Page 47 of Grave Expectations
"I raised Drinkwater's spirit and was then gagged so I couldn't send him back. He re-entered his body and killed his murderer before returning to the house."
He stroked his thumb across my lower lip. His steely façade slipped, revealing a flicker of raw emotion before schooling it again. "He knew his killer?"
"He'd never seen him before, but the fellow mentioned going to The Feathers to celebrate a successful commission, so Drinkwater waited for him there. He must have been a hired gunman, but he didn't divulge who he worked for before Drinkwater killed him."
Most people wouldn't have noticed the effect this news had on Lincoln, but I spotted the telltale tightening of his lips.
"His wife wanted to send him back to his afterlife again," I went on, "but he decided to stay. There was a fight, and while he was distracted, I spoke the words to return his spirit. Mrs. Drinkwater took care of his body."
"You overpowered him alone or did Gus help?"
"Gus was locked in the storeroom at the time, and I'll never have enough training to teach me to overpower a reanimated body. We had help from Gordon Thackery."
His brows shot up.
"I summoned him as soon as I woke up in the cellar. He found himself a body and returned to assist us in that guise."
He gave a firm nod. "Thackery was a good choice."
It was as much praise as I would get. It was enough.
"Lincoln, she knew so much about me. Somebody must have helped her. I suspected Doyle, since he knew we needed a housekeeper, but it couldn't have been him. He isn't aware of my necromancy. Or is he?"
"Seth wouldn't have told him."
"I hate to say this, but it must be someone on the committee."
He dragged his hand through his hair and stared at the fireplace. After a moment, he stoked the coals. Each thrust of the fire iron was more vigorous than the last until I stopped him by placing my hand over his.
"Sit with me by the fire," I said gently.
"I can't." He returned the iron to the stand. "I have to go out."
"But it's late." After midnight, according to the clock on the mantel.
"Go to bed, Charlie."
"I'd rather sit by the hearth and fall asleep in your arms."
He pecked the top of my head. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight!" I threw my hands in the air. "How is it a good night when you're going out and I'll probably have night terrors."
"I'll look in on you when I return if I hear you."
I thrust my hands on my hips. I'd been looking forward to sitting with him, being held and comforted by him, and he was heading out again! "Are you going to question the committee members?"
He turned and strode to the door. I raced past him and stood in front of it.
"Do not shut me out, Lincoln. Tell me where you're going."
"You won't approve."
He mustn't be going to see the committee members then. "Mrs. Drinkwater?"
His gaze shifted away.
"Lincoln! Don't harm her. She isn't the villain here."
