"Hazel! There she is."
I flinched, but it was too late to change course as Louisa Wadham stepped forward into my path, a basket over her arm filled with bread so fresh it steamed in the cool air, and a familiar figure at her side.
"Hazel, you knew the…girl, didn't you?"
I ignored Louisa, blinking into the crisp pale blue stare of the officer I'd locked eyes with the night before. He was clearer, although the brim of his hat still seemed to obscure the expression on his face. He had sharp features and pale skin, almost like vampires, but he glowed and stood comfortably in daylight. His clothes were tidy and crisp, but showed signs of age and wear.
I opened my mouth to deny my familiarity with Beth, or even the idea I might know what they were discussing, but Louisa spoke before I could.
"The pair of them walk home together from…wherever they are at night," Louisa said meaningfully.
Louisa and I had played together a few times when I was a girl, when my father was working and I could sneak out of the flat to explore the neighborhood. But Louisa had grown up, married the owner of one of the pubs on the street, and her hair was starting to turn grey around the edges. She stared at me with suspicion now.
"Miss…" the man said, those eerie blue eyes narrowing at me.
"Nix. Beth and I worked at the theater together," I said, marching forward. "I need to go there now. They don't know what's happened."
"They're interviewing the neighborhood!" Louisa squawked, but the officer just jogged to keep up with me.
"Miss Nix, I'm Detective Sergeant Piper. You were there last night." His voice was cool and heavy, almost comforting and dangerous at the same time.
"I was on my way home."
"In a carriage. You didn't wait for Miss O'Mahony?"
I chewed on my lip, steps slowing as my head raced. DS Piper was tall, and he cast a shadow over me as we walked. I wanted to help Beth, but Beth was dead, so what help could there really be? And Hunter had promised to investigate the matter. If I cooperated with London detectives, I might put the theater at risk, rather than offer any justice for Beth's death.
I glanced at the detective out of the corner of my eye and found him searching the street as we walked.
"She didn't come to work yesterday," I said, deciding the information was safe and important enough to their case to be worth saying.
"You don't travel to work together?" he asked.
I scrunched my nose, wishing I'd bitten my tongue and found a way to shake him off. I knew what Louisa and probably the rest of the neighborhood would lead the detectives to believe. We were whores. We wandered London looking for work at night.
"Beth isn't very reliable. And it's safe during the day. We only walked home together, and not always. No one realized anything was wrong just because she missed a show," I said.
"Does she walk home alone when you take a carriage?"
I shot a glare at the detective, wondering what he was really asking for in the question, my head too busy with ideas. "What does that have to do with anything?" I snapped.
He only blinked at me, and a ray of sunlight cut through the clouds to strike his eyes, revealing an almost silver cast to the color. "Anything could be relevant."
"Beth and I walked together the night before. I cut through the park so I left her…here, actually," I said, pausing and staring at the edge of the park. "Do you know when she died?"
"Did you see anyone when you walked through the park that night?" he asked, ignoring my question.
I opened my mouth, thinking of the thief, of Hunter, trying to imagine every possible consequence for anything I might say. The man who'd tried to attack me had left with broken hands. There was no way he could've hurt Beth after what Hunter had done. And Hunter…
Hunter had left me at my door with a kiss.
He'd offered to escort Beth home last night, seemed concerned by her absence. But the memory of his hand on my throat, stealing my breath as he fucked me with a selfish intensity, floated into my thoughts. I'd craved the violence that had exploded between us the night before, but it twisted strangely in my thoughts now.
"No," I said, abrupt and strong before shaking my head clear again and looking at DS Piper. "No, I was alone in the park."
His impassive expression didn't so much as twitch, but suspicion radiated from that stare. And I couldn't blame him. I'd hesitated too long. I knew too much, and I couldn't decide what could be spoken and what had to remain a secret.
"What theater is it that you ladies…act at?" he asked, stumbling over the words.
"The Bawdy Row," I said, resisting the urge to sigh at the first lie I was prepared with. "Tiny place down an alley in Covent Gardens. Not much of a theater, but I'm sure the neighborhood already gave you plenty of their thoughts on that."
His lips pressed flat, and it only drew attention to how full they really were and the fine cut of his jaw as it clenched. He was uncannily handsome, and it set me on edge, my head flitting from thoughts of Hunter to the sight of Beth's body.
"How did she die?" I asked.