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POOR FIONA LOOKED dishevelled.
Bob was nursing her with the greasy breakfast the maids had rustled up for us but she could barely keep her head off the table. Good thing their kids were teenagers and Bob’s mum loved nothing better than taking them on trips. It might take a while for Fiona to sober up.
Edwina bustled in with more painkillers and perched in the chair on the other side of Fiona. “Sophie left me a message to say that she will not entertain you leaving until you’re in a correct state to be seen in public.”
Fiona gripped her head, her thick glasses slipping. “I love her. She’s so wonderful.”
Bob raised his eyebrows. “Then why haven’t we visited more often?”
Fiona squinted as she eyed him. “She’s only been home three years.”
“Yeah and we’ve only seen her for Will’s fifteenth in the summer.” Bob furrowed his brow. “I don’t get it.”
“She’s Lady Sophie Elizabeth Ann Haye De Breton,” Fiona half-slurred, half-mumbled. “Her family have intermarried with the royal family for over a thousand years.” She peered at him with a wince. “That’s like asking why I don’t visit Buckingham Palace more often.”
I held up my finger. “I know this might sound strange but if she’s so regal, why isn’t someone royal stepping in to help her?”
Edwina sighed. “Because she refused their help as she feels that it would only draw negative attention to them.”
I leaned on my fist, my clean plate forgotten. “That’s so . . . noble.”
“Yes, even if it is madness.” Edwina fed Fiona her painkillers. “But she is a Haye. Duty comes first. She wouldn’t be back here if it wasn’t her duty to be.”
I met Bob’s gaze. He was lost. Then again, he was school liaison.
“Do you know where she was when she was missing?” I smiled at one of the maids who scurried in and handed me a large cup of coffee. They were far too excited about fussing over Fiona. We had the kind of dinner and breakfast that I was sure would match the Three Stars stamp of approval.
“Yes,” Fiona mumbled and met Edwina’s scowl. “At least we have a fairly good idea.” She shrugged as Edwina’s scowl deepened. “How can she help if you don’t tell her these things?”
Bob looked at me again. “I think I should go take a walk because if I stay, I’m pretty sure there might be something I should report.”
I nodded. “I’m sure there’s someone who can give you a tour.”
“Nonsense, you are aligned to this estate. Your loyalty is to Fiona.” Edwina glared at him in a way that even I hunched, then she fixed on me. “We had several reports over the years of sightings; a few were in Australia where the authorities arrested a woman matching her description, however she slipped from their grasp before the late Lord Haye could get there.”
Sophie had said she’d been arrested there. “Why was she arrested?”
Fiona and Edwina exchanged a look while Bob pulled out his phone and plugged in his earphones.
“For murder,” Edwina muttered. “Or this woman was. We cannot be sure it was Sophie, only that it was the closest we came to finding her.”
“Whose murder?” Sophie had said “I killed her” but had she meant Eugenie . . . or someone else? My stomach wasn’t digesting the right way.
“Murders,” Fiona said with a sigh, giving Bob’s arm a squeeze as he bopped to some tune on his phone. “There was an unidentified woman, one police officer, a bodyguard, and Mr Forthwright.”
I put my head in my hands. “Eugenie’s father?”
Fiona and Edwina nodded.
Oh, that was even worse. “Any idea who the unidentified woman could have been?”
Fiona nodded. “I think it was some PI that Eugenie’s father hired. He wanted Sophie’s blood after Eugenie went missing. He backed Henry completely . . . then spent years and years searching everywhere for answers.”
Sophie had said “I killed her” not them. Maybe she’d meant the PI? Maybe she meant Eugenie? Maybe I’d just given a serial killer licence to wander around untracked, covered for her, and quite possibly given her every defence she needed to get off scot free.
What a complete idiot.
“And Bunion would have been tracking her too,” I said, trying to ignore their worried looks. “If he was following her, he would have known about Australia. He’d have known what she did there.” I chewed my lip. “I need the manuscript the police have.”
Fiona nodded. “I took a few pictures but it’s like three hundred odd pages . . .” She glanced at Bob who had his eyes shut and was singing badly, so badly I couldn’t tell you what the song was. “I made a copy of the document. I wasn’t going to give it to you because I know you’d go nuts I’d copied it.”
“Fiona, you don’t need me to tell what you did is beyond stupid. You don’t want your children growing up with a mum in prison, do you?” Said me who was so innocent of perverting the course of justice right now?
“She is doing it for the estate,” Edwina said with her brow touching her eyelashes. “You were supportive of Sophie yesterday evening, now you sound suspicious once more.”
“Because I am.” I rubbed my throbbing temples—do you remember me saying that police work was stress and I didn’t miss it? Well, with the headache and stomach workout, this was close. “You read it, didn’t you?”
Fiona nodded.
“And?”
She pulled out her phone.
“Oh shit, Fiona, you have it on your phone?” I ignored the glare from Edwina but Bob had opened his eyes.
“No,” she muttered at me and pulled a memory card from the side of the phone. “I just used it to hold the card.” She slid it across the table with a sneaky smile. “I kept the protective film over it so my phone hasn’t connected to it.”
“I take it back, that’s not stupid, that’s . . .” I took the memory card from her. “Are you just moonlighting in admin between spy jobs?”
Fiona chuckled. “I’m not sure you’ll want to read much of it though.”
Edwina hurried from the room and brought in her tablet. “I never use this contraption but it’s easily hidden if the police do get a warrant.”
I smiled and inserted the card. Here went being bored to tears again.
––––––––
SOPHIE SNAPPED OPEN her eyes to the gloom as a voice called to her. She fumbled in her pocket for her phone and squinted as The Recluse peered back.
“Been a while since I woke you up.” The Recluse winked at her.
“Ewww.” The kid thunked her fist to the table. “Too much information.”
“I’ll remind you of that when you’re older.” The Recluse flicked her hand out and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Anyway, we got something for you, Darl.”
Sophie blinked to clear her fuzzy vision. “Is there a way to salvage the estate?”
“Er . . . yeah. Sophie, you are totally getting screwed,” the kid said, full of a “duh” voice and Americanized tone which earned her another hair ruffling. “Your accountant is a dud.”
“What the kid said.” The Recluse nodded. “She’s siphoning off at least twenty-five percent of your gross income and is sending it . . . to this account.” The laptop in front of her flickered into life and a lot of numbers appeared.
“This means nothing to me.” It looked like a considerable amount of numbers at least.
“It’s over a quarter of a million in six months,” the kid said with a wheezed breath. “So, basically, the accountant is trying to bankrupt you.”
She growled enough it echoed from the stonework.
“Exactly,” The Recluse said, giving the kid’s shoulder a squeeze. “You look more imposing in the light from the monitor. Cage the anger.”
Sophie clenched her jaw. “Who is she sending it to?” Sounded more like a growling bark.
“Cool it first. You’re making her shake. She’ll want me to act like a mother or something, Darl.” The Recluse held her gaze, unfazed and unimpressed.
Sophie let out long slow breaths. “It is not directed at you.” She smiled, only it probably appeared more like a snarl.
The kid shifted closer to The Recluse and shrugged.
“You said she was taking it?” The screen made no sense. Numbers meant nothing.
“Yeah,” the kid said, huddling closer still. “Some guy . . . Bright?”
She cut the line, then growled, and slammed the laptop shut.
Now she was angry.