Nick turned, limped over to the steps, and sat down.
“Mr. Wilcox.” Roberta’s voice was urgent. “Cassie may be hurt too, like Miss Rayner, I mean. She may be lying somewhere, hurt.”
“She was a trained nurse, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, but—”
“She’ll know what to do then. Where’s the little girl, Joey?”
“Joey’s with Pee Wee, over in their cottage. Mr. Wilcox, will you let Nick and me go with you? You’re going to look for her, aren’t you?”
“Now, now,” Perley said. “Mr. East is going to help me and you all know who he is. Miss Cassidy’s as good as in her bed right now.”
She returned his look soberly. “But if she isn’t, who’s going to tell my father? My father’s coming tomorrow morning—this morning. He’ll be here for breakfast. Who’s going to tell him she’s gone?”
No one answered. Mark began to smile in the dark. He wondered whether he dared say what he thought, that Beacham already knew. He was framing the sentence when something stopped him. A shrill whimper broke the silence, a sad little crying that might have come from a very small and not quite human heart. He looked down at a puppy groveling at his feet.
“Cassie’s,” Roberta said.
Before he could speak there was another sound, this time from a cottage farther on. It was a whimper too, but there was no doubt about its origin.
He took the cringing animal in his arms. “I’ll tell your father,” he said. “I’ll meet the train.” He walked over to the other cottage alone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AMERICAN mystery writer Hilda Lawrence (1906–1976) published her first book, Blood upon the Snow, in 1944. Its commercial success inspired two more novels featuring detective Mark East, A Time to Die in 1945 and Death of a Doll in 1947. Her other books include The Pavilion (1948) and a collection of novellas, Duet of Death (1949).
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