Jillian jumped at the noise and instantly pulled a pistol from her garter belt, aiming it at Delilah’s head. Delilah screamed this time, and fell in a heap on the floor, consumed with sobs.
Miss Johnsworth lowered the gun and ran to her side. She wrapped her hands around Delilah’s shoulders with a gentle pull, signaling Delilah to face her.
“Miss Knightly! I am terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Please tell me what happened. Are you all right?”
Delilah turned her head to see Miss Johnsworth hovering above her. Concern was etched in her face. Delilah tried to speak but was unable to catch her breath. She hiccupped and attempted to gain composure. Miss Johnsworth left her side and went to a sidebar, only to return with a cup of hot tea. Delilah took a deep breath and smelled the warm aroma of tea mingled with brandy wafting to her nose.
With a shaky hand, she reached for the cup and took a sip. It burned and soothed as it traveled to her stomach. Within seconds, the warmth spread throughout her body and she relaxed. Delilah sighed and smiled tentatively at Miss Johnsworth.
“It makes everything a little better, dear–even for a moment. Come take a seat in a chair and we’ll talk.” She held out a hand to Delilah, and she took it to help her stand. Once her footing was secured, Miss Johnsworth left her side to close the office door and shoved the lock into place. “Now then,” she said, tucking the gun back in her garter and sitting down at the desk, “we apparently have a problem.” Miss Johnsworth folded her hands on the desktop and leaned forward. “Scotland Yard seems to believe you’ve murdered Mr. McGinnis.”
Delilah’s shakes returned and she began to cry. Like a mother scolding a child for being loud, Miss Johnsworth shushed her. “Delilah. I need to know details. There’s no time for you to cry. They are to return this afternoon and I must interview everyone who was present last night.”
She silenced her cries and huffed–angry with herself for allowing such an outburst.
“I wasn’t aware he was killed. I was walking in the hallway and happened upon his office…” she gestured toward the door. Delilah choked on the memory of the blood, the gore, the sick smell of death permeating the room just a few doors away.
“I see that now, Miss Knightly. We need to verify your alibi to the police. Can you tell me where you were after you left work?”
Delilah thought back to the night before. The senses of sitting on the cold curb with a man.
“Yes. I met someone outside.”
She blinked. What was his name? She instantly remembered his sharp grey eyes, the way his black hair fell in his face, but the name was hard to recall. The memory of the way his lower lip curled into a grin, still freshly mottled with blood and fresh bruising was crystal clear. She took another sip of her tea, the now-cool sweetness slipping down her throat. Oh, she remembered.
“Dante Heller.” She sipped again, the tea giving her false confidence.
Her former employer’s eyes popped open wide. “Lord Heller?”
Delilah spat tea all over Miss Johnsworth. “Excuse me! I wasn’t aware he was a Lord. He just introduced himself as Dante Heller.”
Miss Johnsworth laughed loudly and reached for her handkerchief in a desk drawer. “Oh dear, no you wouldn’t have had any idea, would you? This is awkward. Yes, dear, Sir Dante Heller recently inherited the entire estate of his father. And by ‘recently,’ I mean to say, within the last week. From what I understand, he’s a tad bit reluctant of the change of hands since his older brother, who would have received the Lordship, took his own life last month as well. Very tragic start for the new lord.”
“Does Mr.–pardon me–does Lord Heller have enemies?”
Miss Johnsworth’s eyebrows furrowed and she tapped her cheek with a finger. Shaking her head, she answered. “I wouldn’t know. Why do you ask?”
Delilah was hesitant to answer. She paused a moment before she replied. “He was assaulted last night in the alley near the exit.”
“Assaulted!”
“Yes, Miss Johnsworth. I tripped over his hand as I exited the building last night. He had been beaten very wickedly.”
“Please, call me Jillian.” She put her hand up and Delilah took the motion to mean ‘stop talking.’ Jillian slowly walked to the bar and fixed herself another drink, this time without any tea. Downing the drink in one gulp, she turned back to Delilah and leaned on the bar. “Did he alert the police?”
“I don’t know.” She omitted the part where she left him on the street. She left out the part where she wished she could turn around and follow him to his house. She also omitted the part where she fell asleep and dreamed of being with him. Now, with a murder she had to prove innocence, there would an iceberg’s chance in hell. She scoffed loudly, blinking away the thought. Returning her attention to Jillian, Delilah realized her eyes had narrowed in on her.
“Something on your mind?”
Oops.
She shook her head. “Nothing…Just confused and lost.”
“Understandably so.” Jillian nodded and sat back in her chair. Delilah watched Jillian’s gaze rest on the window looking over the park and they both were silent for a moment. “Miss Knightly, Scotland Yard will be here soon to take more statements from other employees. I think it would be very prudent if you were here to do the same. I know they are currently looking for you. It would make sense if you stayed and discussed the situation–especially under my supervision and not under theirs, if that makes sense.”
The idea of speaking to the police made her palms itch and her heart race. “I’m not sure I can handle that sort of thing. Do you think they’ll take me to jail?”
“I’m not certain. It’s possible. They consider you a person of interest. But it is the right thing to do, don’t you agree?”
Delilah nodded. She knew it was. There wasn’t much sense in running away. She knew her innocence. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Chapter 4
“I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. I’m innocent.” Delilah wailed as two officers held her arms behind her back and handcuffed her.
“Sure ye didn’t, Miss. Just come down to the station and we’ll discuss it further. No need to fight us if you’ve done nothing wrong, eh?” The officer’s words dripped with sarcasm. It was obvious he didn’t believe her. She could feel it in her bones as he hauled her from the leather chair in Jillian’s office. Jillian had left earlier to interview the last of the witnesses to the argument from the night before and while she was gone…the vultures descended. She knew in her rational mind they were just doing their job, but something seemed so wrong.
“Where did you go after the alleged assault?” they’d asked, standing too close to her. She scrunched her nose at the smell of unwashed body.
“I was outside with Dante Heller.”
“The newly named Earl?” The heavy-set man laughed loudly. “Now there’s a right interesting story to tell there. Why would he be spending time with you?”
“He was assaulted and unconscious in the alleyway between Miss Merriweather’s side exit and the hotel. I was helping him.” The words flew from her mouth, but it all seemed for naught.
“Right. Patrick? Have you heard of a mugging in the alley last night? Most specifically the Earl of Heller?”
The other tall and lanky officer shook his head. “No, sir. Not heard of such.”
Perfect.