Page 50 of A Matter of Murder

“Unhand me!” Sally ordered.

But Mr. Oliver only twisted Sally’s arm, causing her to cry out. “I won’t tell you again—”

Lizzie couldn’t stand it any longer. She stepped around the corner of the church and walked briskly toward them, Darcy hurrying after her with a whispered, “Lizzie!”

“Hello!” she called loudly, infusing extra cheer in her voice. She waved at Sally and Mr. Oliver, an overly exaggerated motion that likely looked as silly as she felt, but her abrupt appearance did the trick of surprising Mr. Oliver. Sally yanked herself out of his grasp and took two large steps back. “Mr. Oliver, Sally. What a lovely surprise running into you both here.”

Lizzie hadn’t really given much thought to what she would do after that—her main priority had been to get that odious constable to let go of Sally. Now that that was accomplished, she pasted on a smile and acted oblivious to Mr. Oliver’s glare.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“I apologize if I’m interrupting” She looked significantlyat Sally, but the young woman didn’t meet Lizzie’s gaze. “Mr. Darcy and I were out for a stroll with Guy when we spotted you from around the corner.”

“All of Netherfield Park, and you choose to take a turn around the village?” Mr. Oliver asked.

“The dog enjoys a long walk,” Darcy said.

“How fortunate we ran into you,” Lizzie continued. “Have you been able to learn anything more about the possible identity of the body we discovered?”

Mr. Oliver’s scowl deepened. “No. Seems unlikely, given how much time has passed. Honoria Bingley took that secret to her grave.”

“Perhaps.” Lizzie said, side-eyeing Sally, who wore a stoic expression. “But as we’ve discovered, some things don’t stay buried.”

An oddly menacing smile slowly stretched across Mr. Oliver’s face, putting her on edge. “You’re right about that, Miss Bennet. Secrets have a way of coming to light, don’t they?”

He seemed to direct this question to Sally, who steadfastly ignored him. Lizzie considered the two of them—there was something Mr. Oliver wanted from Sally, that was clear, but she remained stoic.

An awkward pause ensued, and Darcy cleared his throat. “Will you be at the burial service tomorrow, Mr. Oliver?”

“Aye,” the man said gruffly. He looked between Sally and Lizzie and Darcy, then tipped his hat. “Good day.”

The three of them watched him follow the lane north, awayfrom the village, and disappear among the trees that hugged the road. As soon as he was out of sight, Lizzie turned to Sally. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, thank you,” Sally said, her voice clipped. “I ought to be getting on.”

“What did he mean, secrets have a way of coming to light?” Lizzie asked, causing Sally to stop abruptly and turn back to look at her.

“I don’t know, miss. Why don’t you ask him?”

Whereas Clara Jeffries had been brimming with information once they’d gotten her talking, Sally was a locked box, unyielding and reluctant to give anything up. Now was the time for Lizzie to show a little bit of her hand—not too much, but enough to see if Sally could be rattled into revealing anything more.

“I heard Mr. Oliver speaking, before we interrupted,” Lizzie said, trying to sound casual. “He mentioned something hidden in the house, and wanting a cut?”

Sally, to her credit, hardly blinked. “I wouldn’t put much stock in Mr. Oliver, miss. He might be the parish constable, but he’s hardly a reliable man.”

“I thought he said he’d been constable for fifteen years, and his father was constable before him,” Darcy said.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Just becauseyou’rea solicitor doesn’t make you a good one. Anyone can be a solicitor.”

Lizzie chose to ignore both the slight and the fact that it wasn’t true that just anyone could become a solicitor. “Are you saying he takes after his father?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that. I never met the man—it’s been Tom Oliver for as long as I can remember. No one else wants the job. But if you’re waiting on him to solve the mystery of your dead man, you might be waiting until kingdom come. The man can’t even figure out where Mr. Rowan’s cows keep wandering off to.”

Lizzie regarded Sally, realizing how neatly she’d sidestepped Lizzie question about Mr. Oliver’s comments—she hadn’t denied, but she’d downplayed and changed the subject expertly. It made Lizzie decide to change course.

“We’ve been hearing a good number of rumors about Netherfield Park.”

Sally stayed cool. “I imagine you have.” She wasn’t going to make this easy for Lizzie, that was certain.