At the Drop of a Hat (6 page)

“What? I—” I began but I was interrupted.

“Ms. Jackson, would you come in here, please?” Inspector Franks stood in the open doorway.

I rose to go with her, but Franks shook his head at me. “Not you, Ms. Parker.”

I grabbed Ariana's hand before she left, and I hissed, “Do you want me to call someone?”

She shook her head, looking bereft, and turned and followed Inspector Franks into the glassed-in room.

The door had barely closed when I was calling Viv. I'd thought I was doing okay until Ariana had dropped that little word bomb on me. She wished him dead? What the hell did that mean? Oh, my God, were we working for a killer?

“Scarlett, where are you?” Viv answered on the second ring. “You should have been back ages ago. Please tell me you did not take it into your head to go shopping. Are you at Waterstones on Kensington High Street, faffing around browsing books while Fee and I work ourselves to death?”

“Not exactly,” I said, knowing that Viv's faffing around meant procrastinating; otherwise I might have been offended. “Although I am still in Kensington.”

“Oh, Barker's Arcade, is it then?” she asked.

“Honestly, Viv, I came here on business, do you really think I'm out shopping?” I asked. I was feeling just the teensiest bit put out.

“I can't think of any other reason why you haven't returned,” she said. “Oh, dear.”

“Oh, dear, what?” I asked.

“You haven't picked up a bloke, have you?”

“What?” I asked.

“Well, you are an incorrigible flirt, and according to Nick and Andre, Anthony Russo is quite the ladies' man.”

“So you think I picked him?” I asked. “What do you think I'm doing now then, shagging him?”

Okay, I can admit it, I was outraged.

“Well, this is the longest you've ever gone without a boyfriend,” she said. “You could be highly susceptible to—”

“A womanizer?” I asked. “Really? Because the last rat bastard I dated, the one who caused me to take my vow of celibacy, wasn't bad enough?”

“Good point,” Viv said.

“I'll say it is,” I snapped. “And even if I had been inclined to get tangled up with the man, which I am not, it would be hard to get anything started with him since he's dead.”

“What?” Viv cried. “Scarlett, I must have misheard you. What did you say?”

“Anthony Russo is dead,” I repeated very loudly and very clearly.

The line was silent for so long, I was sure we'd gotten cut off.

“Hello? Viv? Are you there?”

“Yes, I'm here. Explain.”

So I did. I paced the hallway while I told her all about my arrival at Mr. Anthony Russo's place of business, the discovery of his body, the arrival of Inspectors Franks and Simms and my current location at the Kensington Police Station.

Viv waited until I was done and then asked, “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” I lied. “But I'm very worried about Ariana.”

“I'm going to call Harrison and send him over,” Viv said.

“Oh, don't do that,” I cried.

Harrison had been riding to my rescue since the day I arrived in London. I really couldn't bear it to have him find me in yet another pickle. At least this one was definitely not of my own making, but still, it was getting embarrassing.

“But that's why we have him,” Viv insisted. “To sort out these types of situations for us.”

“No,” I insisted. “I'm sure I'll be long gone before he could even get here.” Big fat lie. Judging by what Ariana had said, things were even more complicated than I had supposed.

“All right,” Viv said. She sounded reluctant. “Keep me up to date on what's happening.”

“Will do,” I said.

I spied a Klix vending machine at the end of the hallway wedged in between two bathrooms. I strolled over and considered my options. It offered everything from hot soup to tea, but the thought of a hot cup of coffee soothed in ways that no tea or soup ever could. I dug through the bottom of my purse looking for the needed pence.

I had just chosen the Kenco smooth black with sugar when I heard the tread of heavy steps and raised voices coming toward me. I spun around and there he was. Damn it, Viv!

Harrison, looking annoyingly handsome in his charcoal gray suit with a burgundy tie loosened at the throat of his crisp white dress shirt, was striding toward me with two other men. All three were talking animatedly but hadn't seen me as yet, so I took the opportunity to turn back to the machine and pretend I hadn't seen him. My accelerated heart rate made a liar out of me, but I ignored it. How in the heck had he gotten here this fast? And what was he going to say about this latest kerfuffle I found myself in?

Putting off the explanation I knew I was going to have to make, I stared at the machine and waited for my cup to dispense. What was I supposed to say exactly? It was unreasonable that I should feel guilty, as if I'd had anything to do with Russo's falling to his death. My timing had just been its usual spectacular self, causing me to be at the wrong place at the wrong time . . . again.

When I turned from the vending machine, braced for the conversation to come, it was to find the hallway empty. I studied the empty space and took a sip from my thick paper cup. Okay, was I hallucinating Harrison? I mean, I knew our relationship was complicated, but if I was starting to imagine him there when he wasn't, well, maybe it was time to reconsider my current vow of celibacy.

A door was thrust open to my left and a familiar dark-haired, green-eyed man popped his head out.

“Ginger, there you are,” he said. “Come along then.”

Okay, so I hadn't hallucinated Harrison Wentworth's appearance. That was reassuring. My relief was short lived as my annoyance at his arrival took over.

“Harry, what are you doing here? Did Viv call you? She said she wouldn't. I mean, it's ridiculous. I really don't need any help.”

He watched me rant for a moment looking amused—which was even more annoying.

“I had no idea you were here until Ariana just told me,” he said. “Now would you care to join us or did you want to stay out here alone, stewing about everything?”

I lifted my coffee cup to my lips and studied him over the rim. The steam off the hot liquid felt good against my skin. I took a long sip before lowering the cup.

“I'll come,” I said.

He pushed the door open for me and I strode past him into the office area. Desks were set all around the room, usually two together so that the people faced each other. Several offices lined the wall and it was one of these that Harrison led me toward.

The two men Harrison had arrived with were already in the room with Ariana. I didn't see either of the inspectors as Harrison pushed the door open and we joined the group.

“Oh, Scarlett, you're still here,” Ariana said as she rose from her seat. “I'm so sorry. I had no idea that this was going to take so much time.”

“It's no problem,” I said. I did not mention my cranky talk with Viv.

“My fiancé got my message, and came straightaway with friends,” she said. “Scarlett Parker, this is my intended, Stephen Whitcomb, and his friend Alistair Turner. And, of course, you know Harrison.”

I shook Stephen's hand. It was a firm shake, dry and cool and perfectly appropriate. He glanced at me briefly, but his gaze stayed on Ariana and it was clear that he was worried about her. He was dressed casually in khakis and a pullover polo shirt. His straw-colored hair looked slightly mussed and he had a ruddy tinge to his cheeks as if the cold air outside had given him a good cheek pinch from a favorite aunt.

He took Ariana's hand and kept it in his, offering her steadfast support without being suffocating about it. I liked that.

I turned to Alistair to shake hands as well but he rejected that and instead brought my hand to his lips, where he kissed the back of it. Oh, wow. Not many men could pull that off nowadays and still come across as manly, and boy howdy, did he ever.

He was in a suit like Harrison's but his was black. He wore a pewter shirt underneath with a thin black tie. His dark hair was chin length in a side-parted blunt cut, giving him a roguish look that was only enhanced by his wicked smile.

“It's a pleasure, Scarlett,” he said.

“I'll say,” I said as I stared back at him.

“Your charm is wasted on her, mate,” Harrison said to Alistair. “She's taken a vow of . . . er . . . not dating anyone for a year.”

“Tragic!” Alistair exclaimed. He turned to Harrison. “Is that your fault?”

“My fault?” Harrison frowned at his friend. “How could it be my fault?”

“Did you break her heart?” Alistair demanded.

“No!” Harrison and I answered together.

You'd think this would cause us to have a moment of accord, but no. Harrison glared at me, obviously put out that I was so quick to answer in the negative.

“It's a long story,” I said.

“Excellent,” Alistair said. “We'll have to go out for pints so you can give me every sordid detail. Glad it's not your fault, Wentworth. I'd hate to have to mess up that pretty face of yours with a thrashing.”

“As if you could,” Harrison scoffed.

“Excuse me,” Stephen said. “Not to take away from your manly crowing, but we have a situation here that needs tending, yes?”

“Quite right,” Alistair said. He looked at Ariana and said, “Let me see what I can find out from the inspectors. I'll be right back.”

He left our small room and walked out into the maze of desks. He seemed quite at home here and I gave Harrison a questioning glance.

“He's a barrister,” he said. “What you in the States would call a defense attorney, I believe.”

“Oh,” I said. “Did Stephen call you?”

“No, the three of us were having lunch together when Stephen got Ariana's message from your phone. We hurried over to the office but she had already been taken here.” He paused and studied me. His look was warm and approving and I felt it all the way down to my toes. “It was good of you to come with her.”

“It was the least I could do,” I said. I glanced over to where she and Stephen had their heads together. He was whispering in her ear and she was nodding. Her lips were pressed tightly together as if she was trying very hard not to cry again.

“She'll be all right,” Harrison said. “Stephen is a good man. He'll get her through this.”

I glanced back at him. “So Alistair and Stephen are both friends of yours?”

“Rugby mates,” he said with a nod. “We've been playing together for years. You should come to a match sometime.”

I looked at him. Was he inviting me as an old friend, a new friend, a woman he had recently kissed senseless? How was I to know? And, I scolded myself, why did it matter? I was not interested in him or anyone. Right?

“I'm sure Viv, Fee and I would love that,” I said. My voice sounded stiff.

“Excellent. I'll let you know when we have our next match,” he said. His voice was as starchy as mine.

What had happened to our easy friendship? Oh, yeah, he had kissed me and that now sat between us like a big hairy beast.

“Excellent,” I parroted him. Yeesh, if the conversation became any more wooden, I'd be picking splinters out of my tongue. Bleh.

Much to my relief, Alistair reappeared. He gave Ariana an encouraging smile. “The inspectors thank you for your cooperation and have said that you're free to go.”

Ariana sagged in relief. Stephen kissed the top of her head and said, “Come on, love, let's get you home.”

Harrison and I went to follow them but Alistair stopped me with a hand on my elbow.

“I'm sorry, Scarlett, but you're not dismissed yet.”

“What?” I asked. “Why?”

He gave me a sympathetic glance under very long thick curly eyelashes that made me positively green with envy. Such beautiful lashes were wasted on a man, okay, maybe not on him, because, well, wow. But still, I could really put lashes like that to use.

“The inspectors asked to speak with you particularly,” Alistair said.

I drew my attention away from his lashes and focused on his words.

“I suppose I have no choice then,” I said.

Ariana glanced around at me with horrified eyes. “Oh, no, I'm so sorry, Scarlett. Here, I'll wait for you.”

“No,” I said. “It's fine. Inspector Franks and I go way back. He's practically a favorite uncle. Go on ahead.”

Stephen gave me a grateful smile but Ariana looked unsure. I stepped close and took her hands in mine. “You've had a terrible day. There's no need for you to stay for me. Truly, I'll be fine.”

“I'll wait for her,” Harrison said. “In fact, I'll even go in with her. Inspector Franks and I go a ways back as well.”

“Are you quite sure?” Ariana asked.

“Absolutely,” I said. “Tell you what—why don't you pop over to the shop tomorrow and we can discuss your hat in greater detail. All right?”

Ariana gave me a watery smile. Then she unexpectedly let go of my hands and hugged me tight.

“Thank you for everything,” she said. “I don't think I could have gotten through this day without you.”

I patted her shoulder and she stepped back. Alistair gave me a small smile and a wink before following after Ariana and Stephen.

Once they had disappeared, Harrison turned to me and asked, “Well, should we go see what the good inspectors want?”

“I suppose,” I said. “I mean, it can't be as bad as last time, right?”

“Well, at least you're not a suspect this time,” Harrison said. “So I'd say that's a leg up.”

We worked our way down the corridor until we found a small office.
Detective Inspector Franks
, read the small sign beside the third door on the right. The door was closed so I knocked twice.

There was a window that looked into the office, which made me wonder why there was a door. To muffle the sounds of an interrogation? Or maybe the window was to monitor the activities of the good detective? Curious.

“All right,” Inspector Franks called, and I turned the knob and opened the door. The small space was made smaller by the presence of both Inspector Franks and Inspector Simms. Harrison and I wedged our way in, standing behind the two chairs in front of the inspector's desk, while Simms leaned against the far wall.

“Ah, Ms. Parker, thanks for stopping by,” he said. “I see you've brought Mr. Wentworth with you.”

“No, I didn't,” I said. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I sounded too defensive. How could I explain the turmoil that being in close proximity to Harrison caused me? I couldn't. I cleared my throat and tried again. “What I mean is that he offered to wait and I agreed.”

“Very nice of you, Wentworth,” Inspector Franks said.

“I'm known for it,” Harrison said. I saw Inspector Simms smile.

As I took in the sparse appearance of Inspector Franks's office, I did notice he had a framed picture of Alan Jackson on the wall behind him. I remembered the first time I'd met him how he'd loved that I was from the States and assumed being from Florida that I would be a fan of country-western music. His personal favorite being Alan Jackson, he had sung a bit for me, and in all fairness he had a decent set of pipes.

“Still singing?” I asked him.

He smiled and the ends of his mustache turned up. “Every Tuesday evening at the Barmy Badger, you should come around.”

I nodded. I had no intention of going but it seemed rude to be so blunt. Then again, maybe I should go. It couldn't hurt to have a friend on the police force.

I turned to Simms. “Do you sing as well?'

“Oh, no,” he said. He looked horrified at the thought. “I'm more of a darts and billiards man myself.”

“Did you want to talk to Scarlett about something specific?” Harrison asked. It was an obvious attempt to get the conversation back on track and everyone nodded as if in agreement that it was time.

“If you'll have a seat, Ms. Parker—Scarlett.” Inspector Franks gestured to the two available seats shoehorned into the corner of the cramped room.

I slid into one and Harrison followed, folding himself into the other.

I put my hands in my lap and tried to look composed. I was definitely feeling like a kid sent to the principal's office, but that was ridiculous since I really had done nothing wrong.

“About this morning,” Inspector Franks began. “I had a few questions for you.”

I nodded.

“How long were you in the house before you heard Ms. Jackson scream?”

I blew out a breath. I tried to think how long it might have taken me to walk into the house, assess the empty room and hear a scream.

“No longer than thirty seconds,” I said. “I'd just gotten my bearings and found the building when I entered and
bam
. Ariana screamed and I followed the noise out to the backyard and found her crouched over his body.”

“She was crouched, you say?” he asked.

“Yes, she said she had just checked for a pulse.” The image of his lifeless body, broken and bloody, flashed through my mind and I shuddered.

“And he was dead?” Simms asked.

“Yes, I checked him as well,” I said. “There was no pulse, no rise and fall to his chest, nothing.”

“But you didn't see or hear anything before the screams,” Inspector Franks asked.

“No, sir,” I said.

“So you have no way of knowing how long she may have been sitting with that body?” Inspector Franks asked.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He stared at me, waiting for me to put it together.

“You think she was waiting for me, so she could pretend to have just found him?” I asked. “But that's crazy.”

Inspector Franks's mustache twitched up on one side while Simms's unibrow lowered ominously.

“I don't think crazy is exactly what you meant there,” Harrison said. He looked alarmed by my lack of tact. Really, you'd think he'd be used to it by now.

“No, of course not. What I mean is that Ariana didn't know I was going to stop by her office today,” I said. “Your question implies that she knew I was coming and was waiting for me, but since she lost her phone, I couldn't call her and tell her I would be by. It was a complete coincidence.”

Inspector Franks rubbed his mustache as if considering what I'd said.

I sincerely hoped that they realized I had nothing to do with anything and let me go home soon. Apparently my gross-out of the morning had passed and I was now hungry enough to eat black pudding, an acquired taste, and I'd even ask for seconds.

“Thank you, Scarlett,” Inspector Franks said. So we were back to my first name. I took it as a good sign. “You've been most helpful.”

“I'm free to go?” I asked.

“Yes,” Inspector Franks said. “But, of course, we may have follow-up questions.”

“Of course,” I said. “Anything you need.”

He glanced from me to Harrison. “Can we still reach you at the same address?”

I felt my face get warm, which was ridiculous since Harrison and I had nothing going on. We were just business associates and friends of a sort. It was the inspector's implication that we might be more that had me flustered. Could he tell that I had a thing for Harrison? And if he could, could Harrison? That was mortifying. I had tried to keep things very casual between us over the past few months.

“Yes, same address,” I said.

“Thank you for your time,” Simms said. “We appreciate it.”

He pushed off the wall, and Harrison and I rose from our seats.

“Anything to help,” Harrison said. He shook hands with both inspectors and we were on our way.

We had just cleared the building and were outside when I realized what had been a gorgeous day was now gray again; not only that but judging by the wind, we were about to get a soaking.

“Come on, Scarlett.” Harrison grabbed my hand and began to run. I hurried after him and we jumped onto a red double-decker bus just in time.

We both used our Oyster cards to pay the fare and then Harrison took my hand and led me deeper onto the bus. It was crowded so he gave up on seats on the lower level and we climbed the very narrow staircase behind the driver to the next level. The top was mostly empty so we took a small bench at the front overlooking the roads.

I watched the rain trickle down the large flat window. My mood went with it. It could have been hunger but I felt downright surly.

“You look like you want to tear the mickey out of someone,” Harrison said.

“More like I want to tear the ham out of a sandwich,” I said. I sounded whiny and didn't even care.

“We can grab a bite on the way,” Harrison offered.

“No, I'd better get back before Viv has a conniption,” I said. “In fact, I should text her right now.”

I opened my purse and searched for my phone.

“Although what I am going to say to her, I have no idea,” I said. “I mean, honestly, what the heck could have happened to Anthony Russo? A person doesn't just fall off a roof. And what was he doing up there anyway?”

These were the questions that had been dogging me ever since the police had shown up.

“There must be some logical explanation,” Harrison said. “We've had a lot of rain. Maybe his apartment had a leak and he went to check it out.”

“Wouldn't he call a handyperson for that?” I asked.

“Maybe,” Harrison said.

“Also, if it was a leak, he would have mentioned it to Ariana, don't you think?” I said. “That's the sort of thing you say to someone, and as his assistant, it seems likely she would have called a repairman.”

The bus tipped just a little as the driver took a sharp turn. I slid ever so slightly into Harrison and it reminded me of the first time I had seen him since we were kids, when he picked me up upon my arrival in London and we shared a cab to the shop on Portobello.

Just like then, I was a bit too aware of him as a man. The urge to bat my eyelashes and say something flirty was almost more than I could stand. Instead, I puffed out my cheeks as I blew out a breath and righted myself.

“Well, if he didn't fall, then what are we left with?” Harrison asked.

“Suicide?” I suggested. I hated to say it but throwing yourself off a building was definitely one way to go.

“No note left behind,” Harrison said. “At least, if there was, the inspectors are keeping it to themselves.”

“Maybe someone pushed him,” I said.

“Wouldn't Ariana have seen someone in the house?” Harrison asked.

“She didn't mention seeing anyone, and I'm sure the inspectors must have asked her if anyone else was there,” I said. “According to Nick and Andre, Russo was quite the playboy so maybe he had a visitor up in his apartment, you know, one who spent the previous night.”

“So he went upstairs to have a little afternoon delight and instead she pushed him to his death?” Harrison asked. “He was dressed, wasn't he?”

“Yes,” I said. “Believe me, it was bad enough as it was. Naked and dead and I'd require therapy.”

“So no hidden lover then,” Harrison said.

He turned to look out the window. He was drumming his fingers on the windowsill and his lips were pursed, obviously sifting through the different possibilities that had led Russo to his death.

I was relieved as it gave me a minute to get myself together. Sitting so close to Harrison while debating another person's love life made me think of Harrison in ways I should definitely not be.

I was only a couple of months into my “no men” lifestyle, which was hardly anything to brag about at this juncture. My cousin Viv, however, seemed to be a master at it. As far as I knew, she hadn't been involved with anyone in years. At first I had thought she and Harrison had a thing, but no. They were best buds but that was it.