Chapter Five
Allison paused in the lobby of Division J headquarters, somewhat uncertain whether she should have come here at all. She had a feeling Inspector O’Brien wouldn’t be at all pleased to see her. But she’d spent a sleepless night pacing the floor in Jocelyn’s guest room, and she simply couldn’t go about the business of finding somewhere else to live until she knew that everything possible was being done to find Polly’s killer.
She turned to Heather and Joseph. “If you two will just have a seat, I shan’t be but a few minutes.”
Heather bit her lip and then nodded, while Joseph looked decidedly uncomfortable. She’d convinced him to leave her brother’s employ for her own, and she feared he was having second thoughts already.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched up to the desk sergeant. “I’d like to see Inspector O’Brien.”
“Oh, would you now?” The sergeant, a balding man of middle age, leaned back in his chair, looking her up and down and obviously finding her lacking.
She struggled to remember if anyone in her entire life had ever dared to look at her in such a manner before. How disconcerting.
Reining in her anger, she lifted her chin. “I am Lady Allison Croft. I demand that you let me see him.”
The sergeant made a disgusted sound beneath his breath, then snapped his fingers in the direction of a uniformed young man on the other side of the room. “Pond. Go see if the inspector will see this ‘ere lady.”
As Pond hurried off to do his bidding, the sergeant shook his head. “The inspector is mighty busy at the moment. He ain’t got time to speak to no lady.”
Allison honestly couldn’t tell by his tone whether he had no respect for ladies in general or if he doubted she actually was a lady. Either way, the comment rankled.
A few moments later, Constable Pond came back. “Right this way, my lady. Inspector O’Brien will see you.”
Unable to resist a smirk in the sergeant’s direction, Allison hurried after Pond, relieved that the inspector hadn’t refused to see her outright.
Constable Pond led her down a long hallway to a door at the end. He knocked sharply then opened it.
The inspector sat behind a huge, polished desk, stacks of paper all around him. His ever-present bowler hat had been set aside, and his burnished blond hair was mussed as though he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. Dark circles ringed his lovely green eyes, his jacket and waistcoat had been removed, and his shirt was rumpled across his powerful chest. In shock, she realized he probably hadn’t slept since she’d last seen him yesterday.
“Thank you, Pond, that will be all,” he told the constable.
The young man nodded and shut the door, leaving her alone with him.
She sat down on the wooden chair across from his desk, resisting the urge to reach forward and brush the hair out of his eyes. “You look exhausted,” she murmured. “Have you been up all night?”
He leaned back in his chair, meeting her concerned gaze for the first time. “Your brother is worried about you,” he said, instead of answering her question. “He came to see me last night, demanding I tell him where you were. You can imagine how pleased I was to hear you were missing on top of everything else.”
She gave a self-conscious laugh, fighting away the surge of guilt at knowing she’d caused him and her brother to worry. “Not missing,” she said lightly instead. “As you can see, I know exactly where I am.”
He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I really don’t have time for this, Allison. What do you want?”
He’d never before addressed her so informally. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or outraged. “I came to see if you’d found out anything more. Also, to see if you needed anything else from me, to ask me more questions, or if you needed anything from Mercy House.”
“It hasn’t even been a full day,” he said sharply. “Sorry to disappoint you, but without any witnesses, I imagine it will be quite some time before we find out who perpetrated this horrible act. As for the rest... I think I asked you everything I needed to yesterday.”
Heat crept up her cheeks, his words making her realize how very little she knew of his work or of the pressures he was under. Once again, she felt like the spoiled princess he thought her to be. She knew nothing of what it took to conduct a successful murder investigation.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I only want to help, not make things harder for you.”
He gave a muffled curse under his breath, then pushed to his feet and came around the desk, leaning against it and staring down at her. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have been so short with you. You had a terrible shock yesterday.”
She stared up at him for half a minute, then stood as well, so that only a foot of space separated them. “I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, edging a little closer. “I’d never seen anything like that. There was so m-much bl-blood.”
“Oh, princess,” he whispered, closing the rest of the distance between them and gathering her against him. “I never wanted such ugliness to touch you.”
The first time he’d called her that, she’d hated it. But as they’d gotten to know each other better, she’d realized that it was a term of endearment.
She melted against him, realizing that this was what she had wanted all along. This was why she had come here. She’d wanted him to hold her in his strong arms for just a few moments and somehow convince her that everything was going to be all right.