Page 5

chapter

three

The door was stuck.

Gabriella had a key, but the door was obviously unlocked as usual, and simply not opening.

The rain seemed to have got worse in the two hours she and James had been out to dinner, and she remembered how hard it was to open and close when they’d left.

“Let me.” James took her place, and she studied him as he pushed against the wooden door.

She’d thought many times he reminded her of a farmer or a woodcutter, tall and muscular, like he spent his days involved in physical labor.

Now those broad shoulders were shoving at the door and it squeaked a bit under the strain, but didn’t budge.

“Let’s go around the back,” she said. “The rear door is more sheltered than this one, and hopefully it’s still easy to open.”

James rammed the door one last time and gave a nod. “We can drive around. We’re not braving the street.”

If there wasn’t a fence splitting the property in half, for which she had no way through, she’d have laughed at the suggestion, but as it was, if they wanted to go round the back, they’d have to walk past two other houses to the end of the block, and go along the side road before they could turn into the back alley.

They ran back to the car and Gabriella struggled to close her umbrella from the passenger side without getting too much rain in the car.

“Do you know him?” James asked, and she looked up to see a tall figure walking past the car, hat low on his head against the rain, collar up.

“No.”

“I saw him waiting for someone next door when I came to fetch you. He looked young.” James studied him in a way that spoke of professional interest.

“Do you think he’s up to no good?” she asked as she finally got the door closed and pushed damp tendrils of hair off her face.

James shook his head. “Probably just a coincidence that he’s been here both times I’ve pulled up.”

“You don’t think it’s Whetford do you? Sending someone to follow you?” Gabriella felt like she was more worried about Whetford and his animus toward James than James was himself.

The fact was, James had done a few things to cause trouble for Whetford, and while Whetford didn’t know for sure that it was James who’d made his life difficult, he suspected it. And he wasn’t a nice man.

James turned to study the youth some more, and as if he sensed eyes on him, the young man turned back to look at their car and then ducked down the front walk to the house next door and went through the front door.

“Guess he’s a new tenant,” James conceded. He started the car and drove them round the block to the back alley. He let Gabriella out first and then parked close to the wall to allow other cars to pass. As if he planned to be parked there a while.

Gabriella smiled to herself, and then held the door set into the back wall open for him as he lifted his raincoat over his head and ran toward her.

They were laughing at the drenching they were getting by the time they reached the back door, because somehow, just as they’d gone under the back porch, the wind had changed direction and rain had come straight at them.

They stood for a moment in the small laundry room shared by all the tenants, dripping, and then with a shiver, she led him out into the passage way.

They passed the door to Mr. Rodney’s flat and Gabriella wondered if he was back from the club yet, and if Solomon had been there to give him and Jerome a lift home.

She couldn’t hear any sound from his rooms, and the way James was urging her toward the stairs, he wasn’t in the mood to stop and chat with her neighbor.

“In a hurry?” she asked.

“Do you mind?” he asked, stopping suddenly on the middle landing.

“I love it,” she answered honestly. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes before we both catch our death.”

He didn’t answer, he just reached out for her hand and moved upward even faster.