Evie pursed her lips. “No it’s not. I would’ve noticed.”
He mumbled something under his breath that she couldn’t hear, but it sounded like, “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
But then Evie replayed his office in her mind, recalling the layout of his desk. In her defense, it was hard to look at anything else when his presence demanded every ounce of her attention. But she did recall a little black rectangle in the back corner and…
“Huh, maybe it is there.”
“It’s not a maybe,” he said in disbelief. “It is.”
She waved a hand carelessly in front of her. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”
“I—” He paused and angled his body back toward the carriage. “I think I must leave before my head spins right off my neck.”
Evie nodded. Her work here was done. “Very well. Have a safe trip back. Thank you again for the ride home—oh, and the saving-my-life part as well.”
“I would accept your thanks if it wasn’t being employed by me that put your life in danger in the first place.” He hoisted himself up into the carriage, and Evie was surprised at the surge of melancholy that cascaded over her at seeing him leave.
“I’ll be at work bright and early tomorrow, sir, to make up for the day.”
“There’s no need, Sage. Take tomorrow off.” He pulled the loose glove back onto his hand, tightening his cloak around his neck.
“But why? I’m fine,” she argued.
“I’m well aware. However, the work I need your help with won’t be in the office but in the field.”
The words froze Evie in her tracks. “In the field? Are you going to make me light an empty cottage on fire? Steal a litter of puppies? Or something…grosser?”
He chuckled. “Relax, Sage. Nothing gruesome. You can wipe the lurid thoughts of blood and destruction from your mind.”
“I wouldn’t say my thoughts of blood and destruction are lurid,” she corrected, scrunching her nose.
“If you’re not opposed, I’ll need your help tomorrow evening at the Redbloom Tavern, eight o’clock.”
The Redbloom Tavern was not the seediest establishment around, but it was certainly no palace, either. Evie had gone once on a whim with a few girls in her village on her eighteenth birthday. The beer was stale, the wine tasted of vinegar, and the people were filthy and loud. All in all, she had quite enjoyed herself.
“Very well. But may I ask what you could possibly need, work-wise, at a tavern?”
He rubbed his jaw before taking the reins in both hands. “The bomb that was planted in my office.”
The mention of it brought back the smoke, the panic, the frantic beating of her heart, and she sucked in a breath.
“I recognized the timepiece. There’s only one man who could make and sell that sort of watch, the kind that can be hooked and aligned with explosives.”
“And he works at the Redbloom Tavern?”
His lips twisted downward, the dark clouds above casting a pallor of gray light on him. “He owns it.”
He looked to Evie once more with that wary sense of expectation. Like he was waiting, wondering if this was the request that would make her turn her back, would make her run.
But her stubbornness and lack of self-preservation had carried her this far. She stepped forward and nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, sir.”
A flash of relief shone on his face for just a moment before disappearing behind a mask of indifference. A sudden noise from his lips, urging the horses into action, and then he was gone.
Evie looked at the spot where his carriage had been. Where he’d just stood. Her front yard would never quite be the same place again.
And then it started to rain, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a very bad omen of things to come.
Chapter 12
Evie
It was cold tonight.
Evie pulled her brown cloak tightly around her. Not the ivory one she’d treated herself to for her birthday but the one she’d had since she was sixteen.
Worn and patched over, it was essentially worthless. Which was the only wise course when entering an establishment like this. She pushed open the doors and glanced at the clock on the far side of the wall. She was early, but only by a few minutes.
The raucous yells from the table closest to her told her that someone had just lost a valuable hand of cards, and sultry laughter said that someone was about to get lucky in other ways.
Pulling out a chair on the farthest side of the room by the window, Evie seated herself and pulled the brown cloak from her shoulders. In addition to the cloak, she’d picked out her drabbest dress. The only pitfall being the corset had to be worn over it rather than beneath, pushing her small breasts up to high heaven.