Page 78 of The Bride Wore White

“That’s none of my business,” Maud said.

“They mentioned you,” Prudence said. “And Dr.Flood, as well.”

Maud reddened with sudden anger. “Did that bastard Rollins Dover tell you that I had something to do with what Clara did last night? Did he accuse me of helping her set the fire?”

“Not directly,” Jack said. “But he does appear to be asking a lot of questions about how Clara got herself and a homemade firebomb all the way out to my place last night. Evidently his mother didn’t know how to drive.”

“Neither do I.” Maud clutched the edge of the door. “I don’t know anything about last night.”

A man loomed in the shadows of the hallway. “What’s going on here?”

“Mr.Wingate and Ms.Ryland want to talk to me,” Maud said, her voice wooden.

“You must be Flood,” Jack said.

Harley studied Jack’s scars for a beat and then snorted. “It was your house Clara burned down last night. Rollins said you had a face that looked like it had been through a meat grinder.”

Jack did not respond. He looked bored.

Prudence smiled. “Such elegant manners, Dr.Flood. Your mother must be so proud.”

Maud drew a sharp, startled breath. She twisted one hand in her apron and stared at Prudence.

“Well, that settles one question,” Prudence said to Jack. “Mrs.Hollister is Harley Flood’s mother, just as your crime tree predicted.”

“That means Dr.Flood is Copeland Dover’s third son,” Jack said, satisfied with his logic.

Maud’s mouth fell open in shock. “How did you find out?”

“Mr.Wingate is very good at that sort of thing,” Prudence said.

“It was the only conclusion that made sense,” Jack said. “Whyelse would you let someone besides yourself get so close to Clara Dover?”

Harley’s eyes narrowed with speculation. “You’re Madame Ariadne, the psychic Clara wanted Gilbert the Golden to marry. According to the press, you give very interesting private readings. Have any more clients dropped dead since San Francisco?”

Prudence realized that Jack no longer appeared bored. He had gone dangerously still.

“I prefer to be called Miss Ryland,” she said quickly, trying to take control of the situation.

Harley grunted. “Let them in, Maud.”

Maud hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Harley looked as if he couldn’t care less about her opinion. “I’m curious about why they felt the need to drive out here to see us,” he said.

“You don’t want to have this conversation on the front steps, Mrs.Hollister,” Jack said. “Trust me.”

“He’s right,” Harley said. “This will be interesting.”

Without a word, Maud stepped back. Prudence moved into the hall. Jack followed. Harley led the way into the front room. Most of the curtains were closed, drenching the space in shadows.

Maud sat down slowly, moving in a stiff, awkward manner that made it clear she was not accustomed to sitting in a room that was generally reserved for the owners of a house and their guests.

Prudence took a chair across from her. Maud glared, her lips tightly pressed together.

Harley went to the drinks cabinet and picked up a bottle. “How about a glass of my half brother’s excellent whiskey, Wingate?”

“No, thanks,” Jack said. He did not sit down. “Does Rollins know you’re his half brother?”

---