Page 83 of Murder in Moonlight
Solomon released the end of the necktie and looked at Constance. She wanted to slap him for scaring her so horribly, for the unwelcome glimpse into the depths of her own emotions, her own loneliness. She wanted to fling her arms around him and hold him and never let him go, to sing and laugh, just because he was safe.
She did none of these things. She dragged her gaze free and watched Randolph lead the docile Monster on toward the kennels. Everyone else was laughing with nervous relief, especially Mrs. Winsom, who appeared to be on the edge of hysteria as they went back into the house for luncheon.
Constance seemed unable to move.
“What happened to you?” Solomon said quietly.
She blinked and turned at last to stare back at him. “Tome? You’re the one who was having his throat ripped out by that ravening beast! Why didn’t it happen?”
“Carrots,” Solomon said.
The terrifying experience must have turned his mind. “Carrots,” she repeated.
“I keep them in my pockets, for my horses. Turns out Monster likes them too. Or, at least, he likes catching them. I don’t think anyone plays with him, and Randolph doesn’t pay him enough attention.”
She regarded him with fascination. “You are saying the dog tears people’s throats because he is lonely and misunderstood?”
“And scared,” he added.
“Solomon, you… I… Damn you, Solomon!” Striding the few paces between them, she grasped him by the upper arms as she had done last night, squeezing hard, just for an instant before she pushed herself away.
“Constance.” He caught her hand, drawing her back to face him. “What did Davidson do?”
Davidson.It seemed a lifetime ago. “Displayed his temper. He is a very worried man, wound tight as a drum and ready to take offense at anything and anyone. We are all fair game.”
“Including Winsom?”
They discussed the theory of Davidson’s taking the knife in a fit of rage one night, calming down, and then using it during a subsequent fit. “It suits his character,” she finished. “Sort of.”
“Justsort of?”
She frowned, trying to put her instincts into words he would understand. “I think he’s a bit like Monster. Volatile, worried, living on his nerves, taking offense, and lashing out first. But he can be quelled.”
“Meaning a man of Winsom’s strong character could have quelled him if he tried?”
“I would imagine so. If he got the chance. I doubt he did, because he was stabbed in the back. I don’t think Davidson would have done that. Violence flares in him, he needs to frighten, toseeyou’re frightened, but he doesn’t…hurt.”
He held her gaze. “You looked hurt to me.”
Heat surged into her face. She didn’t know why. A strange kind of shame, perhaps. “He didn’t hurt me. He took me by surprise. I have grown…unused to that kind of threat.”
His eyes searched hers, a frown tugging his brows. Disgust, perhaps. “The worst thing is that you were ever used to it. I’m sorry.”
Surprise held her speechless. He gave her no time to recover, merely placed her hand on his arm, pulling her toward the house.
“The dog,” she said, managing to drag her thoughts back to Solomon’s escape from harm. “How did he get out?” Her stomach twisted as her original suspicions flooded back. “Doyou think it could have been deliberate? Because the killer was listening last night and was afraid of our traps?”
“I don’t know yet. We should talk after luncheon. We need to finish this, Constance.”
On that, she was in complete agreement.
Chapter Eighteen
In contrast tothe long, tense silences of breakfast, luncheon was almost hysterically lively. Bizarrely, no one asked how Monster had escaped, as though he had simply barged out or eaten his way through the bars of his kennel. For Constance, now that she knew Solomon was neither dead nor injured, that was the whole point.
He was asked to tell his story, which he did as humorously as possible, and Mrs. Winsom, more animated than she had been since the murder, told of her terror and her mad dash to get Randolph to recue Solomon from his pet.
Someone had let Monster out. Constance had every intention of examining his kennel, though she imagined Randolph had already made certain it was secure.
