She watched as Snuggles haughtily stalked to the window, which was open to a crack, hopped out onto the small balcony, and started to make her way over to Mrs. Peak again. Harry quickly hurried after her and managed to snatch her just before she hopped from her balcony to the next.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked as she took the cat indoors again and closed the window. “Do you get special treats next door? Is that it?”
She checked Snuggles’s bowl, but it was still filled to capacity. Possibly she was simply bored with the same dry food and needed something fresh?
And she was just scooping some canned food into a second bowl, much to Snuggles’s delight, when she remembered she’d scheduled a call with her cousin.
She hurried over to her laptop, flipped it open and switched it on. And as she made herself a jam sandwich and carried it on a plate to the laptop, she kicked off her soggy sneakers, then hopped into the bedroom to change into something dry. She was just wrapping a towel around her head when the telltale sound of Skype warned her that Alice was online and calling her.
Video image of her cousin flickered to life, and she gave her a jolly wave.
“Hey, honey,” Alice said. “Did you just step out of the shower?”
“No, I just stepped out of London, which is basically the same thing.”
Alice laughed. She was a perky blonde with remarkable green eyes, and perennially in a good mood. “You should come and visit, Harry. It’s about eighty degrees out here and not a single cloud in sight.”
Harry sighed. “That sounds like heaven. I wish I could, but…”
“The antique shop, huh? Too much work? I can relate, honey. I’m actually holding down three jobs right now if you can believe it. The mortuary, the gun store, and the bakery. Never worked so hard in my life!” Harry nodded absently, and Alice’s face fell. “Are you all right? You look very pale.”
She shook her head. “Something horrible happened to me today, Alice.”
She proceeded to tell her cousin about the murder of her boss, and Alice cried, “Oh, no! You must have been terrified! How are you holding up?”
“I’m… fine, actually. Though at the moment I seem to be the only suspect the police have.” She tucked a leg beneath her and told Alice the whole story.
She and her cousin had no secrets from each other. They’d always been close, ever since Alice’s father, Curtis Whitehouse, had been stationed in London, working at Scotland Yard in an advisory capacity for five years. Since Uncle Curtis and Aunt Demitria had lived right next door to Harry’s parents, she and Alice had been like sisters. The bond had never been broken, even now, when they were thousands of miles apart.
“So they think you have something to do with the murder?”
“Judging from the look on Inspector Watley’s face, yes. And I can’t even give him an alibi, as my client would never forgive me.”
“Who is he?”
She shrugged. “Probably some rich businessman who doesn’t want to pay full price for his works of art. Most of them are, Buckley once told me.”
“Can’t you ask? This No-Neck person must be traceable, right?”
“Actually I have no idea how to get in touch with him. Buckley always made all the arrangements. I just had to show up to make the exchange.”
“If I were you I’d try to find the guy,” Alice suggested. “Otherwise you’re in big trouble, honey. The police will be very suspicious if you won’t tell them where you were.” She shook her head. “Oh, how I wish I could help you.”
She didn’t see how she could, though. Even though Alice’s father was now chief of police in the small town where he and his family lived, he had no clout with Scotland Yard. Unless…
“Does your father still keep in touch with his old colleagues?”
“He might,” Alice admitted. “Do you want me to ask him?”
“Could you? Perhaps if I can just talk to someone, I can explain what happened without betraying the client’s confidence.”
“All right. Sit tight, hon. I’ll give him a call now.” Then she paused, looking thoughtful. “You know? There’s actually someone else who might be able to help you.”
Harry took a bite from her sandwich. She suddenly found she was starving. “There is? Who?”
“He’s, um…” Alice bit her lip. “He’s a guy who knows people, you know.”
“Yes?”
Alice stared at her for a beat. “I’ll have to discuss it with him first, though.”
“Okay,” she said, a little puzzled. It wasn’t like Alice to suddenly go all mysterious on her. “Is he from England?”
“No, he’s American, but he might know someone over there who can help you.” She eyed her anxiously. “I worry about you. You’re all alone out there.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, though she realized that she didn’t sound very convincing. It was true that she was quite alone out here. Her parents had died in a car crash the day of her graduation, and since she didn’t have any sisters or brothers she basically had to rely on herself. She had an aunt and uncle up in Scotland but hadn’t heard from them in ages. The only family she kept in touch with was Alice, which was at least something to be thankful for.
Alice seemed to make up her mind. “I’m going to talk to Brian. I’m going to ask him to pull a few strings.”
“Oh, okay,” she said. “Who’s Brian?”
Alice closed her lips, her face turning red. “I, um, didn’t I mention him?”
“No, you didn’t.” She laughed. “What? Is he, like, your new boyfriend or something?”
“No, of course not! Reece and I are still very much together. You know that.”
Alice was engaged to Reece Hudson, a famous movie star. Even Harry had seen a couple of his movies. He was a great guy and loved to goof around with Harry when he and Alice came to London. The couple usually stayed at the Ritz-Carlton, just about the swankiest place Harry had ever seen. Reece wasn’t impressed, though. Said he’d stayed in far more luxurious hotels in other parts of the world. Which just went to show how the other half lived.
“Look, I’ve gotta go,” Alice suddenly said.
All this talk about this mysterious Brian had apparently made her nervous, for she flinched when Harry protested, “You still haven’t told me who this Brian guy is.”
“I’ll tell you all about him, honey. But first I need to get him to agree to something.” She gave her a long look before asking her the most outrageous question of all. “Do you still… see things, Harry?”
She frowned. “See things? What do you mean? What things?”
“You know. When we were kids, sometimes you used to tell me you saw people who weren’t really there, remember? Like… dead people?”
She laughed. “Come on, Alice. You know that was just my overactive imagination.”
“No, but you said you saw Gran, remember? You even talked to her.”
She did remember, though only vaguely. It was true that when her and Alice’s grandmother had passed away, she’d imagined seeing her, after she had supposedly passed on. The old lady had visited ten-year-old Harry’s bedroom the night she died. She’d told her that everything would be fine, and that she was moving on to a different plane but that she’d always watch over her and Alice. Later she’d begun to think she’d imagined the whole thing.
“You know that was just a dream,” she told her cousin, but Alice didn’t seem convinced. “I mean, what else could it have been, right?”