“Mm-hmm. He felt as if the entire town had him in its sights. He knew the law targeted him.”
“How’s that?”
“They called it Lily’s Law.”
Chapter Thirty
Martin Cabot did not acknowledge Victorine’s presence when she joined him in the dining room. He stared morosely at the meal he had only picked at. The roast was still hot. The aroma teased him but he had no appetite for it or the potatoes. He pushed the carrots around before he finally stabbed one and carried it to his mouth.
“For God’s sake,” said Victorine. “What is wrong with you?” She swept her skirt aside, sat opposite him, and spread a napkin across what passed for her lap. She might have glowered at her swollen belly if other diners weren’t glancing in her direction. Raising a hand, she gestured to the waitress who was setting down beer at another table. When the young woman finally attended her, Victorine ordered the special and curtly waved her away. “Well?” she asked. Her pointed, impatient expression was lost on Martin because he still didn’t look up. She picked up her fork and tapped the tines against the edge of his plate.
Martin looked up, annoyed and not pretending that he wasn’t. “I didn’t invite you to sit here.”
“As I’m ultimately paying for your meal, I’ll sit here if I like, and I like knowing that sitting here is an aggravation to you. There is so little in Frost Falls that gives me pleasure, I take it where I can.” She withdrew her fork. “Now, what is it? Something to do with Roen Shepard?”
Rather than answering, Martin posed a question of his own. “Why are you still here, Miss Headley? It’s been every bit of ten days since I told you all there is to know about Shepard and his wife, and you’ve not spoken to him since.You’ve made no overture to Mrs. Shepard either. What is your purpose for staying here?”
“That’s my business, isn’t it? Do you have somewhere to be? Another job waiting for you back in New York?”
He shook his head.
“I’m paying you well enough, am I not?” She didn’t wait for him to respond this time. “Your questions are of no account. Mine, however, are.”
Martin was saved from answering by the delivery of Victorine’s dinner.
Victorine watched the departure of the plump brunette and then turned her attention to her meal. “Mrs. Butterworth has finally seen fit to respond to my concerns about that little China girl. She hasn’t served me once all week, and I can say I am most appreciative. My digestive system is similarly grateful.”
“She’s gone,” Martin said flatly.
Victorine found her roast beef was fork tender. She lifted a piece to her mouth. “Who’s gone?”
Martin watched her take a bite and chew with a clear expression of enjoyment. She was oblivious to anything save her own needs and pleasures. He didn’t have the liberty of scowling at her so he relied on his perfectly dull features to keep her at a distance. It had been a mistake to allow her to see that he didn’t want her company.
“The China girl,” he said. “She’s been gone a week.”
“Hmm.” Victorine speared a trio of carrot medallions. “I hadn’t realized that was the case. Let go, I presume.”
“No. She left for another position.”
Victorine raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why do you know so much about it?”
“I was curious. I asked.” He’d actually followed Fedora the day after she didn’t show up at the hotel, but that was not something Victorine needed to know.
“Good riddance, I say. The hotel is much improved by her absence. She’s gone from Frost Falls, then?”
“Actually, no.”
“Not that I care in the least, but I can see that you want to tell me. I’ll bite. Where is she now?”
Martin didn’t believe for a moment that his countenance was communicating a desire to tell Victorine anything. She wanted to know what had become of Fedora to indulge her penchant for prying. “A family here in town hired her as their housekeeper.”
Victorine’s features were distorted by her revulsion. “Someonewantsher in their home? That is beyond my understanding.”
“You’re making that abundantly clear.”
Victorine replaced repugnance with a bland smile and continued eating. When Martin offered no other information, she had little choice but to ask for it. “So? You seem to know so much, where is she now?”
“Does it matter?”
