LIBRA

13

IN THE KITCHEN, Jaysat at their table, staring out the window. He might have been staring at the garden or the birds flitting around​—​either way, it was more to have something to look at than to give his full attention.

Hetty took a seat across from the pastor, but Benjy remained standing, his hands braced against the back of a nearby chair.

For all his talk about not holding grudges, Benjy appeared to be determined to cling to this one. Sparks from the clash of wills from the other night still stretched between him and Jay. But as much as Hetty loved and respected Jay, she would not let things simmer further. He had come here not as the surrogate father with some odd tidbit of news. He was here as a client, and he would not have shown up so quickly if Valentine Duval had simply died in a sudden accident.

Silence hung in the air a bit longer before Hetty cleared her throat and spoke. “You said Valentine Duval is dead. How did you find this out?”

This question was a bit bolder than what she usually asked people who came to them in this slightly shocked state. But this was Jay, who was accustomed to such questions, was accustomed to sometimes even asking them, so these blunt words stirred him to speak.

“I visited the house this morning. We were set to meet, to talk about old days and stories I had about Raimond and a few of my friends. The household was in a bit of uproar when I arrived. There is a cousin”​—​Jay frowned here​—​“who did something upsetting. Adelaide was yelling at him about it when I arrived. The maid went to see if Valentine was awake, to break things up, and she started screaming. We all went to see what happened, and there he was.”

“In what room? What was the position of the body?” Benjy interrupted.

“His bedchamber. He was in bed, but slumped over to the side, one hand over his chest.”

“A heart attack?” Hetty asked.

“It looked like it,” Jay said.

“But you think it’s murder.” Like dropping a card in a game of noughts, Benjy placed these words down to see the reaction he would get.

Jay’s eyes flashed with irritation. “I wouldn’t have come here straightaway if I didn’t think it was a possibility. They’re going to attempt to work with Brown’s, but if you take on funeral preparations . . .”

“We can see if there’s a case,” Hetty said, quickly catching on.

“How presumptuous of you.” Benjy’s hands tightened on the back of the chair. “All we have at the moment is your word. While I respect and trust it in all other matters, frankly, sir, this is not your area of expertise.”

“Benjy,” Hetty hissed.

Jay held up a hand. “No, he’s got the right of it. This is not my area of expertise. It’s yours.” He pulled out a card with a sun and a crescent moon sketched on it. Jay waved it at them, his eyebrow cocked as if he knew they could hardly refuse him now. “The least you can do is look into it. Have Oliver examine the body for foul play, pace about the room, speak to the family, and prove it’s more than what it seems.”

“We’ll look into it,” Hetty assured the pastor, before Benjy could say a word more. “That’s all we can promise at the moment.”

Jay grunted and rose from the table. “I see. Tell me what you find, the moment you do.”

With a nod to Hetty, Jay left, letting himself out.

The moment the door swung shut, Hetty pinned Benjy back with a glare. “There’s no need to be rude!”

“Actually, there was.” Benjy pointed to the closed door. “He didn’t come here to tell us about a murder. He came here to tell about another murder within the same family. He hasn’t been shy about wanting us to renew our previous investigation, and this is just an excuse.”

“It might not be that,” Hetty protested.

When Benjy scoffed, she stepped right in front of him, placed so that he had to physically move her if he wanted to pass. He didn’t, and she stared up at him until the anger boiling in his eyes cooled. “Valentine is dead. At the very least we have a funeral to put together, which is more than we’ve had in some time. But if you don’t want to be involved, I’ll take this case on myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Benjy said flatly, with none of the bite the words could have had.

“Then don’t be so hard-headed! I know you don’t want to look at the Duvals again, but you have to admit it is curious.”

“And you see this as a chance to make amends with the pastor.”

Hetty took his hands into hers and squeezed. “I don’t like you fighting. If we look into Valentine Duval’s death, maybe we’ll settle the lingering questions about Raimond that Jay wants us to find out about. Once we do, he’ll let things go.”

“What if we find answers he likes even less?” Benjy countered. The bullish question had enough merit that Hetty couldn’t brush him off.

“I don’t think he’s afraid of that. He doesn’t want us to give up. He thinks we haven’t tried hard enough. And I don’t mind.”

Benjy, who started to speak, suddenly shut his mouth, startled by this admission.

“You don’t mind?” he repeated rather gently.

“How could I? We stopped looking because Beatty Hose was a dead end. But what if it’s not?”

“And if it is, then we’d know for certain this time.” Benjy ran his thumb along the back of Hetty’s hand. Although he sighed, he didn’t look as grim as before. “You’re stubborn as the fixed stars, you know. But you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to look into things. But if we’re going to go, there’s one place we need to go first.”