“Nice has nothing to do with it,” Wick said grimly. “He was around when all the attacks happened. If he is indeed Grigg’s son, then he has motive as well: revenge for his father.”
“In my inquiries, I encountered the name Varnum.” Lugo had removed a small notebook from his burgundy frock coat and was flipping through the pages. “Ah, yes. Varnum was the married surname of Mrs. Grigg’s sister, with whom she and her son stayed for some time after her husband’s death.”
“That can’t be a coincidence.” Certainty filled Wick. “Frank Varnum and Thomas Franklin Grigg must be one and the same, which makes Varnum our most likely suspect.”
Bea gnawed on her lip. “You’re right, even though I wish you weren’t.”
“You’ve a tender heart, angel.” Wick placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “But you mustn’t forget what this villain has done and what he’s capable of.”
“I’ll need another few days to follow the trail of Thomas Franklin Grigg,” Lugo said. “I should then be able to confirm whether or not he is indeed this Frank Varnum of which you speak. In the meantime, I urge you to alert those on your estate of the possible connection. Better safe than sorry.”
“Thank you, sir.” Beatrice nodded. “That is excellent advice.”
“We have one suspect, a very likely one, but I will continue to pursue other leads as well. There may be other persons with intimate connections to Grigg who have reason to do you harm. I will return in a few days’ time.”
“You have my gratitude, for not only taking on my case, but doing it so expeditiously.”
“It is my pleasure, my lady. Any friend of the Kent family is a friend of mine. And I have more reason than one to close this case quickly.” Mr. Lugo flashed a smile, dazzling in its brevity. “Mrs. Lugo tells me she will proceed on vacation without me if I do not complete the investigation in a timely manner.”
“Please express my sincere gratitude to her as well,” Bea said warmly.
The investigator bowed and left.
Wick joined Bea on the settee. “At least we’re making progress.”
“I still cannot believe Mr. Varnum is behind these attacks, but I must write Gentleman Henderson immediately.” Her brow lined with worry, her hands clasping in her lap. “Now that we know who the villain is, I need to return to Camden Manor. I don’t feel right being here while Mr. Varnum could launch another attack at any time.”
Wick’s jaw tautened, her words reminding him of the conversation they had to have. The one that Mr. Lugo’s revelations had delayed and, at the same time, made even more necessary.
“I don’t want you to travel without me,” he said firmly. “It’s too dangerous. And while Varnum is the most likely suspect, Lugo still needs time to confirm that he is, indeed, Grigg’s son and to investigate any other leads. Waiting a few more days for Lugo’s findings seems prudent.”
Her chin rose to a mutinous angle. “All the same, I feel like I should go home.”
He didn’t have time for another argument. He had to take the bull by the horns.
“I cannot escort you at the moment. Not with what is going on here,” he said bluntly.
Remorse filled her lavender eyes. “I’m being dreadfully selfish. Of course, you cannot leave. How…how bad was it at the office?”
“It wasn’t pretty.” He met her gaze squarely. “Some investors are panicking and trying to sell their shares, which means prices are starting to dip. We need to issue a statement that we will start building the railway as planned—or the panic will turn into widespread pandemonium. Then shares will go down…and perhaps our company with them.”
“But how can you make that statement without Mr. Norton’s verdict?”
He hated himself for what he had to ask of her.
“I need to ask you to sell your estate to GLNR,” he said.
Silence tautened between them.
“You said that you would not ask that of me.” She looked bewildered. “That the choice would be mine.”
“I know I said that. But circumstances…have changed.” He forced himself to go on, even as hurt spread like ink through her clear eyes. “The company is depending upon me, and I have to do the right thing. We can offer you money, Beatrice, enough to buy another estate anywhere you want—”
“I don’t want another estate. You know what Camden Manor means to me,” she whispered. “How can you ask this of me when you promised you would not?”
He had no answer for her. She was right. He was breaking his word to her, violating his code of honor, proving himself to be the failure he’d always been.
“I…” He felt walls closing around him. “Just forget I asked.”
