Miss Morgan and the Gypsy

Twelve: Monisha

"I had no idea how much time had passed. It seemed as if the days were a long constant one with no end in sight, just going on endlessly. Finally, we left and continued on our path, Gracie would try walking, but her legs wouldn't be able to hold her up, so I resorted to carrying her. After a while I sensed we were being followed and then..."

Everything stopped and Nicu watched the perfect little woman fall apart as huge tears rolled down her cheeks. "Gracie, she, the fever and her breathing..."

Esma was next to Harriet in a flash, but no comfort seemed to help as the choked sobs fell from her lips. Nicu pulled his chair up to her, his knuckle touching the salty liquid, wiping them away from the softness of her cheek. With the tears, her skin felt like silk instead of velvet as it did earlier.

Esma stepped back at his approach and Lord Rathborne touched his wife's shoulders, bringing her away from them to give the poor girl some space and privacy. "It-it was m-my fault... I-I should've..."

Nicu cupped the little face as it fit perfectly into his palms. He watched as the tears continued to leave tracks along her silky cheeks, indicating they would be rosy and chapped in the morning.

"Shh... Monisha." Never in his life did Nicu allow himself to get emotionally invested in his cases or in people, emotions got in the way. His mind was reeling with the need to close himself off and stay logical and unattached, but something deep inside him controlled his body. His voice held a gentleness that he never knew he had. "She was ill, you did you're best. You don't have to finish. I can fit the rest of the pieces together... just one last thing."

He pulled out the letter opener from the inside of his waistcoat. The very one he showed her in the dead of night only days ago. He watched as Harriet's tear-filled eyes widened. "You recognize it? Now that you see it in the light." Nicu asked.

Her puffy eyes stared at him, and she wiped away the remaining tears. "Yes, it is mine."

The whole room quieted and Nicu dropped his head then stood up cursing. "So, I have been wrong. It wasn't you."

"What?" St. George called out, looking aghast. "Now that you have viable proof that it was her, you are saying it wasn't?"

Nicu was the one now quick to her defense. "Because no guilty person would admit to that. She was genuinely surprised when I showed it to her. Plus, it makes it too obvious, and it seems as if someone is trying to frame her... but who?"

Esma stepped in. "What are you thinking, Phal?"

Nicu turned to his twin sister and then to Lord Rathborne who went over and gave Harriet a handkerchief.

He touched Harriet's shoulder and an instinct deep in Nicu's bones made him want to slice off his good friend's hand. "So, who could it be? Are you sure it wasn't any of the other girls?" The unsuspecting man asked, not comprehending the danger he was in from having his hand chopped off by a possessively angered Roma.

Harriet's cheeks were already red, and her head shot up, snapping to Nicu. "You couldn't possibly think one of those innocent girls would have done what you're claiming. Are you still certain it wasn't one of those men who attacked us?"

"Positive," Nicu exclaimed, pulling at his hair until it fell over his eyes.

"But... maybe they took it from my room?" she hypothesized.

Leaning against a bookshelf, St. George gave a more explained answer. "When we were out, Nicu determined that the cuts to the trees were made before the highway men's tracks."

"Highway men?" Harriet questioned. "And how are you able to decipher that?"

The fire crackled as Nicu glared at it, as if they were the very flames that started the whole mess. "It was easy. Your tracks were dry and fading more than the men's. Theirs were fresher than yours by an hour or so and the cuts on the trees matched every step you all took, not the men."

Esma's low voice echoed in the room. "Why would robbers be hired to burn down a finishing school and abduct young girls?"

Nicu waved her off. "That is a question that we can't answer until we know who the traitor is. I have interviewed every..."

His words died in his mouth when realization struck. Esma saw the epiphany immediately. "What is it, Phal?"

Nicu stood and shook his head, but the identity of the traitor made sense and the gears were shifting. He walked to the door and looked back at Harriet. Something clawed at him, some knowledge that she was involved somehow in all this, but now as an innocent and not a conspirator. He turned the knob his gaze still only on Harriet.

"Excuse me." He stepped out, but glanced back at her one last time, proclaiming. "And congratulations. You are the only person to ever beat me in a game."

Harriet gave a small smile in return. "You barely paid attention. I doubt I can beat you when you are serious."

"On the contrary, Monisha. There is never a time or thing I don't pay attention to."

"Detective Rowe! Before you leave." Harriet inquired, licking her lips as her heart fluttered frrom his steady gaze. "Monisha... what does that mean?" Harriet questioned.

Nicu only grinned. "Stay off the ankle, Miss Morgan."

Who's curious about what Nicu is about to investigate? Leave me your favorite emoji if you are 😁