Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,12

to repeat her earlier brush with frostbite, she staggered back into the house only long enough to exchange her shoes for a pair of boots and pull on her cloak and gloves. Emma danced around her shins, shamelessly begging to come along. By the time Katherine staggered outside with her pug trailing on a leash behind her, Katherine had lost sight of her friend.

Tarnation! She bit her tongue to keep from cursing aloud as she walked briskly to Dr. Gammon’s house. Although the swarm of neighbors had dissipated, several professionals roamed the grounds, stamping down the crisp white snow. Lyle was among them, conversing with a much shorter man with a swarthier complexion. Katherine bit her tongue to keep from calling his name as she hastened toward him. For all that they were fast friends, he was here in an official capacity. Had he not been, he surely would have called on her.

Pausing outside the ring the men of Bow Street had cleared, Katherine drummed her fingers on her thigh as she waited for Lyle to look up from his conversation. Emma strained at the end of her lead as she vigorously sniffed at a corner of the snow. Katherine’s breath fogged in front of her face as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. When Lyle at last noticed her, she raised her hand in greeting, a half smile turning up her lips.

He met it with a quizzical tilt of his head. Wasn’t he happy to see her?

She beckoned him closer. He exchanged a few short, whispered words with his companion before loping toward her. Emma bounced on her back legs, her tail wagging vigorously to greet him. He ignored the dog, planting himself squarely between them and the door to the house—a house to which Katherine desperately needed to gain access.

“Katherine? Why are you here?” Lyle divided his attention between Katherine and her dog, who pawed ineffectually at his shin.

“You didn’t stop in to say hello.”

Having successfully won Lyle’s attention, Emma rubbed her nose on his leg. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the cold. Katherine, on the other hand, wished she had found a scarf or hat before leaving the house.

“I’m working.”

“So am I,” Katherine said. She stamped her feet to stave off the tingle in her toes. “Or I’d like to be. Dr. Gammon lives two doors down from me. You can’t expect me to ignore a neighbor’s sudden and suspicious death. He was a friend.” Her voice softened with the truth of her last sentence. She drew in a long breath to quell the wave of moroseness threatening to crash over her again.

Lyle’s pale eyebrows knit together, and his frown deepened. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I. Have they found anything conclusive?”

He hesitated. “You aren’t consulting with Bow Street. I know I’ve helped you in the past, but…”

She grasped his arm, tugging him an inch closer, so their eyes were on the same level. “Lyle, there’s more. I’m certain Dr. Gammon was murdered. I was with him only last night, and he was in perfect health. This makes no sense.”

Emma whined as if supporting Katherine’s claim.

His face an impassive mask, Lyle looked at each of them in turn before he peered over his shoulder. With a sigh, he turned back. “I haven’t investigated the scene myself, you understand. But Hampson there has, and he didn’t find signs of foul play. The windows and doors are intact, and the physician seems to have died peacefully in his sleep. There is no indication of a theft or struggle. This time, your suspicions may be unfounded.”

Katherine had thought that Lyle would take her suspicions more seriously. She and Lyle had known each other ever since her first meeting with the Royal Society for Investigative Techniques. He had been her faithful friend ever since, at times seeking her help and at times giving it.

“Lyle…” She met his blue eyes again, holding them and willing him to remember their shared history.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I trust you, and I’ll take your suggestion under consideration due to our shared history. Your insights have been valuable in the past, but if the victim was your friend, you may be too close to this.”

“All I ask is that you walk in there with an open mind. Or better yet, let me walk with you. When I was here last night, he told me that he had misgivings about an old patient. He was poring over his notes, but I