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Walking past Henry, loitering at the bottom of the staircase, she gave him a smile and nod. He returned the gesture with a wide grin, arousing my suspicions even more.

  I drifted towards the staircase, my hands in my pockets. “Do you need any help, love?”

  “No, thank you. I’m just going to put a skin patch on it for now.” Pausing in mid-step, Cadence tilted her head to one side, massaging her wounded shoulder. “Although I may ask you to oil me later…”

  She continued up without another word, oblivious to the inane grin her suggestion had inspired. Henry leaned into me, his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think that means what you think it means, Chance.”

  “Shh,” I waved him away, eyes fixed on the closing door to my rooms. “Let me have my fantasies.”

  The sound of the latch snapping shut released me from my lustful thoughts and I focused again on the puzzle at hand, turning to Henry with a furrowed brow. “What did Cadence mean, ‘you can explain it to me’?”

  “Explain what?”

  “How the necklace miraculously reappeared on the banister.”

  Laughing, Henry slid his arm around my shoulders, walking us through the entryway. He glanced left and right before leaning close and whispering, “Because that’s where I hung it.”

  “Wh–what? Henry!” I pulled back from him.

  “Cadence had me retrieve it before her big reveal.” His placid face was colored by the slight upward curves at the corners of his mouth. “Are you really that surprised?”

  “Well! I–I…yes!”

  “I took it the night of the party, when everyone was tending to your father.”

  “But–” I swallowed, wetting my dry mouth. “Where on Arrhidaeus did you hide it when the EO searched the house?”

  Henry ran his hand over his chin, one eye closing as he winced. “I put it in a knot hole in the cherry tree outside my window.”

  A laugh burst free from me as I rubbed the back of my neck, almost smiling. “How did Cadence work that one out I wonder?”

  “I think we both told her,” said Henry, casting a glance behind him towards the upstairs landing. “The night of the party, we talked about how we used to put secret messages and things in trees. She must have seen the tree outside my window and made a lucky guess. And I wasn’t exactly discreet about how much I wanted it. Not that I was going to keep it for myself!” He whipped around to face me, eyes wide. “I was just going to send it in to a museum somewhere; an anonymous donation, something like that.”

  “Believe me, if Cadence hadn’t figured that part out, she would have turned you in on the spot.”

  Henry smiled and sighed. “When I came inside, I hung the necklace on the banister. I knew the EO would find it when they were milling around.”

  “Well.” It was all I could think of to say, drained as I was. I shook my head, squeezing the necklace into my palm before thrusting it at him. “Well, if it really means that much to you, Henry, take it.”

  He stared at my outstretched hand. “What?”

  “Take it, I don’t want it, and god knows you’re probably right. It belongs in a museum, where it can’t do anyone any more harm.”

  Holding his breath, Henry took the necklace from me, letting it drape itself around his knuckles. “You don’t really think the necklace had anything to do with this, do you?”

  Shrugging, I meandered away towards the sitting room where I hoped to get my hands on a large drink. “I’d rather not take any chances.”

  As if seeking a kindred spirit, my attention turned to Desdemona as soon as I entered. She stared out the window, sitting on the far side of the room, one arm pulled over her stomach and her thumb lodged between her teeth.

  I sat beside her on the couch. If she noticed me, she didn’t show it, continuing to stare out the window as if in a trance.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Me? Yes. Yes, I’ll be fine.” Lowering her frail hand from her quivering lips, she turned and looked at me with empty eyes. “Belinda really hated me, didn’t she?”

  I thought of a hundred comforting lies, but my mouth ran off on a subroutine of its own. “Yes. Yes, she did.”

  Desdemona hazarded a weak, toothless smile. “Chance…I know you never really warmed to me. But,” placing her hands over mine, she met my gaze with sudden earnestness, “I honestly did love your father.”

  “I know.” Looking across the hall and into the library, I thought of the will Dad wrote the night he died. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s pretty clear he loved you too.”

  Desdemona squeezed my hands before moving her own back to her mouth, chewing on her fingers. I fidgeted. “What will you do now?”

  She collapsed back into the couch, rubbing her arms. “I don’t know. Go back to the employment agency, I guess. Try again.”

  The tiredness in her voice broke my heart. It was the same weariness I felt, but magnified by the loss of not just family, but everything else that mattered too. I still had people in my life to support me; Desdemona was alone.

  “Listen; you don’t have to go through all that if you don’t want to.” Running my hand through my tousled hair, I tried to sound as casual as possible. “They always need typists at the office. I’m sure we can arrange for you to go back to your old job, or something like it.”

  Desdemona woke a little at that, her small mouth falling open. “You’d do that for me?”

  I mustered up a smile, shrugging. “Of course.” With a hesitant jerk, I put my hand on her shoulder. “After all, you’re practically part of the family.”

  Through all the haggardness I spotted a hint of color returning to her cheeks. “I think I’d like that. Thank you, Chance.”

  “Naturally, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, until–”

  Desdemona stood, shaking her head and smoothing out her skirt. “That’s alright; I know a place where I can stay.”

  I nodded, trying not to look relieved. “I can arrange a PT for you, if you like.”

  “Yes, thank you.” Desdemona took a step towards the door but stopped, pulling away from it like a mouse from a hole. “If you think…do you suppose it’s alright to go now?”

  While looking around the room I had once considered part of my home, the empty pit in my stomach, expanding ever since the whole ordeal began, now swallowed me whole.

  “Yes - it’s all over.”

  26

  Chapter 26

  The next handful of days passed in a blur of affidavits and statements, meetings with the district attorney, and more. I made several trips into Römer to see my father’s lawyers; despite my insistence, they were reluctant to allow Desdemona any income from the estate. But, in the end, I succeeded not just in setting up a small stipend for her, but in securing her an apartment and a position with the company as well. There was also a memorial service for my father to arrange, as well as the large task of introducing me to the staff and acquainting me with the way Halcyon Enterprises, my company, ran.

  In the middle of all this, Minerva awoke, starting her recovery by harassing all the male nurses in the facility – a promising sign of her returning health. Dad’s funeral came and went; an unruly blur, with so many strangers and vague acquaintances in attendance that I got lost in the sea of condolences.

  Solomon and Henry, who had been staying at the manor to help with all the arrangements, soon headed home to welcome Minerva back from the hospital. Busy clearing up a few final things with Solomon in my father’s study, I didn’t look up when Cadence poked her head in around the door.

  “Oh, hello, Mr. Davers.” She gave a small wave. “Sorry to interrupt, but my PT is here, and I wanted to say goodbye.”

  “What?” I shot up from behind the desk. “Goodbye? What are you talking about?”

  “Well, I’ve located a suitable apartment for myself in Römer, and have acquired a trade license so I can begin to accrue my own income, so I–”

  I strode towards her, hands outstretched, gaping at her. “W
hen– when did you do all this?”

  “Over the last few days.”

  “I could have helped you!”

  Cadence clasped her hands together. “You were busy with other things, and you’ve already done so much for me. I couldn’t ask for more help. I managed.” She leaned to one side to see around me, nodding to Solomon. “It was very nice to have met you, Mr. Davers.”

  “The pleasure was mine, my dear.” Solomon rose halfway from his seat, smiling. “I do hope we’ll hear from you soon.”

  Waving in answer, Cadence patted my shoulder and exited, all within a matter of seconds. My mind refused to work, remaining blank even as the gears whirred at a deafening pace. At last, something clicked, and I rushed out after her. “Wait a minute, wait a minute!”

  Cadence turned with a confused grimace, which deepened into something like alarm when she saw me running towards her, arms waving in the air.

  “Just hold on!” I reached her a few feet away from the front doors, my breathing labored as I clasped her shoulders. “I don’t–? Why do you–? Couldn’t we–?”

  All the questions were answered in my mind as soon as they came shooting off my tongue. I dropped my hands from her. Of course, she couldn’t stay. I had never intended her to. And why would she want to? Drawing my hand down my face, I attempted to regain some composure. “Do you have a mobile or something?”

  “Not yet. But I may in future.”

  I threw my hands into the air, bringing them down against my legs with a smack. “Well, how am I supposed to keep in touch with you then?”

  Cadence began tapping on the back of her hand, the same trill of beats that had become so familiar to me. “Are you sure you want to keep in touch?”

  “Of cou–” Dropping my gaze from her face, I slid my hand into my pocket, pride preventing me from agreeing too fast to such a question. “Well, yes, I– I may want to look you up at some point. Or the Inspector might – for the case, you know.”

  Cadence looked away, the tip of her tongue poking out from between her teeth. “I’ve acquired a stall in the Entertainment Market. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.” She glanced at me from beneath her brow with a shaky smile. “I’ll be around if you need me.”

  She placed both hands on my shoulders, her fingers still tapping, the heat of her through my clothes as delicious as ever. Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against my cheek.

  “Goodbye, Chance.”

  The distinctive hum of a PT from outside was the only sound aside from my shallow breathing. Cadence stepped away and, without another word, turned on her heel, scooped up her bag, and left.

  I stared at the closed portal at a loss. Cadence wasn’t coming back. The black hole in my chest began to suck at me again, the drowning sensation interrupted by a polite cough.

  I glanced behind me. Leaning around the study door, holding onto the frame with one hand, Solomon flashed me a quick smile, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder. “Chance, if it’s alright with you, I think I’ll head home now.”

  The down-to-earth nature of his request brought me back to reality quicker than a slap in the face. I strode over to him, rubbing my cheek red. “Sure, sure! Of course, yeah.” I gestured to the desk. “Would you like me to call you a PT?”

  Stepping back from the door, Solomon waved. “No, no need. It’s such a lovely day, I think I’ll walk.” The study door, the one which led outside, stood open, the room filled with sunshine for the first time I could remember. Solomon walked through it, giving a last salute in my direction. “I’ll see you at work, I’m sure.”

  I tried not to let that thought terrify me, and in distracting myself from it, I remembered something else.

  “Solomon, before you go–”

  He stopped just over the threshold, pivoting on the ball of one foot like a dancer.

  “Cadence, she…she had this odd little habit of tapping her fingers. She seemed to do it all the time: on tables, herself, even on me, occasionally. Does that–I mean is that some sort of animanecron…thing? Would you know?”

  Solomon dropped his other foot to the ground, eyes widening. Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, Chance, you…you have to understand that in many ways, animanecrons are much more physical, much more conscious of the bodies they inhabit, than humans. Affection and love are more physical for them than for us, in many ways. They developed this, this amazing lexicon of body language to indicate various types and levels of… social attachment. You see?”

  I stared at him and waggled my head ‘no.’ He sighed, massaging his temple. “Her tapping is actually strings of binary code repeated in sequence. It doesn’t translate very well into Common Tongue, but it’s her way of expressing her feelings for you. Her…affection.”

  “Oh.” My eyes darted around the room for several seconds before I remembered Solomon was still there. “Uh, oh. Well, that’s…yes. Thank you, Solomon.”

  He nodded, smiling in a way that made the sudden prickling of hair all over my body feel somehow indecent. Alone, I collapsed into the armchair nearest the door, letting the cool breeze soothe my feverish skin. I wanted to have a nix, but didn’t; I wanted to take the coldest shower in existence, but I didn’t do that either. Amid the sweet smell of Arrhidaean grasses blowing through the open door, and the distant chirping of birds in the ash grove, all I could do was think about her. I knew I would for the rest of my life.

  About the Author

  Robin Jeffrey was born in Cheyenne, Wyoming to a psychologist and a librarian, giving her a love of literature and a consuming interest in the inner workings of people’s minds, which have served her well as she pursues a career in creative writing. She holds a BA in English from the University of Washington and a MS in Library Science from the University of Kentucky. She has been published in various journals across the country as well as on websites like The Mary Sue and Introvert, Dear. She currently resides in Bremerton, Washington. More of her work can be found on her website, RobinJeffreyAuthor.com.

  Robin would like to extend her sincerest thanks to everyone who made this book possible, from her editor and sister Megan Jeffrey, to all her beta readers, to her husband Philip Allen, and to everyone who ever encouraged her to sit down and put words on paper. Without those supportive voices, she never would have made it this far. Thank you.