At the Drop of a Hat by Jenn McKinlay Page B

in the station.
    Inspector Franks led the way and we followed behind him like two good little ducklings. The station was a bustling box full of phones ringing, loud conversations and a drunk slumped in the corner who looked to have peed himself. Lovely.
    Inspector Franks led us down a narrow hall, leaving the noise and chaos behind us as we went. I felt myself breathe a little bit easier as we went.
    Glass-walled offices filled this section of the station and he led us to one of these. A wooden bench ran along the hallway and he gestured for us to take a seat.
    â€œI won’t be long,” he said.
    We watched him walk into the office area and talk to another man. I wondered what he was saying. Was it his superior? Was he reporting in? I really hated not knowing what was going on.
    I turned to Ariana to ask her what she thought, but the words caught in my throat as I saw one fat tear slide down her cheek and drip off her chin.
    â€œAriana, are you all right?” I asked. Which really was the stupidest question ever, wasn’t it? Her boss was dead, she’d found him broken and bloody, how all right could she be? Gah!
    She wiped the tear away and sniffed. “I’m afraid they’re going to think I did it.”
    â€œOh, no,” I said. “They won’t. You’ll see. I’m sure it was all just some horrible accident.”
    â€œBut what if they find out?” she asked.
    â€œFind out what?”
    â€œThat I wanted him dead,” she said. She looked at me, and for possibly the first time in my life, I was speechless.

Chapter 7

    â€œWhat? I—” I began but I was interrupted.
    â€œMs. Jackson, would you come in here, please?” Inspector Franks stood in the open doorway.
    I rose to go with her, but Franks shook his head at me. “Not you, Ms. Parker.”
    I grabbed Ariana’s hand before she left, and I hissed, “Do you want me to call someone?”
    She shook her head, looking bereft, and turned and followed Inspector Franks into the glassed-in room.
    The door had barely closed when I was calling Viv. I’d thought I was doing okay until Ariana had dropped that little word bomb on me. She wished him dead? What the hell did that mean? Oh, my God, were we working for a killer?
    â€œScarlett, where are you?” Viv answered on the second ring. “You should have been back ages ago. Please tell me you did not take it into your head to go shopping. Are you at Waterstones on Kensington High Street, faffing around browsing books while Fee and I work ourselves to death?”
    â€œNot exactly,” I said, knowing that Viv’s faffing around meant procrastinating; otherwise I might have been offended. “Although I am still in Kensington.”
    â€œOh, Barker’s Arcade, is it then?” she asked.
    â€œHonestly, Viv, I came here on business, do you really think I’m out shopping?” I asked. I was feeling just the teensiest bit put out.
    â€œI can’t think of any other reason why you haven’t returned,” she said. “Oh, dear.”
    â€œOh, dear, what?” I asked.
    â€œYou haven’t picked up a bloke, have you?”
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    â€œWell, you are an incorrigible flirt, and according to Nick and Andre, Anthony Russo is quite the ladies’ man.”
    â€œSo you think I picked him?” I asked. “What do you think I’m doing now then, shagging him?”
    Okay, I can admit it, I was outraged.
    â€œWell, this is the longest you’ve ever gone without a boyfriend,” she said. “You could be highly susceptible to—”
    â€œA womanizer?” I asked. “Really? Because the last rat bastard I dated, the one who caused me to take my vow of celibacy, wasn’t bad enough?”
    â€œGood point,” Viv said.
    â€œI’ll say it is,” I snapped. “And even if I had been inclined to get tangled up with the man, which I am not, it