Of course she won’t hesitate, she is going home, idiot.
Clementine struggled to keep her surprise off her face when she saw who was standing at her front gate. When their eyes met, a wild flurry of now familiar attraction, which seemed to grow stronger every time she saw him, began to gather into a pool of warmth in the pit of her stomach. Clementine sighed without even realising she had and found it impossible to tear her gaze away from the wonderfully appealing sight he made standing waiting for her by the side of the garden gate. It was only when the Captain patted the back of her hand to get her attention that Clementine realised that he had just spoken to her, and that she hadn’t heard a single word he had said. She threw him a guilty look.
“Don’t worry, my dear, I understand,” he murmured gently with a somewhat fatherly air of teasing good humour.
“About what?” Clementine asked but received no answer because the Captain was already greeting Moss.
“I have been thinking about what you told me,” Moss explained when they reached him.
“I think you should know that we have just seen someone in Sally Walcott’s house. As far as I know, there shouldn’t be anybody there,” the Captain interrupted briskly. “It is still full of Sally’s things. However, we have just seen someone skulking around inside.”
“I think it is the same person I saw the day Sally was found. Whoever was in there then still seems be looking for something,” Clementine added.
“I don’t believe anybody has authority to go into the newly deceased person’s home. Even the sister, if she is going to inherit the property, won’t have the right to be there until the will has been formally read. The house does not belong to any of the relations so legally none of them have the right to be inside either. Whoever is going in is trespassing, so the magistrate must be informed.” Moss looked pointedly at Clementine when he spoke. He was pleased to note that she had the good grace to look sheepish.
Clementine, duly chastised, opened her mouth to ask the Captain what he thought about the intruder when they all became aware of the thundering of hooves on the road behind them.
“Now who is that going somewhere in such a rush?” the Captain grumbled. “Don’t tell me there has been another death.”
“Look out!” Clementine cried when a horse and rider, both as black as night, charged wildly around the corner at a break-neck gallop and headed straight for them.
“Get away!” The Captain cried, flailing his arms wildly to try to worry the horse away.
Moss grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him toward the garden before lunging forward and swinging Clementine around. He did so with a speed that left them all off-balance. Within seconds, all three of them were buried in the privet hedge beside them. The rider thundered past without stopping, and thankfully without claiming any unsuspecting victims.
“You damned fool!” the Captain yelled angrily as he scrambled to his feet. “What in the Devil’s name does he think he is doing? He is going to get someone killed riding through the damned streets like that.”
“I think that is what he wants,” Clementine grunted as she struggled to move away from a particularly probing branch jabbing her in the back.
Moss looked down at her as she lay half buried in privet. “Are you hurt?” he asked softly, carefully easing away from her.
Clementine shook her head. Apart from having about twenty thousand spiky privet twigs jabbing into her, she was fine – as fine as she could be given that she was barely able to stand up or concentrate on anything other than Moss. His presence was so distracting she forgot about everything as she gazed at him intently, aware that he was watching her back with equally avid distraction. What Clementine couldn’t ignore, however, was the thick fan of lashes that cupped Moss’s brown eyes, which seemed to draw her closer the more they looked at each other.
Before Clementine could do little more than gasp, Moss’s lips covered hers. It was over really before it began, but that brief sweep of his lips against hers was more than enough to shock her. Her hands rose to push him away, but she found herself holding on to the fine material of his shirt instead. Confused, Clementine knew she should step away but didn’t want to. She was captivated by being this close to him even though she knew it was scandalous. Because propriety demanded that she not be so forthright with him, Clementine was left struggling to know what to do; follow her head or her heart.
“Are you all right?” Moss whispered, unsure if he was asking if she was hurt or annoyed by his boldness.
“Yes, I am fine,” she replied breathlessly.
Clementine was prevented from saying anything more by her father, who hurried around the side of the house to see what the Captain’s shouting was about. He gaped in astonishment at the sight that greeted him, not least because it was highly unusual to find his daughter half-lying in a privet hedge, wrapped securely in the arms of a private detective, while a disgruntled Captain was swearing ferociously at something at the end of the lane.
“What in the blazes happened?” Cameron demanded.
“The whole damned village has gone mad,” the Captain snorted. “Tried to murder us they did. Right out here on your doorstep. If Moss hadn’t been here, we would have all been run over right where we stood.”
“Run over?” Cameron looked worriedly at Moss.
Moss nodded.
Cameron’s face turned hard. “You had all better come in.”
The Captain pushed the gate open and hurried into the house.
“Go on into the kitchen,” Cameron urged. “The fire is warming the room in there.”
Clementine and Moss took the opportunity the men’s conversation afforded them to stand up and brush their clothing off. When he had made sure she hadn’t been hurt by the drama, Moss opened the gate beside them and waved Clementine into the safety of the garden. He eyed the lane the rider had just disappeared down and wondered if it was worth trying to follow the fool but decided against it. It was important he stayed with Clementine now because there could be little doubt that someone truly did want not just her, but the people around her, dead.
“Let’s go into the kitchen, shall we?” Cameron urged. He slammed the door behind them with considerable force; a testament to just how angry he was. “I have been gardening out back and only realised you were here when I heard the commotion. A horse, did you say?”