Death of Riley by Rhys Bowen Page A

relaxed instantly.
    “Molly, what the devil are you doing here?” Daniel Sullivan asked.

T en
    Daniel's face was ashen as he took my arm and helped me to my feet. “I could have killed you,” he muttered. “Are you all right?’
    “I think so. Once my heart starts beating again, I'll be fine.”
    “And just what do you think you are doing here?” He sounded angry now.
    I was so flooded with relief and the sheer joy of being close to him again that I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Cleaning up,” I said. “I came to clean up the place.”
    “Clean up the place? So it's a Mrs. Mop service you're running now, is it? Who asked you to clean up the place, I'd like to know?”
    “The police, if you must know.” I started brushing myself down. A lot of dirt had accumulated on that floor in the past couple of days. Also brushing down my skirt meant that I didn't have to look at him.
    “And why would they have asked you in particular?” He came to stand very close to me, his presence still unnerving. But I wasn't going to be unnerved.
    “I worked for Paddy,” I said. “I kept the place clean for him. I was just doing my job.”
    Daniel looked amused. “You worked for Paddy?” “I did indeed. I was fast becoming his right-hand woman.”
    “Now I've heard everything. Paddy hated women. He wouldn't touch one with a ten-foot pole.”
    “Ah, well, he didn't actually touch me,” I said, “but he liked me well enough. I was helping him around the office. He was showing me the tricks of the trade.”
    I could see this sinking in. “So it was Paddy who taught you how to throw that cape over someone's head?”
    “No, I invented that for myself when I couldn't find anything I could use as a weapon.”
    “It was quite effective.”
    “Not effective enough. You still got me.”
    Daniel stared at me long and hard, then shook his head. “So you were serious when you said you were going to be an investigator.”
    “I'm always serious. And I don't toy with other people's affections either.” I had recovered my equilibrium enough to remember that I shouldn't be glad to be talking to Daniel.
    “Molly, I'm really sorry,” he said. He reached out to touch my arm. I shrank away. “I wasn't trifling with your affections. Everything I felt for you—feel for you—was genuine.”
    “And yet you're betrothed to another woman. So what were you waiting for, enough money to set me up in a quiet little flat somewhere as your mistress? I hear it's all the rage in polite society. But I wouldn't know. I'm only a peasant girl. Where I come from, if you dally with a woman's affections, you're expected to marry her.”
    “Damn it, Molly. You know it's not like that.” He reached out to grab my arm. I neatly sidestepped away.
    “What other choices are there? Unless you're about to drag me out west with the Mormons where they can have two wives, although I can't see Miss Arabella Norton in a covered wagon, somehow.”
    I thought I saw the twitch of a smile on his lips. “If you'd let me try to explain.”
    I brushed him away. “Either you're betrothed or you're not. It's as simple as that. And if you are betrothed to another woman, then there is no place for me in your life.” He tried to say something but I held up my hand. “If you want to explain something, you might tell me why you were creeping in here like a thief in the night, frightening me out of my wits.”
    “Ah, good question/' he said.
    “And the good answer is?”
    He looked at my face and laughed. “All right, you've caught me. I was snooping. Paddy was doing a spot of work for me, on the quiet. I was distressed to hear he had been killed, so I thought I'd come by to take a look for myself. Wolski doesn't take kindly to interference.”
    “But you're his superior officer. Why didn't you take the case yourself?”
    “I'm in the middle of another investigation and I wasn't on the spot, so Wolski was assigned to this one. I can't officially step on his