“What about the body?”
Again Peter was forced to reveal that nothing more could be learned from Mr. Warren himself. “He was returned to his family for burial last week.”
“I thought as much,” Croft murmured. “Keeping a corpse on ice for more than a few days would be problematic. Even at this time of year. Which means there’s no longer any crime scene or victim for me to study.”
“We have extensive notes,” Miss Hastings supplied.
“Notes are not as useful,” Mrs. Croft said when her husband remained silent. “They won’t contain what you may have missed.”
“Of course not, but—”
“Unfortunately,” Croft said, “I have other matters to tend to at present. This case will only take up valuable time I cannot afford to lose.”
Peter stared at his untouched coffee as tension gripped his shoulders. “We have an agreement, you and I.”
All hints of pleasantry vanished from Croft’s face. He leaned forward, his predatory gaze fixed on Peter until he was forced to fight the urge to loosen his cravat. “Attempting to blackmail me will not have the favorable outcome you seek, Kendrick. I am not refusing you on a whim but rather because I’d be wasting my time on a futile endeavor.”
Peter’s muscles tensed, frustration and anger colliding until he was shaking with carefully leashed emotion. “What if the killer strikes again?”
“Should that occur,” Croft replied with brutal severity, “you come to me directly so I can evaluate the evidence before it’s destroyed.”
Not doing so had been foolish, Peter realized, but he’d believed he’d solve the case himself after figuring out who the victim was. He’d been sure interviewing the people who’d known Mr. Warren would lead to additional answers.
Instead, Peter had wasted whatever chance he’d had of acquiring Croft’s assistance. But the fact that he wouldn’t even agree to read the report in an effort to find something Bow Street had missed struck Peter as odd.
It was a notion that wouldn’t let up as Peter and Miss Hastings took their leave moments later. He hailed a hackney more out of instinct than because his mind was focused upon the task. Only when he felt Miss Hastings’s hand against his own while handing her up into the carriage that answered his summons did he register his surroundings.
He blinked as she climbed into the cabin and managed to give the driver directions to the townhouse where Miss Hastings lived with her parents.
“We can stop by Bow Street first,” Miss Hastings said once he’d claimed the seat across from her. “I can easily continue onward from there.”
“It’s late.” He knocked on the ceiling and the carriage took off. “The least I can do is escort you home.”
“But—”
“We’re not disputing this, Miss Hastings. Your father would have my head if anything were to happen to you.”
She huffed a breath. “Is that your only concern?”
While he could not see her expression in the darkness, the sound of her voice — laced with accusation – told him she was put out by his comment. Which didn’t make sense unless…
Don’t be a fool. She’s probably just annoyed that your main concern would be her father’s response.
So he considered telling her he’d be devastated if any harm ever befell her, that it would wreck him beyond compare, yet every combination of words he came up with seemed too strong. He feared it might reveal what he truly felt for her — the yearning he hid so deep in his heart she probably thought him indifferent.
Nothing could be more false.
Which was why he was glad the case kept him busy. It prevented him from falling prey to quiet moments where pointless imaginings rushed in and made him crave more than what was right. Better to occupy his brain with doing his job than with dreams that left him frustrated and dissatisfied.
“Did I make a mistake by pushing Mr. Croft?”
Her question made Peter realize he’d waited too long to answer her previous question. A relief, in a way, that she offered a different topic for them to discuss.
“No. I’m proud of you for daring to go toe to toe with him as you did.”
“Thank you.”
He could hear her smile in the way she spoke. Two simple words he’d heard more than a thousand times before, though never in a way that filled his heart with such warmth. An answering smile pulled at his lips and for a second, he allowed himself to savor the ensuing silence they shared as the carriage rolled onward.
