Page 121 of The Lyon Whisperer
“Ididknock,” Chase cut in calmly, setting the bucket aside. “When no one answered I grew concerned for your welfare.”
Dodd curled his lip and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He groaned and clutched his head in his hands. “Right. My welfare. What do you want, then, guv’ner? I’ve things to do.” Heaving in a breath, he rose onto stockinged feet and swayed a little as he hefted up his trousers.
The scent of Dodd’s stale breath, and remnants of his recent alcohol consumption, merged with the foul odors in the bedchamber to assault Chase’s senses.
The creak of rusty hinges announced the front door opening. Chase gritted his teeth. “I’m sure.”
He stalked from the room to find Amelia standing in the open doorway. The sun streamed in from behind her, illuminating her slender, graceful form.
Dressed in her pale-yellow traveling dress and matching bonnet, she looked delicate and completely out of place in the dingy cottage. She wrinkled her nose, whether at the disheveled state of the dwelling, or the malevolent odor, he couldn’t say.
“Quite. Leave the door open. It’ll help to air the place out.”
Dodd came into the living space, muttering under his breath, eyes squinting against the light. He gaped when he spotted Amelia, then a burst of energy had him darting toward her, arms flung wide. “My angel,” he exclaimed.
Chase reacted in an instant, lunging forward to fist Dodd’s collar in his hand. He jerked the man to a halt before Amelia managed a chirp of alarm.
“What the devil?” Chase snarled. He flung Dodd toward the table and chairs. “Do you have a death wish, man?”
Dodd issued a pitiful moan. “You ain’t her, my golden-haired angel from heaven.” He sank onto one of the wooden chairs, shoulders slumped, and dropped his head in his hands.
Chase exchanged a look with Amelia—hers expressed bafflement, his a stern message of reproof. He’dtoldher to wait outside. Adrenaline singing through his veins, he strode for the table, yanking out a chair. He gestured to the seat. “Madam?”
She shook her head, eyeing the furniture dubiously. “Thank you. I will stand.”
He grunted, then shifted his attention back to Dodd. “Pull something like that again, and it will be the last thing you do,” he said with deadly menace.
Dodd glared up at him. “I thought the lady was someone else.”
Chase returned the man’s glare.
Amelia inched farther into the room. She cleared her throat. “Mr. Dodd, we have a few additional questions for you concerning the recent fires. Isn’t that right, my lord?”
Chase sent her a quelling look.
She pretended not to notice.
“What?” Dodd demanded. “I already told you, I don’t know nothin’ about those fires, not to mention there ain’t been a fire since the last, and there ain’t going to be.”
His deliberately slow, calculatedly feral smile had the desired effect, and Dodd went very still, as if he realized what his last statement revealed. “That did not come out right. I only meant—”
“I knew it was you,” Chase said.
“You know no such thing,” he insisted, eyeing Amelia as if for assistance.
“But you did,” she said in her gentle, melodic voice. “When you claimed no further fires would occur. Who else but the arsonist could make such a claim, sir?”
His eyes got a hunted look. “It wasn’t me, I tell ya’.”
“It was you.” Chase leaned in. “But you did not operate alone. Tell me the name of your partner and I’ll instruct the magistrate to go easy on you. You have sixty seconds to decide.”
The haggard man’s face crumpled. “What does it matter? It was my angel who planned it all for me, and now she’s gone.” Tears filled his eyes, and he reached for the brown bottle, cursing when he discovered it empty.
Chase straightened. “Your partner is a woman?”
He nodded.
So much for his theory Tully had been behind the fires. “Her name? Where can I find her?”
