Page 82 of Murder in Moonlight
“Monster, sit,” he said more severely.
To his astonishment, the dog sat back on its huge haunches. Solomon threw it a piece of carrot, which the dog caught in its massive jaws with a lightning-quick snap that was still somehow terrifying, even though his tail actually twitched.
Monster barked, and Solomon threw another piece of carrot. It seemed they would be fine until the vegetables ran out.
*
Deborah Winsom waspanting as she almost fell in the front door of Greenforth House. She had not run—she couldn’t—but she had walked very fast, as though all the fiends of hell were after her. At any moment, she expected to hear the screaming as Monster attacked. Perhaps the dog would get bored and leave him alone…
“Randolph!” she cried as soon as she was over the threshold. James the footman gaped at her. “Where is my son?” she demanded.
“In the library, ma’am, with Mr. Bolton.”
“Fetch him!” she commanded, collapsing, wheezing onto the ornate but uncomfortable chair that was kept in the hall for visitors one didn’t want even in the reception room.
James started across the hall immediately, but the commotion of her arrival must have already alerted most of the household, who had begun to gather for luncheon. Miriam and Ellen rushed out of the morning room. Peter leaned over the banister. Constance Goldrich seemed to be flying down the stairs. Randolph stuck his head out of the library door.
“Mama? What the…” Seeing her all but collapsed, he strode toward her, Thomas following more sedately, a concerned frown upon his face.
With a massive effort, Deborah heaved herself to her feet and staggered to meet her son. “Randolph, Monster is loose! Hehas poor Mr. Grey cornered in the woods! Near the cave where you used to play as a boy. You have to stop him before he kills someone! Shoot him or lock him up or—justgo, Randolph! You’re the only one who can do this!”
White-faced, Randolph stumbled past her toward the door.
“Wait,” Thomas said urgently. “You’d better take a gun. I’ll fetch the key to the gun room.”
“How did he get out?” Miriam demanded as Randolph brushed past her in Thomas’s wake. “You should have shot him when he attacked the kennelman.”
“Easy to be wise after the event,” Deborah said. She was recovering her breath now, though she still trembled with fear. “It’s not so easy to kill a creature who loves you. Oh, hurry, Randolph!”
Ellen, the dear child, put her arm around her mother. Randolph, his set face determined, hiding his fear of what he would find and what he would have to do, marched past, armed with his shotgun. However this ended, it was going to be so awful for him. Deborah could not bear it.
“Don’t worry, Deborah,” Thomas said in passing. “I’ll go with him, and we’ll deal with it. All will be well.”
When he touched her shoulder in a comforting sort of way, she wanted to shake him off. Instead, she stumbled after them out the front door. Ellen hung on to her as if afraid her mother would try to go with them.
Which seemed to be what Mrs. Goldrich was doing. With neither bonnet nor cloak, her face white to the lips, her eyes dark with some turbulent emotion, she stormed past Deborah. The others emerged from the house too, all talking and whispering at once so that she wanted to cover her ears.
And then came a bark, so deep and powerful that it could only belong to one animal. Deborah froze. So did everyone around her.
Monster loped around from the side of the house, with Solomon Grey at his side. Tall and elegant as ever, there was a casual rakishness about him that she couldn’t quite fathom until she saw that he wore no necktie. That indispensable item of a gentlemen’s attire was looped through the dog’s collar as a short, makeshift leash that he held in one alarmingly strong hand.
Deborah’s legs gave way. She would have fallen if her daughters had not been holding her up. A collective gasp sounded from all the watchers.
After an instant of stunned paralysis, Randolph started forward. So did Monster, who had been walking quite sedately at Grey’s side. Everyone else fell back toward the house.
“I brought your dog back,” Grey said mildly.
It was, in its way, rather magnificent.
*
When the commotionarose, Constance had been in her bedchamber, writing down every fact and every suspect she knew of, and connecting them up with lines. By the time she heard Mrs. Winsom crash into the house, calling for Randolph, she had paper spread all over the floor. But at the panic in the widow’s voice, she sprang up and ran from the room, bolting for the stairs.
Even now, her terrible vision of Solomon being dragged to the ground by the snarling mastiff, its teeth tearing at his beautiful golden throat, faded slowly. It took a moment to adjust to the unlikely reality of Solomon strolling so carelessly beside the beast, connected by his necktie.
“I brought your dog back.”
Solomon and Monster might have been the best of friends, although Monster clearly reserved that honor for Randolph.With another earth-shaking bark, he jumped, placing his huge paws on his master’s shoulders to lick his face.
