Page 60 of Artful Deceit
“Nothing’s broken.” That didn’t seem to reassure him, but she continued anyway. “I did something today that I can’t tell you about, but I have information for you about the person responsible for the thefts.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “What information?” he finally asked.
“You should search Gideon Rowe’s place. Not just the communal spaces but his private rooms upstairs. The ones he always keeps locked.”
“Should I assume we’ll find the stolen goods there?”
She nodded.
“And how do you know this?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Because you did something you shouldn’t have?”
“Yeah.”
“Something illegal?”
“Yes. But with the best of intentions.”
“Okay.” He paused, thinking. “I don’t see why we can’t ask him to submit to a voluntary search. Especially since his place is so close to Hilary Phillip’s house.” He looked suddenly pensive. “He wasn’t there,” he said wistfully.
She put a hand to the back of her head, wondering if Silas had been right about her having a concussion since his words were confusing her. “What are you talking about?”
“I went up to the retreat the night of the break in. The guests were all sitting around outside, but I didn’t see Gideon.”
“He was also at Porthcressa Beach when…” Lily caught herself and stopped.
“When what?”
She tipped her head back and blew out a breath. “I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“When you find the stolen goods, you’ll find a black backpack. It has a little blue flower embroidered on the front pocket, and it belongs to me. I need you to get it back for me.”
His eyebrows drew together. “They stole something from you too?”
“Yes. I left the doors open when I went for a run the other morning, and when I got back, my backpack was gone.” Emotions collected in her throat, making talking difficult. “I didn’t tell you because I thought I could get it back myself.”
“What’s in it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Something illegal?”
She couldn’t answer that because she didn’t know the answer. “It’s personal stuff that belonged to my uncle. I found it in his flat after he died.” Tears collected on her lower lids. “I need you to get it back for me. Without letting the sergeant look inside the bag, and without looking in it yourself.”
“Okay,” he said after a moment.
“Okay?” Was that it? No more questions?
“If I find it, I’ll get it back to you.” He reached for her hand, lifting it to inspect the grazes on her arm. “You need to clean this. It’s got dirt in it.”
“I know, I haven’t been home yet.” The conversation had moved on too quickly, and she wasn’t convinced he’d got the message, or that he was taking her seriously. “I really need you to get the backpack to me without anyone looking through it.”
“I heard you,” he said impatiently. “But if you get sepsis because you don’t clean these wounds properly, your backpack won’t matter much.”
