A Rogue No More - Lana Williams Page 0,28

found the murder victim would keep her mind on the task at hand.

~*~

Thomas paused on the threshold, wishing they weren’t venturing inside. The urge to protect Annabelle from whatever grisly details they were about to discover was surprising. After all, she obviously enjoyed learning about such things. His protective instincts rarely gave him pause. Not since he’d embraced his role as a rogue. He had no one and nothing to protect.

But the woman at his side threatened who he believed himself to be.

Shrugging off the unsettling realization, he studied the dimly lit office where several desks stood, each with stacks of papers on its dull surface. The area was smaller than he’d expected, though he supposed the officers who worked out of this office spent most of their time patrolling the river. From what little he knew, they had nearly fifty men and mostly used rowing galleys to patrol for criminal activity.

As Annabelle had said, the results of their efforts were impressive.

“We’re here to meet with Sean McConnelly,” he told the uniformed man who approached them.

The man pointed them toward a desk at the rear of the room and continued on his way out the door.

McConnelly lifted his head from a document he was reviewing as they neared and stood. “Can I help you?” He frowned as he took in Annabelle’s mourning attire.

“Thomas Raybourne.” Thomas held out his hand. “This is my associate, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Oh, yes.” McConnelly dipped his head toward Annabelle. “You had questions about the recent murder victim.” He gestured toward a table and chairs in a corner of the room. “Why don’t we have a seat over there.”

Thomas and Annabelle led the way and sat in the simple wooden chairs as the man joined them.

“What is your interest in the case?” McConnelly asked. He looked to be a man over forty years, which suggested he was experienced. He had light brown hair and brown eyes that held alertness, giving the impression few details missed his perusal.

The less they told the man the better as far as Thomas was concerned, but he also guessed the officer would be more likely to speak with them if they offered an explanation for their visit.

“The victim was an acquaintance of mine,” Thomas said. “We had planned to meet the following day and when he failed to appear, I became concerned.”

“My condolences.” McConnelly paused as if waiting for Thomas to explain Annabelle’s presence, but Thomas said nothing further. “I found the body on my patrol along the river’s edge just before midnight.”

“In the water?” Annabelle asked.

“No, along the bank, which was puzzling as it didn’t appear the body had washed ashore. Normally, anyone murdered near the river is tossed in with the hope of not being found.”

“The report in the broadsheet said his throat was slit.” Thomas wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. Hearing details of how someone he knew had been murdered was more unnerving than he’d anticipated.

McConnelly glanced warily at Annabelle as if uncertain how plainly to speak. “Yes. The victim had no valuables on his person, which suggests robbery was the motivation. Though why the criminal felt the need to kill him remains unclear. There was no sign of a struggle.”

“The article also mentioned something about unusual objects being found on the body.”

McConnelly shook his head. “The blasted reporters shouldn’t mention details like those.” He sighed. “A red button was found in his pocket. We can only guess the man picked it up before he was killed for some reason as the button didn’t match his attire.”

Thomas felt Annabelle stiffen beside him. “Was there also an acorn in his pocket?” she asked.

McConnelly’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you think that?”

Annabelle looked toward Thomas, but since he couldn’t see her expression, he could only guess what she was thinking.

“Mrs. Johnson is acquainted with a particular book, A Murder Most Unusual. Have you by chance heard of it?”

“Can’t say that I have. I don’t have much time to read, and when I do, I don’t read about murder. I see enough of that each day.”

“Understandable. The reason I ask is because the first murder described in the book has those same items in the victim’s pocket. His throat was also slit.”

“Are you suggesting that whoever wrote the book murdered this man?”

Annabelle gave a tiny gasp at the man’s question. “We most certainly are not.”

“Not at all.” Thomas placed enough disdain in his tone to redirect McConnelly’s attention to him. He didn’t want Annabelle to draw suspicion. “Based on the