"There was nothing to hunt in the field."
Except her. A cold hand gripped her nape; icy fingers trailed her spine. Phyllida suppressed a shiver. She continued walking. Her mind darted, sifting, rearranging the known facts in light of that new one.
She'd almost convinced herself it had been a careless hunter-despite her instinctive fear, there'd been no logical reason to think otherwise. Now… could the murderer be trying to kill her?
Why? She'd seen the hat, true, but it was just a brown hat-she'd know it again if she saw it, but she couldn't recall seeing it before. She'd kept her eyes peeled, but she hadn't sighted it again. In fact, until they'd confirmed otherwise, she'd assumed some outsider must have ridden in and stabbed Horatio. That no longer seemed likely. If Lucifer was correct and the same horse that had been tethered by the shrubbery on Sunday had been by the copse this morning, then she could only agree with him.
The murderer was a local and had tried to kill her.
He must think she could identify him, but surely not because of the hat? He'd have burned it by now, and as she hadn't said anything, it must be obvious she hadn't recognized it. Was there something else she'd seen?
Frowning, she walked on.
A disgusted sound came from beside her. She felt Lucifer's gaze on her face and swiftly banished her frown.
"I should tell your father of your connection with the murder."
She rounded on him. "You haven't?"
He scowled at her. "No-but I should. I will, if that's the only way to ensure you remain safe."
She breathed easily again. "I'll take care."
"Take care? Just look at you! Traipsing about in the dead of night-alone!"
"But no one knows I'm out here."
"Except all those involved."
She snorted softly. "None of them is the murderer and you know it."
A charged silence ensued.
"Are you going to tell me that no one ever notices the light shining from the church every few nights?"
"Of course they notice-they think it's smugglers."
"So everyone knows you're there."
"No! No one even imagines I'm there-I'm a woman, remember?"
That shut him up. Only for a moment. "Believe me, that's one thing I'm highly unlikely to forget."
She tripped. He caught her arm, hauling her up, swinging her to him. She steadied, facing diagonally down the common. "Good Lord!" She stared. "A light just winked in your drawing room."
They both froze, staring down at the Manor. All was dark, then a pinprick of light flashed again. Before they could blink, a faint glow suffused the windows of the drawing room. A lamp had been lit and turned low.
Phyllida sucked in a breath. "It must be the murderer!"
"Stay here!"
Releasing her, Lucifer plunged down the slope.
"Hah!" Phyllida headed after him, in his wake, trusting that if there was a place to stumble, he'd find it first.
They skirted the duck pond, then picked their way across the lane, careful to avoid loose stones. Gaining the cottages' front fences, they hugged the shadows, ducking low as they rushed along the Manor's garden wall. Lucifer reached the gate before her; he stood and swung it open-
It creaked.