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A barmaid came for their orders. Detective Palmer took it upon himself to order Leo a beer and a steak and kidney pie, same as his fare. She bit back the urge to change her order but didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention. It would be better to appear as two people content to be out having a meal together. Remaining pleasant might also buy them a few moments of the barmaid’s time when she delivered their meals.
“She’s still closer in age to her lover than she is to her husband. Mr. Pierce is at least twenty years her senior,” Detective Palmer commented once the barmaid left. “Whatever his age, the young man was reckless for dallying with an Angel’s wife.”
“Perhaps it was that danger that drew them to one another,” she said. “I wonder how they met.”
Especially since the territories belonging to the East Rips and the Angels did not intersect.
“I would wager it isn’t some romantic story, Miss Spencer. Save those hopes for the novels you read.”
She bristled. “I am not seeking romantic stories. If we knew how they met, we might have another lead to follow.”
“Desmond hasn’t any idea how they met. He said his wife’s routine was consistent. She went to work at Mary Hobson’s bakery Monday through Saturday from seven until three. Sundays, she went to church. Religious sort.”
“No children?”
He shook his head, his eyes continuing to rove over the tables in the pub. Leo did not believe Tabitha Pierce was going to suddenly appear.
The barmaid returned to deliver their mugs of dark amber beer. Leo raised a hand to stop her from leaving. “We are looking for a friend of ours and wondered if you’d seen her.”
Detective Palmer met Leo’s eyes over the rim of his beer mug. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or impressed by her audacity to question the barmaid.
“Aye?” The woman, who appeared wise to the world and fed up with her job, waited with a furrowed forehead. “What’s her name, then?”
“Tabitha,” Detective Palmer answered. “She comes here now and then. Thought we’d meet up with her.”
He tried on a smile, and to Leo’s astonishment, it was somewhat charming. The barmaid, however, was immune. She pursed her lips, peering at them with suspicion.
“How d’you know her?”
“Church,” Leo answered swiftly. “We usually share a pew, but we didn’t see her last Sunday.”
“Haven’t seen her, sorry,” the barmaid said. She took a chary glimpse toward the bar, then said, “Take my advice? Stop askin’ ‘round. This ain’t the sort of place wants you stickin’ your beak in.” She left their table swiftly.
“She clearly knows something,” Leo said, gripping the handle of her mug. She didn’t care for beer, but nerves had made her thirsty. She sipped the bitter, room temperature brew and tried not to grimace.
Detective Palmer suddenly garbled a crude oath under his breath and lowered his chin. He turned his face to the side as if trying to avoid being seen.
“What is it?” Leo asked, twisting to see what had affected him.
“Don’t look—”
His warning came too late. The sounds of the busy pub muffled beneath a rush of blood in Leo’s ears as Andrew Carter entered the Golden Harp.
She faced forward again, wishing for the ability to melt into the wood of her chair and sink from sight entirely. Briefly, she imagined that in a crowd as large as this, he would not see her. Awareness bored into her, however, and she knew she’d been noticed.
Slowly, Andrew passed their table. Leo lifted her eyes and met his icy blue ones, which were already pinned on her. His flat, cold gaze rested on her, a flex of his brow the only sign that he was surprised to see her. He wasn’t alone; the same men he kept with him at all times were at his side. Andrew’s lips curved into a slight grin, and he tipped his hat before continuing past their table. Andrew stepped behind the bar, as if he owned the place, and then through another door into a back room.
Once he was out of sight, the sounds of the pub came rushing back. Including Detective Palmer’s harsh voice: “How in the bloody hell do you know Andrew Carter?”
She snapped her attention back to the private detective. “I saw his wife die,” she explained. “Inspector Reid and I worked together to solve her murder.”
Detective Palmer took a long gulp of his beer, then pushed back his chair. “That’s just fantastic. You’ve drawn the kind of attention we don’t need. I knew Castelan was making a mistake with you. Time to go.”
As he reached into his pocket to pay for their meals, Leo stood. Coming here had been a mistake. And something told her it would be Jasper who paid the price.
Chapter Fourteen
Leo and Detective Palmer split up after leaving the pub, taking separate cabs to bear them each home. She anticipated trouble, though she didn’t quite know what form it would take. Having been seen at the Golden Harp by Andrew Carter had been a serious misfortune. Whether it was for her or for Jasper, she did not know yet.