Autumn by Lisa Ann Brown

noticed again that the air seemed charged with tension and fear. It was a palpable sensation. Arabel recalled how dark the mood had become when they were searching for Klara, and she knew that the hostile energy would latch onto any available current of fear.
                  “You realize that while everyone is looking for you, the real killer could be sussing out another victim?” Arabel tried to engender a sense of responsibility in Jonty.
                  “That may be so, miss, but they’d likely lynch me as soon as talk t’ me,” Jonty replied, and Arabel had to concede he could be correct.
                  “Where will you go?” she asked,  resigned now to the fact that she had no authority to keep him, and unless she wanted to turn him in immediately – which she was still undecided over – there was not much left to discuss.
                  A sly look perched upon the thief’s face. “Don’t know, miss, but I’ll need to move the caravan straight-a-ways, further back into the wilds, I reckon.”
                  Arabel had a strong, sudden inkling that she needed to let Jonty go – he would be bait for the killer. Arabel wasn’t certain how she knew this, but it was one of her intuitive flashes of insight. It felt urgent.
                  “Alright,” she said to the slight man sitting at the table with her, “you can go, and I won’t turn you in, but I want something in return.”
                  The thief eyed her suspiciously.
                  “What d’you want?” he asked.
                  “I need to know how to find you; both for your safety and my piece of mind,” Arabel replied, watching the man closely.
                  Jonty looked as if he were about to laugh in sheer, dumb relief, obviously thinking he was rid of her forever once the meal was finished.
                  He thinks I’m such a fool, Arabel mused to herself.
                  “Well now, that’s mighty fine o’ you missy,” Jonty said and Arabel realized she hadn’t yet told him her name, nor had he asked her for it. She decided he didn’t need to know.
                  Their meal finished, Arabel and Jonty got to their feet. Jonty put his bright yellow slicker back on, fastening the ties around his throat to keep the hood in place. He fished within his pockets, coming up empty handed.
                  “Would y’ look at that,” he remarked, feigning both sheepish surprise and dismay, “looks like I left all the sovereigns at me mum’s!” Jonty flashed a quick, sly smile at Arabel. “Would you be so kind as to take care of my chit?”
                  Arabel shook her head in disbelief. Jonty Governs was beyond anything she’d ever dealt with before.
                  “My crow will follow you,” Arabel announced, “so I will know where you go. And when I need you, you will make yourself re-appear.”
                  The thief nodded enthusiastically; Arabel could see him calculating in his head just how much longer she’d keep him captive in the warm confines of the dining room.
                  “Thank you miss, you’re most obligin’,” Jonty said, fake sincerity dripping from his tone. He gave Arabel a small bow before backing away hastily toward the door. Arabel watched him go and hoped Ira would follow. She sent the bird a brief telepathic message she hoped it would interpret correctly and made her way to the server to settle their bill.
                  Arabel was shown to her room and was pleased to find that it was a non-haunted room painted in soft blue and green with a rosewood desk, dresser and matching bed frame. A deep-set window seat delighted her and Arabel went to it immediately to peer out the double windows. In the distance, just crossing over the small bridge, she