He nodded this time.
“So now you know what I can do,” Ellen added.
“I do.”
“You’re not sure that you believe me, but you’re willing to take a chance that I can help you with this case?”
He nodded. “Will you assist me with my enquiries, Miss Nightingale? Help clear your uncle’s name?”
If it meant Uncle Bram was no longer a suspect and the killer caught, then yes, she would.
“I can do this,” she said to her uncle. “I trust him to not tell anyone what I can do. Besides, who would believe him?”
“Very well. But remember what I said, Fletcher,” Uncle Bram said.
“I don’t take well to threats, Nightingale, but if it eases your mind, your niece is in no danger of exposure from me. I simply want to find a killer. If she helps with that, I would be grateful.”
Uncle Bram took her hand after those words and led her from the room, and Ellen had a strange feeling that something monumental had just happened. Her life was about to change completely, but she just wasn’t sure how.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
Gray had thought long and hard for four days about calling at 11 Crabbett Close. He’d spent that time following leads and getting nowhere. But the memory of what he’d talked to Ellen Nightingale and her uncle about in his office had stayed in his head.
Was it really possible she could see things as his aunt had claimed to?
It had shocked him when she told him of her vision of Gray standing over his grandfather’s grave, weeping. Gray had loved his grandfather. No one could have told her that.
Ellen Nightingale was intriguing. The fiery woman who’d protected her uncle and then said she’d help him.
When the carriage stopped in front of the Nightingale family home Gray climbed out. After instructing his driver to carry on around the circle until he was ready, he walked up the path and knocked on the front door.
“Good day to you, Detective Fletcher!” A voice said from over his shoulder.
“Hello, Mr. Greedy.” He raised a hand to the man who had told him he wasn’t right in the head if he believed the Nightingales anything but good folk.
“Good day to you, Detective Fletcher,” the housekeeper then said after opening the door. She raised a hand to Mr. Greedy too. “What can I do for you?”
“Could I speak to Miss Nightingale please, Miss Bud?”
“I’m right here, Bud. Step aside, and I’ll see what he wants,” a voice said.
The housekeeper moved, and there she was, Ellen Nightingale, looking lovely. So lovely he felt like someone was standing on his chest, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.
He battled down the need to smile and instead scowled.
“If you want to get information from people, if I may suggest a smile, Detective. That will work a great deal better than that expression,” Ellen said.
“I have no time to smile.”Why had he said that? She made him addled. “I am here to ask you to accompany me, Miss Nightingale.”
“Am I being arrested then?”
She wore multiple shades today. Pinks, grays, and greens all blended into patterns. It should be odd and yet on her it was perfect.
“No, of course not. I wish to have you with me when I go to the Nicholsons’ house. See if you can get anything from the family. They have requested I visit with them and give them an update on the case.”
Surprise had her mouth forming a perfect and kissable O. Not kissable.Damn.
“I thought you wanted me to come to the bookshop?”
