Ник Сайнт - Purrfectly Deadly

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?”

A slight smile played about her cousin’s lips, but then she nodded. “Yeah, probably a dream. Anyway, I’ve got to go.”

“Let me know what your father has to say, all right? I really hope he knows someone on this side I can talk to.”

“Will do, honey. Love you! Bye-bye!”

She rang off and stared out the window for a while. The rain was lashing the single pane, and the sky was pitch black, even though it wasn’t even fully evening yet. Snuggles jumped on her lap and installed herself there, purring contentedly. She stroked her behind the ears. “So it was the food, huh?” she murmured as she settled back.

She thought about what Alice had said about Brian, and wondered what that was all about. But then she figured it had nothing to do with her, and decided not to expect too much. Alice had a habit of making a lot of promises before promptly forgetting all about them. And seeing as she was so busy, it would be a small miracle if she even remembered to ask her father about his Scotland Yard contacts. If he still had any left. It’d been almost ten years since he’d returned to the States and became Happy Bays’s chief of police.

She thought back to Inspector Watley, and the dark looks he’d given her. It was obvious that if it were up to him, he’d have arrested her on the spot.

She heaved a deep sigh. “We’re in deep trouble, Snuggles,” she murmured. “If things don’t look up it’s not such a bad idea to head on over to Mrs. Peak for your kibble. She might just be your new owner from now on.”

She shivered and moved over to the window to close the curtains. For the first time in a long time she didn’t have anywhere to be the next day.

Chapter Three

Jarrett Zephyr-Thornton III was perfecting his ice skating technique when his personal valet beckoned him from the side of the rink. As per his instructions, the rink had been closed off to the public to allow Jarrett to practice in private. It was his dream to become the next big thing in figure skating, and since he’d never been on the skates before, but he’d seen all the movies, he knew that practice made perfect, so practice it was.

He was a spindly young man with wavy butter-colored hair and pale blue eyes that regarded the world with child-like wonder. As the son of the richest man in England he was in the unique position to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted to do it, and what he wanted more than anything right now was to be the next British figure skating Olympic champion.

He groaned in annoyance when he caught sight of his valet Deshawn’s urgent wave. “I told you to hold all my calls!” he cried, but the music pounding from the speakers drowned out his voice. It was the soundtrack of Ice Princess , of course, playing on a loop. Motivation was key, he knew, and he watched the movie at least once a day to keep him in the right frame of mind.

Reluctantly he finished his pirouette and swished over to the side.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he grumbled when Deshawn handed him the phone. “This is Jarrett!” he called out pleasantly when it was finally pressed to his ear. “Oh, it’s you, Father,” he said with an exaggerated eye roll. “What am I doing?” He frowned at Deshawn, who shrugged. Father never asked him what he was doing. Just as Jarrett made it his aim in life to do as little as possible, his pater made it his habit to interfere as infrequently as possible, lest he develop a heart condition. “I’m ice skating, if you must know,” he said a little huffily, fully expecting a barrage of criticism to be poured into his ear at this confession. “For what? The Olympic Games, of course. What else?”