“Sicarius! We have a problem!”
The master of Gravelorne manor stopped in the hall, holding a glass of water and two white pills. Lyle stood panting just outside the study door. His freckled face was as white as chalk. Babbling poured from the young man’s mouth like water from a burst pipe.
“Norton and I were moving that noble guy into the shed when all of a sudden I heard something in the garage. By the time I got to the driveway, the Lacrima dang near ran me over!”
Reeves shouted from the top of the stairs: “She’s gone! Busted the glass and jumped out into the hedges!”
Sicarius whistled, a smile on his lips. “Using the bushes to avoid injury? Not bad,” he quipped.
“Not bad? Not bad!?” Lyle stomped his foot, thrusting his arm at the drive. “No! Very, very bad! It doesn’t take a genius to guess where she’s going. Straight to Marinar police headquarters to tell them what we did!” He moaned, sinking into a crouch. “Why didn’t you talk to her about this before? You said you were going to tell her!”
Sicarius shrugged. “The Hightons only confirmed last night, and she was in a bad mood this morning. I thought it better to just see how things went.”
“Oh, they went all right,” Reeves scoffed. “Right out the literal window.”
The master of Gravelorne made his way to his study door, using his elbow to open the way. “A small inconvenience but nothing I can not handle.”
Lyle yanked at his hair. “Small inconvenience!?”
Reeves sighed. “Should I go after her, Sicarius?”
The silver-haired man nodded to the full moon outside. “We are already lucky she has light to navigate mountains. Stressing her with a tail will only make her drive recklessly. I have no intention of being a widower three months into my marriage.” He turned to the mechanic. “Change of plans, Lyle. Tell Norton to put the body in a car and pour a pint of bourbon down his throat. Our guest decided to go drunk driving and must have missed a turn while he was chasing after his victim.”
Lyle climbed to his feet on shaking legs. “W-what are you going to do in the meantime?”
“My wife was attacked by a madman and is now lost and suffering from a head injury. No doubt, she’s in a state of confusion. So, I will do what any worried husband would.” A vicious grin sliced across Sicarius’s face as he flipped on the light in his office. “I shall call the police and ask for their help to find her.”
Reeves scratched his cheek. “Ah… I think I get it.” He patted the redhead on the back. “Come on Lyle, let’s go find a cliff for Mr. Highton to have an accident on.”
As the footman dragged the mechanic to the front door, Lyle’s skin was still pale beneath the spattering of freckles. Each step was shaky as if he expected the hall floor to disappear from under him.
“Lyle?” Sicarius called.
The young man’s head snapped around. “Y-yes?”
The master of Gravelorne set the water down and pressed the tiny button under his desk drawer. A concealed hatch popped open. He removed a small, leather bound notebook and wagged it at his employee. “Do not worry. There is always a contingency plan.”
Lyle looked from Sicarius’s terrifying smile to the notebook before gulping. “Yes, sir.”
As the two servants rushed to find the gardener, Sicarius creased the small journal open to the ribbon bookmark. On the page was a long list of items marked “Grand Romantic Gestures.” The first four ideas, save from a runaway carriage, save from a fall, buy her pretty things, and teach her to dance, all had checkmarks next to them. Save from car troubles had a large X through it. Sicarius ticked the box next to save from a creepy man before flipping through the next few pages. As his eyes rolled over the plethora of ideas, all stolen from his books, he smirked to himself and tucked it back into the drawer. With no haste, he reached for the phone.
“Operator.”
“This is Sicarius Estrova. Please connect me to the Marinar police.” Your husband slowly twirled the cord around his long finger. “And do hurry. I’m very concerned about my wife.”