“And wore kitchen gloves,” said Charlotte. “There was one in the secret room and another in the car. Do the gloves have his prints?”
“I’m afraid not. He must have worn his personal gloves under the kitchen gloves. Protects the latter from his prints, and the former prevents any DNA evidence. Smart man.”
“Mary is a witness,” Charlotte said. “I think she saw Mallery go into the secret room with Wattlesbrook and come out alone. And after he pushed the car into the pond, she helped him wash the mud out of his costume.”
“That’s an avenue we will pursue, but in your opinion, how readily will Mary testify against him?”
Charlotte sighed. “Not very.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to confess to the whole lot. So I’m afraid the only strong piece of evidence we have against our man is his confession to you.”
“He was pretty direct about it in the cottage, and that was after a couple of days of hiding. I don’t see how he’ll claim that was still part of the game.”
“He’ll try. I’m very sorry, ma’am, but I have some bad news for you. I can’t have you leave the country right now.”
“What?” This possibility had never crossed her mind. “But I can’t stay. I’m leaving today. Right now, actually.”
“I know it must be a terrible inconvenience. You have a job to return to?”
“Yes. Well, no, I can work from anywhere. But my kids …”
“Of course. Could you find a place for them to stay? Or even bring them here?”
Charlotte felt as if she were filled with helium and floating just above the ground.
“Bring them here …”
“Yes, I’m afraid that if you don’t stay, you’ll be coming and going an awful lot, and as you make up the entire case against a murderer—”
Charlotte began to pace. “No, no, I understand. I have to stay. You’re ordering me to stay.”
“Well, I might put it differently—”
“I’m essential to the case. My testimony is paramount. I would be neglecting my humane duty if I went home now. Everyone will have to understand. You need me.”
“I suppose, in so many words …”
“If I went home now, I’d practically be as guilty as the murderer himself!”
“Well, I don’t know …”
“Charlotte!” Eddie stirred the mist as he ran, and it swirled around him like dancing ghosts. “Charlotte, you’re going, aren’t you?”
“I was …”
“For shame!”
She’d been right to try to slip away. Just the sight of his face made her legs feel soft, and it’s hard to run away with soft legs.
“You want me to stay,” she said, believing it already.
“Of course I do!” he shouted.
“That’s good,” she called back, “because Detective Sergeant Merriman has absolutely forbidden me from leaving the country! It’s Mallery’s fault. He made me a key witness.”
Eddie was running faster. “You mean, you must stay here, in this very county, for the foreseeable future?”
“Indefinitely!”
“I know it must be a terrible inconvenience?” the detective mumbled.
But she didn’t say any more when Eddie reached Charlotte. He put his arms around her and lifted her, spinning around.
Charlotte used to wonder why people did the spinning thing in books and movies. Now she knew. She felt it. Eddie’s arms were around her and they were together, they were one, solid in the center of everything. Outside, the world was fast and blurry and dizzying and strange. Inside, everything made sense. Inside, the only clear things were Eddie and Charlotte. Both Charlotte and her Inner Thoughts were thinking the same thing: hooray, hooray, hooray.
“Indefinitely,” Charlotte said again as if it were the most important word in the world. The great expanse of the Atlantic became irrelevant. It would not flood between them. She would stay in England.
He put her down, his arms still around her waist.
“I woke up with a cold fear that you would talk to your children and feel guilty and decide that I probably don’t really feel anything for you so it would be better just to leave quickly.”
Charlotte gasped. “How did you—”
“A woman without hobbies is dangerously self-negligent. Looks like I owe Mallery for keeping you around. Happily, these trials can drag on forever.”
“Months and months,” she said.
“Years, even,” he said.
“I’ll fly my kids over.”
“And perhaps rent a flat in London.”
“Do you know a good neighborhood?”
“I rent near Chelsea.”
“I’ve always wanted to live in Chelsea. At least, I would have always wanted to live in Chelsea if it had occurred to me before. As it has now. It has definitely occurred to me.”
“You’ll love London. I love London. I’d love to see you in London.”
“I’ve seen London. In fact, I’ve seen France.”
“Do go on,” he said, his eyes turning all bedroomy.
She kissed him. It was all she wanted to do. Kiss Eddie. She dropped her bonnet and let the wind blow it away to part the mists and put her arms around him and kissed him. Her eyes were closed and she felt as if the world were still spinning.
Remembering their audience, Charlotte peeked. The detective was sitting in her car and watching Eddie and Charlotte without shame, as if they were silhouettes on a screen at a drive-in movie. She rested her hand and cheek against the window and sighed.
“Come on,” said Charlotte, taking his hand. “Let’s go for a swim.”
He squinted. “Truly?”
“I’ll protect you from the dangerous fishies.”
He picked her up and carried her across the lawn. His arms were becoming a common means of her transportation.
“As you wish, my darling. After all, I have become an expert at your buttons and lacings.”
Home, present
Here’s the thing about home: you can create it most anywhere, as long as you gather your people around you. Charlotte was surprised by how readily Beckett took to the move, plied with promises of stateside trips to visit his friends. Lu seemed at home at once, especially after meeting Eddie’s daughter, Julia, her mentor in all things British. The chance to meet Alisha also sweetened the deal. James would fly over periodically to have some quality time with his kids without stepmother Justice, who didn’t have a passport and refused to get one for mysterious ideological reasons. Charlotte’s other people—her friends, mother, and brother’s family—loved the excuse to visit England, especially on her dime.