandthis changes everything. From the quick tracking of his pupils, she could almost see him recalibrating his future.
“You could stay here,” she said, speaking over the noise of multiple vehicles gunning up the drive, sirens wailing.
But do I want to? his eyes seemed to say.
He had a future laid out, if he wanted it. A home. A frame to put around his life. Amelia couldn’t help feeling envious. She’d always known a home was important to her, but it was only now, sitting here with a stranger’s blood drying on her hands, that she realized the absence of a home made her feel like she couldn’t visualize a future. She couldn’t put her life in a frame, give it edges, boundaries, context. She didn’t have a setting forher story. Not a Pemberley, but not even a Barton Cottage fromSense and Sensibility.
A cavernous groan sounded from the floor above them, much louder than the abbey’s regular noises. Amelia met Tom’s puzzled glance, and then they looked up. On the ceiling high above them, a crevice split open in the plaster molding, accompanied by a sharp crack. As Amelia watched, the fissure lengthened, creeping to the center of the ceiling. A plaster rosette flaked off and smashed to the tiles beside her, pulverizing into dust. Another moan, and the chandelier swayed, its crystal pendants tinkling, sending flickers of reflected daylight around the room.
“Get everyone out of the way!” Tom shouted, as a loud rumbling began.
Amelia dashed to help him move Connor, as Griffin and Rhys did the same with Duncan. Bits of plaster pelted them—roses, sashes, medallions. The rumbling grew into a roar and after one more great crack, the chandelier crashed onto the stairs and collapsed in a smashing, clanging heap.
A cloud of dust and debris swept over them. Tom and Amelia leaned over Connor until it settled.
“Seriously?” Griffin said, as the noise waned. “The bloody chandelier now?”
“Everyone okay?” Tom called, checking on Connor and looking over to the others. He grabbed Amelia’s hand. “And you? Are you okay?”
Amelia couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah,” she said, wiping grains of plaster from her eye. “I’m actually okay.”
Tom stared up in wonder, and Amelia followed his gaze. A huge hole had opened up in place of the chandelier. Through a gauze of dust, the dome at the top of the third story was visible.
“You’re a little late to the party, Miss H.,” Tom said. “But cheers for the thought.”
“Blimey!” Sergeant Kamdar said, arriving in the doorway. She planted her hands on her hips, looking around. “Seems things took a turn for the crazy, around here.”
Chapter 26
Amelia
Amelia swung on an old love seat in the folly, drawing a weird comfort from its rhythmic metallic squeak. She’d had a police interview, and an officer—aconstable—had salvaged her belongings from the car wreck. He’d offered her a ride to the village train station, in time to catch the late afternoon train to Bath. By nightfall she could be back on her itinerary, escaping into a little city she’d fantasized about since she was a young teen readingPersuasion. So why did the prospect leave her feeling … empty?
“I had a feeling I might find you here.”
Amelia started at Tom’s voice. He limped up the wide stone steps from the lawn, using an old walking stick for a crutch. His ankle was bandaged.
“Sorry, did I scare you?” he said, maneuvering around a fluted column.
“You should know by now that nothing scares me.” She grinned at the obvious lie. The jolt of surprise at seeing him was quickly followed by a surge of relief, and, once that passed, a full-body hit of attraction. The opposite of a jump-scare. A jump-happy-surprise, which made a nice change. “I figured this was the best place to keep out of everyone’s way. The sergeantsaid it was all a ‘right to-do,’ whatever that is.” Over at the abbey, visible through the topiary, only a couple of cops were in view, but at least a dozen more were on site—regular police, detectives, forensics… The paramedics had left with Connor and Duncan hours ago.
