Her gaze flicked briefly toward the bar before returning to me.
“That house doesn’t see visitors often,” she went on. “When someone stops there, it’s noticed. I’ve worked here for twenty years. I know when people start whispering of trouble.”
Her eyes shifted back to Rosalynd and lingered. “And that house…it saw more shadows this winter than any empty place ought to.”
Every muscle in my body tightened. “Explain.”
She took a breath, weighing whether to continue. “Sometimes it was dark for weeks. Other nights, lamps burned in multiple rooms. Men came and went. Sometimes one, other times more. None were the caretaker.”
“Any young girls with them?”
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Yes. Most of them would not cause a second glance. But there was one…”
Emotion surged through Rosalynd, but I kept my focus on the serving maid.
“Describe the girl.”
“She looked…thin. Frightened. She had bruises on her face. Didn’t move right.” The woman’s voice softened. “That’s when I stopped looking. Some things you don’t want to know.”
Rosalynd’s breath caught. I reached for her hand beneath the table—subtle, grounding.
“What time of year?” I asked.
“Early March. Cold as sin. That’s all I recall.”
She straightened, her decision made. “The place felt wrong. That’s all I’ll say.” Before we could question her further, she placed the bowls of stew in front of us and walked away.
For a moment, Rosalynd and I sat in silence, the pub’s voices a dim murmur behind us.
“That girl,” she whispered. “She was alive.”
“For a time,” I said.
Her eyes lifted to mine, bright with determination and fear intertwined. “We cannot stop.”
“We won’t,” I said. “But we must proceed carefully. Whoever used Riversgate had access, resources, and a way to disappear without a trace.”
“And the caretaker?”
“We find him,” I said. “I will ask Finch to search for him and every tradesman who serviced that house this winter. Someone will know something about what happened there, including the caretaker.”
She nodded, steadying herself with a sip of tea. Her fingers trembled slightly.
I forced myself to stay calm, to project control even as fury churned under my ribs.
This was no longer a question of missing girls.
This was a coordinated operation.
And we had just uncovered our first living witness—even if she did not know the girl’s name.
Rosalynd exhaled slowly. “We’re closer.”
“Yes.” I met her gaze. “Closer than we have been.”
In that moment, I knew one thing with perfect clarity—whoever ran this network would not let us remain close for long.
Chapter
