Roses in Moonlight by Lynn Kurland

inadequate ponytail. He briefly considered a moustache, but settled for sunglasses and a bit of scruff. All he could do was keep his fingers crossed that Miss Drummond had been too distracted by paranormal happenings over the past two days to pay attention to either his shoes or his jeans, which he couldn’t change. His jacket was nondescript enough that surely she wouldn’t notice anything about it.
    He tossed his key at the night clerk on his way out the door, then walked swiftly toward the station. He sent Oliver a pointed text as he did.
    ?
    In line, came the succinct message, followed by the equally succinct, run .
    Well, he bloody well was, as it happened. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself by stumbling into the station, gasping for breath, so he did slow to a walk before he hit the doors. He told himself not for the first time that he was going to have to splash out at some point in his life for a rail pass whilst chasing miscreants so he didn’t have to waste time buying tickets.
    London by way of Sudbury.
    Sudbury? Derrick bought a ticket to Cambridge, then another to Sudbury. Aye, he would most definitely get himself and Oliver both bloody passes for the next fortnight.
    He shook his head. Sudbury? He considered possible final destinations for his little lace thief, then decided tentatively on Hedingham Castle. It was a bit out of the way for a rendezvous, but if she was trying to discreetly unload the goods she was carrying with her, it made perfect sense.
    He slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked through the crowd toward the train. He supposed he would be left buying something to eat on the train, but that was his own fault. He should have anticipated that Samantha would make an early start. He supposed he also should have anticipated that the Cookes wouldn’t want to wait too long to deliver that lace to the highest bidder.
    He loitered on the platform, watched as Samantha got on the train, then waited a bit longer to make sure she didn’t get right back off. It was possible, he supposed, that she might go another direction besides south. It had been all he could do earlier that morning not to hack into all Lydia Cooke’s accounts and see what sort of travel arrangements she’d booked for Gavin’s sister, but, again, that would have made things feel too easy.
    He blew out his breath. He needed a change, and soon, before he ruined his career and his life.
    Third car, halfway back. Seats full save next to me.
    That would have to do, he supposed. He walked down to the appropriate train car, then hopped on board at the back. He wondered absently what Oliver had done to keep that seat free. Perhaps he’d just given all potential travel companions that look he had. Derrick had known the man for over eight years and that look still brought him up short.
    He made his way without haste to the appropriate place, made a production of asking for a spot, then collapsed into his seat with a minimum of fuss. He settled in for a bit of a ride, then checked his phone.
    Interesting choice, German.
    Very, Derrick replied.
    Pair of blokes on board.
    Derrick didn’t crack so much as a smile. Bald, skinny lad and a dark-haired business type?
    Damn ye.
    Derrick did smile then, then kept himself awake by silently conjugating verbs in his rather rusty German, praying that he might not actually have to use it if he encountered the tightly laced Miss Drummond in person.
    He had the feeling that he was getting far too casual about things. It was going to come back and bite him, he was sure of that.
    He looked at the back of Miss Drummond’s head three rows and on the other side of the aisle in front of him and wondered about her. He realized he’d been in the same place the day before, but he seemed to look quite often at the backs of heads as he was following people. It might be nice, he supposed, to look at the front of a head now and again.
    Which was an absolutely ridiculous thing to be thinking.