Page 75 of Secrets of the Heart

“How?”

“I will tell you in a little while,” Michael said, a smile touching his lips at her impatient expression. “But I need to talk to Perry about it, so it will be easier if I wait and tell you both at the same time.”

“Perry? Perry Overhill?” Rachel asked, confused. She could not imagine their portly, genial friend being able to help them solve a mystery. “But why? What can Perry do?”

“Patience. I will explain it all to you.”

Rachel was anything but patient as they strolled over to Perry’s house. She peppered Michael with questions, which he deflected with a smile.

Overhill’s butler showed them into the drawing room, which was decorated with Perry’s usual impeccable taste. A moment later Perry himself bustled in, beaming. He made an elegant bow and placed a kiss on Rachel’s hand, though both gestures were rendered faintly absurd by his pear-shaped figure. “Rachel, my dear, you are lovely, as always. And Michael—such a pleasant surprise to see you back in town. When did you return?”

Michael smiled, shaking his friend’s hand and saying, “It’s all right, Perry, Rachel knows all about it.”

Perry put on a confused air. “All about what?”

“Everything,” Rachel said, chuckling. “Michael’s sister Lilith, his disguises, his work. I know the whole story that you have tried so valiantly to hide from me—and, by the way, I have a bone to pick with you over deceiving me for years—so you can cast off that vague air.”

“It was not my preference, I assure you,” Overhill told her earnestly. “Gracious me, Michael, what has come over you?” He looked searchingly at his friend, and his eyebrows rose. “Ah…” he said almost to himself, nodding sagely. “I see.”

“See what?” Rachel asked.

“Why, that our Michael is a changed man.” His eyes danced as he turned back to Michael, saying a trifle archly, “One can only wonder what happened to the fellow.”

“No need to wonder. You know as well as I do that the change is due to Rachel.” Michael took his wife’s hand and lifted it to his lips, smiling at her tenderly.

“Sit down. Sit down.” Perry gestured them toward the arrangement of sofa and chairs that centered the elegant blue drawing room. “Let me ring for some refreshment. Then you can tell me what has brought you here, for I cannot feel that you are in need of company right now.”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Michael said, getting immediately to the point as his friend tugged at the bellpull. He walked with Rachel over to the couch, but remained standing, his hand clasped behind his back.

Perry glanced at him and frowned as he saw the serious expression on Michael’s face. “Westhampton…what is it? You look as grave as a parson.”

“I am a trifle worried,” Michael admitted. “It is this investigation I am working on. The thing is, I—I would like for you to escort Rachel to the opera tonight. I have things to attend to, and I want to be certain that she is safe. If I know that she is in your care—”

“Michael!” Both Rachel and Perry exclaimed, staring at him.

“What are you talking about?” Rachel went on, rising to face her husband. “Why would I not be safe? Where are you going to be? What are you going to be doing?”

“Yes,” Perry agreed. “I must say, old chap, you are sending chills up my spine. What is the danger?”

“I think, perhaps, that I have been betrayed by…someone I am close to.”

“Michael!” Rachel paled, her stomach suddenly icy. “What are you talking about? Who? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to explain it only once,” he said. “It is a difficult thing for me to say.”

“I should think so!” Perry exclaimed, looking shaken, and he sank down in a chair. “Pray explain yourself.”

“I have been working on a case. Several cases, actually, that have certain things in common. There is no need to go into all the details, but yesterday I began to suspect that I have been led deliberately astray, that I have been pointed in a false direction.”

“Toward Anthony, you mean?” Rachel asked.

“Who?” Perry asked, blinking. “Anthony who? Oh!” His face cleared. “You mean the chap you were asking me about? You are investigating him? Why? Because of his wife? You think he killed his wife?” Overhill gaped at Michael.

“I have been suspicious of him,” Michael replied. “You see, there were obvious clues pointing toward the man.”

“Good Gad. That is incredible!” Overhill gasped. “I don’t know the man well, but…well, I mean, not the sort of thing one would expect.” He shook his. “Are they going to arrest him?”

“No. I haven’t gone to Bow Street with this yet. No one knows but me…well, me and the real murderer.”