“No,” the Captain replied firmly. “Not yet. But she could become a victim any day now. You cannot delay getting this investigation underway, Moss. You are one of the best in the area. If you cannot find out who is responsible for the deaths then Clementine is going to die, of that you can be certain.” The Captain ambled off, leaving a still horrified Moss staring after him. Once several feet away, the Captain turned back to look at him. “Coming?”
Moss wandered slowly after him but struggled to shake off the lingering effects of the absolute horror that had just stolen all common sense, logic, and reasoning. In its wake was a lost feeling that made Moss stop and re-think everything he thought he knew about life, like what he wanted from it and where he expected his to take him.
“Now what do I do?” he muttered, but Moss knew that there was only one thing he could do to ensure his future happiness and success in life, and in business: protect Clementine.
“Where are you off to now?”
“I have to go and see her,” Moss replied.
The Captain nodded and stopped when they reached a cross-roads. “Are you staying? You are welcome to bunk at mine if you would like?”
“Firstly, I have to go and speak to the local magistrate to see what he makes of these deaths.”
“I think you are going to have a problem there,” the Captain began. “He went to town yesterday and won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Well, I will have to go back to town as well. I need to speak to a friend of mine who is a magistrate in the next county. If Olley cannot be bothered to investigate these deaths, Billsdon will. Firstly, I need to speak with Clementine.”
“Can you not take her back to town with you? You know, to keep her safe?”
“Can I not take a single woman home with me?” Moss lifted his brows askance at the Captain. “You really are determined to play matchmaker, aren’t you?”
“I just recognise when two people are meant to be together, that’s all,” the Captain replied. “I have never known you to be this het up about any woman before. It is so unlike you that I think even you know how different she is and how much of an impact she is going to have on your life.”
“You make it sound as if we are already betrothed or something,” Moss snorted. “She hates me.”
“If she hated you then she wouldn’t have come to seek your help, would she?”
Moss sighed because one-by-one the Captain was diligently taking his reasons for staying away from Clementine and smashing them into a thousand tiny pieces. Strangely, Moss didn’t want to rebuild his excuses, not least because the lingering sense of losing something precious still hovered over him.
“I suppose I had better go and see her then.”
“I suppose you must,” the Captain replied. He dug around in his waistcoat pocket and shoved a key at Moss. “Use this when you do get back. Just in case I am out.”
“I thought you were going to your cousin’s house?” Moss asked curiously.
“What and miss all the fun?” The Captain shook his head at him. “I don’t know what I would be coming back to. While I know it would be safer to go away, I just can’t. I want this blighter caught.”
Moss nodded at the dour look the Captain threw him. He knew the Captain was sticking around to offer Moss his services, and for that Moss could only be grateful. It would help ease his investigation along a bit if he had a local to guide him, preferably not Clementine, though. He couldn’t stand the thought of her putting herself in danger.
Or, worse, getting herself involved in my investigation.
Moss needed the Captain, to give him information, and keep watch over people who would be wary of Moss. The Captain was able to walk around the locals and largely be ignored. The Captain was also a very astute judge of character. If someone was behaving oddly, Moss knew he wouldn’t have a clue, but the Captain would and would invariably alert Moss to it.
“I need all the help I can get,” Moss whispered.
“Aye, that you do.” With a knowing nod, the Captain touched his forehead with a finger and ambled off to the tavern leaving Moss to go in search of Clementine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Clementine picked the wildflowers scattered about the meadow and dropped each one into the basket at her feet. She looked up at Elaine, who was at the side of the small clearing also gathering flowers. It was something they only did occasionally, with the permission of Elaine’s father, the owner of the field, but was on
e of Clementine’s most favourite pastimes. Peace and a scattering of birdsong were the only things to break the companionable silence between her and her friend - until Elaine began to speak.
“Oh, come and look at this.”
Clementine ambled closer, her gaze wandering around the grass at her friend’s feet for the cause of her excitement. “What is it?”
“This butterfly. Come and look. Its colours are delightful.”