Lightning Strikes (Hudson 2)

"Mrs. Endfield?"

The silence was confusing. I knew I had heard a voice on the other side of the door. I waited and then, I decided to knock once more, a little harder. When I did, the door opened a few inches.

"Mrs. Endfield?"

Again, I was greeted with silence. I leaned forward and peered into the room. My great-aunt was sitting in a rocking chair with her back to me. Her head was down, and she was holding something in her arms. I was about to call out her name, when I felt a large, strong hand grab my shoulder and spin me around.

It was Boggs. Before he spoke, he reached past me for the doorknob and closed the door sharply.

"How dare you go snooping around like this?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"I wasn't snooping. I knocked and I called for Mrs. Endfield. The door swung open so I looked in for her, that's ail," I protested. Surely by now my great-aunt had heard the commotion and would come to the door, I thought. I hoped she would, for Boggs was towering over me with eyes that shot fire at my face.

"What do you want 'ere? I thought you were going out for the day," he said.

"First, if you must know, I wanted Mrs. Endfield to know I was going and second, I wanted to see if she wanted me back to help with dinner," I explained.

"You don't ask 'er that. You ask me. Don't you listen? You was told that already. I already told 'er you was goin' out for the day," he said. "And as for your services, if you were required to be 'ere, I'd a told you that, too. You don't 'afta worry about that."

"Fine," I said. "Then I'm going."

His eyes followed me closely as I walked around him and to the stairs. I didn't look back, but I blew he was standing right there, watching me descend. My heart was thumping and a cold sweat had broken out over my brow and down the back of my neck. I practically ran out of the house.

Randall, who was leaning against the garden wall, straightened up immediately. I hurried to him.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

"No. Let's just go," I said. "Quickly."

He was nearly jogging to keep up with me. Finally, he reached out and took me by the elbow.

"Hold on. You're beating the hell out of this street and you're not even going in the right

direction."

"What? Oh? What is the right direction?" I asked, sounding frantic.

He nodded in the opposite direction.

"Did that guy yell at you or something? I hope I didn't cause any trouble."

"No. Forget it," I said, "It has nothing to do with you." He shrugged.

"Okay. We could continue and walk through the Gardens," he said, "and then catch a taxi to Buckingham, unless you want to stop at Harrod's first and see the world's most famous department store."

"Let's take it a step at a time," I said. "We'll walk through the Gardens first. I'd like to just breathe some fresh air."

"Okay. You're right. We've got lots of time. We're going to be in London quite a while."

"Maybe," I said under my breath. "Maybe you will, but I won't."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I'm just babbling. Don't pay any attention to me."

I looked back in the direction of the house. Why hadn't my Great-aunt Leonora acknowledged me? She had to have heard all that noise. I had knocked loud enough to wake the infamous ghost of Sir Rogers's mistress.

And where had Boggs come from so quickly? What did he do all day, wait in the shadows?