Page 27 of A Raven Realized (The Raven’s Den #5)

Chapter Seventeen

S imon was exhausted, body, mind, and soul.

He’d spent another week conducting interviews and interrogations.

Last night, for the second time in three days, he and Timms had been sent on an “errand”.

That was the innocuous name the Intelligence Services used, but it meant he’d taken yet another man’s life.

“Where’s the coffee you promised?” Simon asked Timms as he dragged himself into the office.

“Already on your desk.”

“Thank you.” He gulped down the hot liquid, praying it would give him some much-needed focus.

One thing was clear, he needed to find that bloody vicar so he could leave this job before it destroyed the few remaining traces of his soul. He was grateful for the experiences and skills it had provided him, but his heart had been done with it for a long time now.

In reality, he didn’t know how much better it would be working for Ash, but at least Ash knew the truth of who Simon was. That counted for something. And presumably, he’d be able to see his sister regularly, and know she was safe and well. But first, they had to find that goddamned vicar.

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be home in bed?” Timms asked. “You look unwell.”

“I’m fine,” he said grumpily. “Can we spend today tracking down that blasted vicar?”

“In a hurry to leave us?”

Simon froze with his cup halfway to his mouth for another drink. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s fairly obvious this fake marriage scheme is the only thing keeping you here.”

“Is it?”

Timms chuckled. “Sometimes I think you forget that I’ve had the same training as you, Allister.”

“Good,” Simon said, diverting the conversation away from himself. “Let’s use that training to find the bastard then.”

Three hours later, Simon threw down his pen, ink smudging his fingers. There was no bloody connection to where he’d been seen. Why was this man so hard to track down? He stretched his arms and twisted his body from side to side.

Warwick had seen what happened to all the others, including his brother, who had been the mastermind of the whole thing.

His brother had made all the connections and taken all the payments, and for that, he’d paid with his life.

So Warwick knew the consequences of being caught, and was working hard to stay hidden.

Timms burst into his office. “We’ve got him!” He rattled a paper in the air.

“What do you mean?” Simon’s heart raced, but he had to be sure he didn’t misunderstand.

He set the telegram on Simon’s desk. “I mean, we’ve got him. We’ve got the bloody vicar. Or at least, I think we do. He’s being held right now, and you and I are going to bring him in.”

Simon was already reaching for his coat. “Where is he?”

“He’s up north, not far from where we arrested his brother, actually.”

They’d arrested his brother on Ash’s estate, which was as far north as you could go before crossing into Scotland. They wouldn’t be going home tonight. Not that it mattered. He had nothing to go home to.

They spent most of the long train ride in silence, but there was a burning vehemence that seemed to fill the air around them. Timms may not be as personally connected to this case as Simon, but he’d poured a lot of himself into it, and was eager to bring it to a close.

Part of the reason they didn’t speak much was because they were both afraid of getting overly excited, only to be let down. They’d been on more than one trip together that was supposed to be to collect Warwick, and when they’d arrived, it wasn’t actually him.

Following the train was still a lengthy cab ride to get to their destination. The man was being held in a small jail.

After the officer verified their identities, he led them back to see him. As they approached the cell, the man inside turned to face them. He had a black eye and a swollen lip, and his hair was long and disheveled, but it was unmistakably Warwick.

Triumph rushed through Simon, and he had to hold back a roar of victory.

This man had not only prevented Simon from moving forward with his life, but had hurt so many women with his actions, including his sweet sister.

She didn’t deserve what happened to her, and Simon longed to return every moment of that pain in full.

But unfortunately, he couldn’t. All he could do was taunt the man.

His punishment would be decided by a judge.

“You’ve played quite a challenging game of cat and mouse, Warwick.”

He sneered, but Simon could see the fear in the man’s eyes. That, combined with his evident injuries brought him at least a little gratification.

“What you don’t realize is the chase just makes catching you that much more satisfying.”

Simon turned to Timms. “What do you think is worse, a lifetime of hard labor or the noose?”

“I don’t know.” Timms shrugged one shoulder. “What do you think, Warwick? Which one are you hoping for?”

The man swallowed but didn’t speak.

“I can assure you, I will enjoy watching whichever one you’re sentenced with,” Simon promised.

After looking their fill and riling the man a bit more, Timms and Simon confirmed his identity with the officers on duty. The relief of having found the man was extraordinary. As much as he’d like to kill the bastard, seeing him behind bars was a close second.

“It’s too late to put him on a train tonight, so we’ll be back to collect him in the morning.” Simon was not about to leave the task to someone else.

“Well,” Timms said as they left the building. “I suppose we need to find an inn for the night.”

“Actually, do you remember where we picked up his brother?”

Timms nodded.

“It’s not far from here, and I’m fairly sure they’ll let us stay there for the night.”

Timms raised a skeptical brow. “Woodburn Hall? Why would we be welcome there?”

“Well,” Simon said with a shrug, “Lord Ashdown and I have become a bit… friendly.”

His eyes widened. “Is that who you’re going to work for? He’s the one with the gaming hell, right?”

“That’s the one. And yes, I will be going to work for him. Assuming he’ll still have me.”

“What will you be doing for him?”

Simon laughed. “I’ll let you know after I start the job.”

“Well, if you think we might be welcome, I certainly wouldn’t turn down the prospect of something more comfortable than what we’d find at any inn around here.”

A short time later, Simon rang the doorbell of the imposing house. Admittedly, he was a bit nervous. It was possible they could just turn them away. But when the butler opened the door, he raised his brow in recognition.

“Mr. Allister. What can we do for you, sir?”

“Well, we’re up here on similar business to my last visit. Arresting the man’s brother, in fact. We find ourselves in need of beds for the night.”

“I am not the person to make such decisions, but come in.”

Even though Simon had been in this house before, he’d forgotten just how much lavishness lived within its walls. The butler led them to a large drawing room.

“Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll have some refreshment brought in and inform Mr. Gibson of your arrival.”

A tray of tea and cakes was deposited on the table a short time later. Just as he finished filling his cup, a man who looked remarkably like Ash, strode into the room. Different surname, so perhaps a brother from the wrong side of the blanket?

“Mr. Allister, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Trent Gibson. I’m the manager here. Moulton says you were the one to arrest my predecessor.”

“That is correct. This is my colleague, Samuel Timms. He was here for that as well.”

“I suppose I owe you both my thanks, then. I wouldn’t have this job without you.” He flashed a teasing smile. “Of course you’ll be welcome here for the night. I already have two rooms being prepared.”

“That is very kind, Mr. Gibson.”

He waved his hand. “It’s not as if we don’t have plenty of unused rooms.”

“Well, your hospitality is appreciated all the same.”

“I hope you weren’t expecting to see Ash—Lord Ashdown, I mean. He doesn’t reside here.”

“I am aware. I’ve spoken with him a few times in London.”

Mr. Gibson nodded. “Do you need any food, baths, or anything else before you turn in?”

“No, thank you. Beds are all we require.”

A little girl poked her head into the room and Simon smiled at her. Trent turned to look and shook his head.

“Maggie, what are you doing out of bed?”

She padded into the room. “I heard men and I hoped it might be Uncle Ash.”

He picked her up and settled her on his arm. “It’s not Uncle Ash. This is Mr. Allister, and Mr. Timms. They’re going to be staying here tonight.”

“I am going to be seeing your uncle Ash soon, Maggie,” Simon said. “Do you want me to give him a message from you?”

“I have a picture for him!” Trent set her down, and she ran from the room. Simon chuckled. She was adorable.

“Uncle Ash, huh?”

Mr. Gibson shrugged. “They don’t actually have any relation.”

“But you clearly do.”

“And apparently it’s obvious. We must both take after our father. Hopefully only in appearance and not in nature.”

Running footsteps could be heard before Maggie burst back into the room, a piece of paper rattling in her hand. She ran straight to Simon and held it out. “It’s a pony!”

“Did you paint this?” The shape vaguely resembled a horse, but she had obviously put in effort to make sure it was white with large brown splotches.

She nodded animatedly.

“Well, you are talented.”

“Trent says I can’t have my own pony, but one day, I want one just like that.”

“I will give your beautiful painting to your uncle Ash when I see him. I’m sure he’ll treasure it.” And if Simon knew the measure of the man, there would soon be a young pinto mare delivered here, just for her.

“It’s time for you to go back to bed now, Little Mouse.”

“Will you read to me again?”

Trent shook his head. “You know you don’t get another story when you get back out of bed.”

“Please?”

Simon bit his lip to keep from laughing. That little girl knew exactly how to get what she wanted.

“Go on up. I’ll be up in a few minutes, and we’ll see.”

She smiled, knowing she’d won, and then ran from the room.

* * *

When Madelene came in from her morning walk, she found Selma in the front sitting room with guests.

“There you are!” Selma beamed at her and waved her into the room.

Donna was seated on the sofa opposite, along with a man, who was probably her son. He quickly placed his dishes on the table and got to his feet. Suppressing a sigh, Madelene walked over to join them.

“Donna was passing, and wanted to see how you were settling in.”

Madelene forced up the corners of her mouth. She should be grateful for the kindness, but she knew what was coming.

“I’m well, thank you.”

“That’s wonderful.”

As Donna stood, Madelene braced herself. “I’d like to introduce you to my son, David. He was helping me on my errands today.”

He stepped forward, a kind but nervous smile on his round face. He gave a half-bow as he reached for her hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Lund.” A blush crept beneath his freckles. Perhaps he was just as uncomfortable as she was.

“Likewise.” She tried to at least sound gracious.

His shoulders relaxed, even as he continued to grasp her hand. Madelene looked down at their hands, and he quickly let her go, clearing his throat.

It was hard not to laugh. Not at him, just the awkwardness of the situation. He was surely a decent man, but he felt more like a boy. His blue eyes didn’t hold any storminess, and he didn’t exhibit confidence, making her know he’d protect her from any threat.

Madelene did sigh this time. Simon . She closed her eyes for a moment before seating herself.

Selma poured her a cup of tea, and as she handed it to her, she patted the back of her hand.

Madelene could hear her father’s chastisement.

Ingratitude is unbecoming. She needed to do better.

These people had gone out of their way to call on her.

The least she could do was show them some kindness.

“Tell me about what you do, David.” She sipped her tea.

“I see to the cows, mostly. They’re a lot of work.” He shrugged, but sat a little taller. “Is it true you came from London?”

“I was only there a short time, actually. I grew up on a country estate, not unlike this one.”

“What was it like in a big city like that?”

“I didn’t see very much of it. But it was loud, chaotic, dirty, and somehow magical.” Most of that magic was probably Simon. But there was Suzy, who was a wonderful woman. Bonnie, the flower seller, the bookshop, the park.

Not until that moment did she realize she missed all of that too.

“I’d like to visit London one day. Perhaps you could show me the places you enjoy.”

Madelene’s lungs stopped working. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, before rushing for the door. Tears were coming, and she would not be able to stop them.