by Rebecca King
Emmeline smiled, a little relieved that he wasn’t going to condemn her for the shattered remains of her family.
“To answer your earlier questions, no, I don’t know who her friends are. I would recognise some of them if I saw them and have a vague understanding of their names but have no idea what they do with their time.”
“How was Caroline spending her time, apart from drinking that is? She lived in lodgings, didn’t she? Did she have a job?” Oliver wished now he had read the case file a little more closely.
“She rented a bed in a shared house,” Caroline replied. “She paid for the night, if she earnt enough.”
“How did she earn that money?” Oliver asked. He regretted it when his question was met with a pointed silence. When he looked up, and saw the colour on Emmeline’s face, he knew, and bitterly regretted asking Emmeline to spell it out.
“The few belongings she did have vanished with her,” Emmeline said evasively. “I did ask one of her – associates – about them. He told me that she sold anything of value ages ago, not long after she started frequenting the pubs in the lower end of town. I suspect she drank the money.”
Oliver contemplated the clothing Caroline had been dressed in at the point of death. They weren’t the impoverished pauper’s clothing one would expect to see had she been struggling to make a living, or indeed making a regular living on her back. The clothing Caroline had worn had been tailored, and while not extremely expensive, had been costly at some point in time.
She might have been better off with her kidnappers. If she was used to making a living on her back, why would they kill her? Unless it was because she was used to it and so had to die? Maybe she was too rough around the edges and had to be disposed of?
Making a mental note to discuss all of this with his colleagues when he made his way to the new safe house later, Oliver turned his attention back to the woman seated opposite. As had happened the first time he had set eyes on her, what seemed like a lifetime ago now but was in fact only an hour ago, Oliver felt something stir deep in the centre of his chest. It blossomed with a warmth that stole through him and brought with it a fierce need to keep Emmeline in his life. It was damned odd because it contrasted with the very real need to get up and run out of the house and keep on running until he had put as much distance between him and Emmeline as it was possible to put between them. He suspected that if he stayed with her for too much longer, his life would never be the same again. Oliver hated to think why. It wasn’t because he was ever going to allow anything romantic to happen between them. He was only in her life temporarily, because it was a part of his job. As soon as that job requirement was over, he would go. It was that simple. It was what had always happened before and was going to happen again with Emmeline.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Thank you for coming all this way to tell me,” Emmeline said when the silence that lengthened between them began to get uncomfortable.
Oliver nodded. “What about Smidgley Hall? Do you know if Caroline had any connections to anybody who either lived or worked there?”
“No, I don’t,” Emmeline replied honestly. “Some of her friends might know, but I wasn’t all that close to her. All I can identify are some of her – associates.”
Emmeline coughed discretely and lowered her gaze to the floor. She knew he understood what she meant by ‘associates’, but thankfully, he didn’t ask her to expand.
For the first time since Sir Hugo had suggested it, Oliver began to doubt his ability to persuade Emmeline to help them with their investigation. She wasn’t an outraged relation who demanded justice for the loss of her loved one. Emmeline wasn’t even what he would consider a close relation of the deceased, not after what he had just heard in any case, and for that he was grateful. Moreover, she wasn’t grief stricken like he had expected her to be, and so deeply upset she would be inclined to agree to anything he suggested. However, that didn’t change the fact that she was perfect in every way – for helping the Star Elite with their investigation, of course.
“What is it?” Emmeline felt sick because she knew there was more, although she couldn’t hazard a guess as to what more he could say.
“We need your help,” Oliver said simply.
Emmeline swallowed but there was nothing she could do about the fear in her eyes.
“You want m-my help?” she asked somewhat weakly.
Oliver hated to do it but nodded.
“To do what - exactly?”
The last thing Emmeline wanted was to get involved in any aspect of Caroline’s life. She hated to even think about what Caroline’s choices had led her to do, much less understand how she had survived so long as she had. Since their parents had died, a part of Emmeline had always waited for that knock on the door that would inform her of Caroline’s demise. She just hadn’t expected her sister to die the way she had, at the hands of kidnappers who had not only succeeded in snatching her out of the life she had chosen for herself but had put paid to her already tenuous hold on life as well.
“I won’t get involved in any aspect of Caroline’s life,” she warned.
“I am not asking you to.” Oliver’s response was swift. “Not completely.”
“No.”
“Just listen to what I am going to ask you.”
“No. I am not going to get involved.” Emmeline pushed out of her chair when Oliver sighed. She didn’t want an argument with him. “There is nothing you can do, or say, that would persuade me otherwise. No.”
“Emmeline,” Oliver sighed. He hadn’t expected such vociferous determination, but knew he had to battle it regardless of whether he stood a chance in Hell of succeeding.
Even though she knew it was rude to abandon a guest, Emmeline hurried out of the room and practically raced into the kitchen. She busied herself preparing dinner, and filled a pot with water, which she set on to boil. All the while, she felt Oliver’s steady stare as he stood in the doorway, an implacable vision of masculine determination that in ordinary circumstances she would have found quite engaging. Now, it was downright alarming. She suspected if he ventured anywhere closer, or showed her the slightest hint of gentleness, her resolve would be stolen, and she would be damned to join him in his wretched investigation. As it was, she wanted nothing to do with Caroline’s old life, or the people in it. They were a world away from her quite ordinary existence and she was glad of it.
“Why me?” she asked quietly when she couldn’t stand him staring at her any longer.
“You look like her.”
Emmeline stopped and braced her hands on the wash-stand before her. She dropped her head and drew in a breath.
“You are so much like her that it is a little unnerving, to be honest. It helps that you don’t inhabit her world or know the people she used to associate with very well. From a distance, nobody will know you are not her.”
“Don’t say that,” Emmeline hissed. “Don’t ever say that.”
“I am not saying that you have to be like her. God forbid that should ever happen. I am just saying that we need your help in this investigation. We think the people responsible live not all that far away from here, Emmeline. That means you are in danger every time you step out of the front door because they might mistake you for Caroline and try to snatch you.”
“But if they killed me then they know I am already dead,” Emmeline argued.
She was horribly disappointed that Oliver was trying to use her so blatantly, and quite clearly prepared to try to make her feel vulnerable to do so. Of all people she wanted – needed – to be forthright and honest, it was him. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be because he was trying to make her want to get involved, if only to protect her life as she knew it.
“That is just the point,” Oliver warned.
He stepped into the kitchen of the ancient cottage, the ceiling of which hung so low he had to dip his head so he didn’t smack his forehead on the low beams. He placed one palm against the beam directly above his head and looked solem
nly at her while he contemplated what to say.
“They think they have killed Caroline. They have killed Caroline. However, they are unlikely to know that she had a twin sister who looks identical to her. If they see you in passing, they are going to think you are Caroline and will panic. They may try to snatch you - again.”
“How do you know? They might not. In fact, how do you know I am likely to cross paths with them? Caroline has been missing for several weeks now, and nothing has happened to me. I have gone about my business, even travelled into town on several occasions, and nothing untoward has happened.” Emmeline knew she sounded boastful but didn’t care. She tipped her chin up and willed herself not to back away from the looming tower of masculinity hovering so threateningly close.
“And long may that continue. However, to make sure it continues to happen we have to put Caroline’s killers behind bars. It isn’t just Caroline’s life we are avenging. It is all of the other young women who have been kidnapped as well.”
Emmeline swallowed harshly. She knew a veritable mountain of persuasion had just been stacked high against her, and all because of the smooth manipulation of the man before her. It was then that she realised why she felt so threatened by him. He was smooth, very manipulative, and made no apology for it.
“I am not getting involved,” she bit out, this time more firmly. “How do you know the other victims have been murdered? They might still be alive. I am not going to become another victim, for you or anybody else.”
Oliver sighed. “I am not asking you to be. I am just asking if you would go into town. We can keep you safe.”
“We? Who is this ‘we’?” She looked outside in search of this ‘we’, but then realised they were at the back of the house. All she could see was her back garden.
“The men who are, as we speak, working to find the people responsible for kidnapping all of the young women who have disappeared around these parts.”
“I don’t see what help I could possibly be, and I don’t see why my looking like one of their victims will do anything other than risk them trying to snatch me. Unless, of course, you are the kind of person who wants to put people’s lives in danger,” she blustered, deeply offended that he thought she was the kind of woman who would fall prey to his callous manipulations so easily. “I don’t care what you are, or who you are, or who you work for. I am not going to get involved, and that is my final say on the matter. There is nothing you can say that would persuade me otherwise. While I am sorry for what happened to Caroline, it was inevitable that she wouldn’t have a life of longevity seeing as she did everything possible to thwart it. I have been waiting practically all my life for the dire news of her death. While I shall mourn her passing, of course I will, I am not going to risk my own life to play heroine.” Emmeline squared her shoulders and tipped her chin up. “I am sorry mister – Oliver – but I cannot help you.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if I thought you were going to be in any significant danger. We will show you what to do should anybody try to attack you,” Oliver offered, struggling to think of what he could offer that would persuade her to help them.
“They won’t unless I agree to help you,” Emmeline bit out. Her suspicions were proven accurate when Oliver made no attempt to argue with her.
“These people actually live in this area,” Oliver began.
“Go and arrest them then,” she interrupted. “You work for the War Office, don’t you? You can arrest people, can’t you? Go and put whoever is responsible behind bars and then you don’t need me.”
“It isn’t as easy as that,” Oliver sighed. “Don’t you think we would if we could?”
“What is stopping you?”
“All sorts of things,” Oliver bit out sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter about that right now.”
“It has to matter if it is stopping you from arresting the people who are kidnapping young women,” Emmeline argued. She had never met anybody she wanted to shake so much in her life before now, but Oliver was it. He was the most frustrating man she had ever met in her life.
“Look, I cannot explain the details of our investigation right now. What I am tasked to do is lure the culprits out of hiding. They know that Caroline is dead, but they are unlikely to know that she has a twin sister. We therefore need you to do nothing more than go about your business but in a place where we know you are likely to be seen by the kidnappers. When they do see you, I have no doubt they will do their damnedest to get you off the streets, just like they did with Caroline.”
“What do you intend to do if they succeed?” Emmeline demanded.
“They aren’t going to,” Oliver growled.
There was such a fierce glint in his eye that for a moment, Emmeline didn’t doubt it. Unfortunately, that momentary lapse of common sense disappeared almost instantly, and she was left staring at the cold realisation that this man truly did want her to put her life in danger to help him.
“Give me one good reason why I should?” Emmeline asked, silently willing him to give her one good reason – just one – that would convince her that she hadn’t truly just allowed a man into her house who expected her to risk getting herself kidnapped.
“This is for the War Office,” Oliver offered.
Emmeline shook her head. “Not good enough. You have plenty of people who work for the War Office to help you. You don’t need me.”
Oliver’s lips quirked. “But most of the men are tall men who cannot even begin to pretend to be women. Well, sober in any case.”
Emmeline rolled her eyes but shook her head. “Not good enough. I am sure you have someone else you can ask. After all, from what I have read in the broadsheets, there is a certain type of woman these kidnappers go after. There are plenty of young women who fit that mould, I am sure. Go and find one.”
“But they don’t look like one of the victims they have already snatched. That is the key here, Emmeline. You are different.” Oliver swiftly blanked out the small voice warning him that Emmeline was different on many levels to any woman he had ever met before, and without any connection to his mission.
“I am not going to do it,” she persisted. “I am sorry, but I am not prepared to risk my future for a stranger I have only met an hour ago.”
“This isn’t for me. You are doing this for the War Office.”
“Well, I am not going to do this for the War Office either,” Emmeline snapped, her voice as sharp as the defiant look in her eye. “I am sorry, but my answer stays a very firm ‘no’, and that is the end of the matter as far as I am concerned.”
As he listened to her, all sorts of things flew through Oliver’s mind, but he knew none of the possibilities he contemplated were likely to work. He suspected not even downright pleading could help persuade her to do it.
“I could arrest you.”
“For what?” Emmeline cried. “For failing to be your scapegoat?”
“You are not being a scapegoat. You are failing to assist us with a criminal investigation.” Oliver mentally crossed his fingers. “As such, you are sort-of withholding valuable information that would help us in the course of our investigation. That is enough to get you behind bars.”
Emmeline’s mouth fell open. “You cannot do that. It is illegal. You cannot arrest me for a crime I have not committed.”
“I can do whatever I deem necessary in the course of my investigation,” Oliver assured her calmly but firmly.
“Like arresting innocent people for saying ‘no’ to you?” Emmeline gasped.
“If I think you are putting yourself in unnecessary danger, or withholding something that would help us, I can assure you that I can most definitely put you behind bars.” Oliver did his best to keep his face impassive.
“But you are asking me to do something that will put me in unnecessary danger,” she protested. “You, sir, are a liar.”
Oliver’s brows shot up. “A liar? How?”
“You cannot arrest me for not being willing to put myself in danger,” Em
meline snorted quite inelegantly.
“I can assure you that I can do whatever I please, and if I feel you are deliberately trying to make my investigation difficult, I most definitely can put you in irons.”
Emmeline’s temper began to burn. She squinted suspiciously at him for a moment. A part of her wanted to order him out of her house and command he never darken her door again. Not least because he was the most distracting man she had ever met in her life. Whenever their gazes clashed, as they were now, she struggled to concentrate and think of, well, practically anything except him.
Damn. Now what am I going to do? If I demand he leaves, he might arrest me. Before I know it, I will sit in gaol until I see sense, and then be dragged into their investigation anyway.
“I don’t see why I should sacrifice my life to help you, especially seeing as Caroline has already sacrificed hers,” Emmeline snapped.
“She wasn’t sacrificed,” Oliver replied sharply. “She made the mistake of walking down the street as any young lady has the right to do. Albeit she was unchaperoned, but that doesn’t give anybody the right to steal a woman’s life. Nobody should feel afraid to go about their business. You shouldn’t either, Emmeline.”
“Oh, stop it. You are not going to frighten me into helping you, I can tell you that much, so don’t even think about trying,” Emmeline spat. “I have been going about my business, often unchaperoned, for weeks, months, years, and nothing has ever happened to me beyond encountering gossips.”
Oliver wondered if this was how her father had felt when he had locked horns with Emmeline’s sister. Emmeline was beautiful to look at, all soft and feminine gentility. When determined about something, though, she was as stubborn as a mule. He sighed heavily because he suspected they would continue to run around in circles, arguing over and over about the same thing, for the next several hours and never come to any sort of agreement. She was, if the pink flush on her cheeks was any indication, getting annoyed. He wondered how much longer he could push before she would snap and demand he get out of her house and stop bothering her.