Saffron propped her hands on her hips. “And yet you believe your brother, who is tasked with manure analysis and tracking down grain fungi, is a spy.”
“So youdothink Alexander is also wrapped up in government conspiracy,” Elizabeth said sweetly.
Perhaps Saffron was the one who’d consumed hallucinogenic berries, for she was clearly the only person in the room with a sliver ofrationality. “No, I do not. I think you are both in desperate need of excitement in your own lives and should stop inventing trouble where there is none. I’m up to my ears in dramatics already. I do not need any more!”
Rather than allow herself to dwell on whether or not Alexander wanted her to continue helping with Adrian’s case, the next morning Saffron spent a bit of time in front of a microscope with the mystery plant from Petrov’s stock of dried herbs. While she was able to identify several salient features, she hadn’t been able to place it on the taxonomical lines with certainty. She could guess that it belonged to the group known asSympetaly, but past that, she could not be sure. The rest would be a mystery until she returned to the library or gained the courage to approach Dr. Aster again.
She decided this was worth calling in that favor from Spalding and gave him a sample. He raised a brow at the request but agreed. Saffron didn’t trust that her mystery plant would be a priority for him, however, so to the library she went.
She forced her steps to click but not clatter across the polished wood floor of the Flaxman Gallery and had just reached the steps to the library’s double glass doors when she caught sight of Nick walking down the hall adjoining the North Wing to the Wilkins Building. He wore a dark brown suit beneath his overcoat and still had his hat on.
“Saffron,” he called brightly. He strode to where she stood on the steps. “How do you do?”
“Quite well, but I’m afraid I’m rather in a hurry.”
“I must speak with you,” he said, his smile fading.
Cold sliced through her. “Is it Elizabeth? What’s the matter?”
He shook his head. “Nothing to do with her, I assure you. Could we pop over to your office?”
“I can’t at the moment, Nick, I’ve got something urgent—”
He took her by the arm in a movement too quick for her to process, and suddenly her back was pressed against the wall in one of the small alcoves next to the library’s entrance.
His face was inches away and his voice little more than a rough whisper. “I’ve got something far more urgent, I assure you.”
Saffron blinked at him. Was this … a seduction? An attempt at intimidation? She wanted to roll her eyes. “Nick, I do not have time—”
“There’s been another murder.”
Saffron stared at him. From this distance, she could count the faint freckles on his nose. She fought off chills at the intensity of his gaze. It was not friendly or pleasant but direct and utterly serious.
“The laboratory in Harpenden,” he said. “You remember I mentioned the old man who died abruptly.” Saffron nodded. “One of his colleagues has gone missing. I’m sure he’s dead too.”
She swallowed. “W-why is that?”
“Because he’s been missing for three days, and the boy who delivers the milk just reported a smell coming from his house.”
“Dear God.”
Nick nodded grimly. “I want your help.”
“But why?”
Something of his humor returned to his face, softening the lines a bit. “You’ve been involved in several murders, Saffron.”
Elizabeth probably told her brother everything about her murder investigations while they were at Lou’s.
“And,” he continued, raising a questioning brow, “our mutual friend Alexander Ashton has an unfortunate connection to the death of Demien Petrov, doesn’t he? I imagine you were asked to intercede on Adrian Ashton’s behalf.”
Saffron swallowed, shaking her head. “I don’t know where you got that impression, but—”
“Otherwise, I very much wonder why you and Alexander were seen on the dead man’s street earlier this week. Coming out of his flat, even.”
“No one prevented us from seeing his flat—”
“I’m not suggesting you did anything wrong,” Nick said in an unhurried fashion. “But I am suggesting you know far more about Demian Petrov than anyone suspects. I imagine you’ve already gottenhalfway to solving his death. Work with me to finish it, and learn what happened to the missing man.”
