A Lesson in Love and Murder (Herringford and Watts Mysteries, #2)(6)
Of course he loved her. Loved the way she set the pace for ironing out their little spats and misunderstandings, results of their whirlwind courtship and an uprooting of their two worlds they were trying to graft together. Sometimes the barrier between them seemed greater than one of language, but then she’d look up at him as if he was the force that pulled in her tide and spun her earth. He didn’t deserve any of it, really.
He flipped open his pocket watch. He hadn’t noticed so much of the evening had ticked away with few words to show for his tired brain. He yawned and ran an open hand over his face, and then he focused his eyes on the picture inside. His sister, Viola, and his little nephew, Luca. His chest constricted as it did whenever he thought about her. When he worried about her. Was she cold? Did she have somewhere to stay? Was her good-for-nothing husband, Tony, providing for her or just hitting her again? Did Luca have enough to eat?
He grabbed his hat from the rack. When he started drifting into panic about Viola, he knew he would get no more work finished for the evening and it was time to head home.
* * *
*M.C. Wheaton, author of Guide to the Criminal and Commonplace, Merinda’s detection manual of choice.
CHAPTER THREE
A proper matron’s place is in the home, and she should devote her hours to its upkeep. It is her sphere and her haven. As such, she should commit to making it as habitable as she can: not only to ensure her husband’s comfort, but also for her own sense of personal pride and accomplishment. The best brands from the grocers, the sweetest smelling soaps and conditioners, are only a few ways in which she can transform her bower into a sort of garden.
Flora Merriweather, Guide to Domestic Bliss
Jem fluttered about with a duster and then scrubbed at the dishes. She looked at her termination letter again and hugged her arms around herself. She brewed a pot of tea and held a steaming untouched cup to give her hands an occupation rather than trembling. So fixated was she on listening for Ray’s key to turn in the lock that she almost dropped her cup when it finally did.
She straightened her back. She knew Ray would be tired. Probably in a horrible mood after a sleepless night the night before and from who knows what he had seen while pursuing his story.
Ray came in and gave her a slight smile that stayed in his eyes rather than spreading across his mouth. Nonetheless, his eyes couldn’t help but flicker a bit when he saw her, even if his face was tired.
“I’m sorry,” he said by way of greeting. He leaned down and took her hand softly, turned it so her palm was facing up, and gave her a light kiss at the wrist. Then he sank into a chair without even removing his coat.
“What are you sorry for?” She sipped her tea and offered him a cup that he refused.
“I didn’t send any message.”
“I saw the evening edition.” Jem brightened. “You did such a wonderful job! And those photographs Skip snapped made me think I was there. How did he get so close?”
“I should’ve called,” Ray said. Something in his face had changed at the mention of Skip’s name, and he chewed the side of his lip thoughtfully.
Jem wrung her hands. She had practiced. Even in front of a mirror. And now, sitting in front of him, the words caught in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then exhaled. “Ray, I… ”
Ray looked up at her tone. “What’s wrong?” He leaned forward in his chair.
“I lost my job.”
“Don’t scare me like that. I thought it was something serious. Really, Jemima, you’re shaking like a rabbit.”
“We need the money, Ray.”
He waved his hand. “Do you know how many copies of the Hog we’ve sold in the past few weeks, my love?”*
“There won’t always be these big stories! Besides, I don’t want big stories if they’re going to keep you busy. Even on Saturday afternoons.”
“I’m just surprised Spenser’s kept you as long as they did. You know their policy on married women working. You only had that job dishonestly anyway.” He grinned at her. “We’re not on the street yet.”
“We have no telephone, Ray. Some months no electricity if we can’t pay the bill. Your sister needs more and more money recently.”
“You want me to stop supporting Viola and Luca? Leave them to starve on the street?”
“Of course not! But I need you to help me figure out what to do. I’ve spent the whole evening thinking, and all I’ve come up with is charging more for cases and taking more cases on.”
Ray shrugged and said lightly, “Fine. But keep it to jewelry and pocket watches. You know I hate any of the dangerous cases.”
Jem sipped her tea. It didn’t fortify her the way she thought it would. “But we can’t live on your salary, Ray.”?
Ray’s eyes flashed. “Jem, we’ll figure something out. Maybe by the time things become truly desperate, Viola will have come to her senses and moved back here, and I won’t need to send money over to America.”
“Where will she live? With us?”
“What would be so horrible about that? You’d not take my sister and her little boy in?”
“No… no… Of course. A few weeks, perhaps, if there were no other options. Oh, it w-would… it might be nice to have them… if they had nowhere to go and… Of course I would!”