Page 50 of Payback

I glanced up into his concerned features, framed by a halo of golden hair. “What else?”

“Campus security called me back.” Rita rubbed at her heart, making me wonder if she had gotten any sleep after seeing that prowler. “They assured me that whoever had been there had left and said I probably shouldn’t look out of the windows at night.”

“Seriously?” asked Henry, his voice flat.

“That doesn’t sound promising at all,” I muttered.

The muscles in Henry’s jaw tightened. “They should have called the fucking police!”

Rita flinched, and I stepped in front of Henry and placed an arm on her shoulder. “Thanks so much for telling me. You might want to sleep in Hawthorn House from now on. If he was outside your window, he was probably looking for me.”

“T-that’s what I thought,” she whispered. “I won’t sleep another night in that room. But you need to be careful, too.”

A sigh slid from my nostrils. “Thanks, Rita. And I’m sorry that this business with him is affecting you.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a tight squeeze. “Take care of yourself, and don’t wander around on your own.”

I trudged back to our table, my aching heart sinking to my stomach. It was obvious that Mr. Carbuncle would strike again, but I never thought he would resort to breaking into Elder House at night. Henry wrapped a comforting arm around my middle, lending me his warmth and protection. My muscles relaxed at his touch, but the thought of Mr. Carbuncle returning to finish what he had started rolled around my head like a millstone and ground the last of my peace of mind to dust.

Blake and Edward sat opposite each other, observing me with concerned faces. Blake tilted his head to the side, while Edward’s posture remained rigid.

“What did she say?” Blake’s gaze flickered from my eyes to Rita’s table.

I took my seat and stared at my empty plate. “It’s Mr. Carbuncle.”

Henry sat opposite. “You don’t know that for sure.”

While Henry poured us both a cup of tea, I repeated Rita’s account of last night’s events. Blake and Edward’s faces hardened as I spoke. Neither of them shared Henry’s optimism. A regular burglar would break into the empty International House or one of the other houses at the edge of the campus. It had to be Mr. Carbuncle.

When I finished, Blake shook his head. “He’s becoming more of an immediate danger than Rudolph.”

My shoulders sagged. “We need to do something about him.”

“He hasn’t yet replied to my text from the confiscated phone,” said Blake. “When he does, I’ll arrange a trap.”

Nodding, I brought my cup of tea to my lips. Hopefully, Charlotte hadn’t found a way to tell him we were now in control of her phone.

Edward picked up a slice of toast from the rack. “I’ve just introduced myself to Mrs. Carbuncle, saying that I am a concerned student who would like to meet her to see what I can do to help her son. She told me she’d be delighted to join us for afternoon tea at the village teashop.”

* * *

We arrived at Muriel’s Tea Rooms at four o’clock, which was apparently the time everyone decided to visit. A young server led us to tables Edward had reserved. The plan was to have Blake and me at a nearby table observing, while Edward and Henry poured on the charm. I ordered a slice of chocolate fudge cake, Blake ordered the strawberry shortcake, and we waited for Mrs. Carbuncle to show her face.

At quarter-past four, an elderly woman arrived at Muriel’s Tea Rooms, wearing a worn, tweed suit with a brown blouse, and an oversized chiffon scarf with a houndstooth pattern. Her thinning, silvery hair was pulled back from her face into a severe bun, but it only highlighted her soft features.

“That can’t be Mrs. Carbuncle.” I leaned into Blake and whispered, “She doesn’t look like him at all.”

“It has to be her,” he whispered back. “All the other old ladies arrive in pairs or gangs.”

I glanced around the tea room at the groups of elderly women sitting around the tables enjoying afternoon tea served in tiered cake stands. He was right. My gaze traveled back to the old lady, who glanced around the room until she spotted Edward and Henry, sitting at the table for four next to ours.

She strode across the room at a brisk pace, considering her walking stick. Edward and Henry stood at the same time. While Henry pulled out the old woman’s chair, Edward gave her a dazzling smile. “Mrs. Carbuncle, I presume?”

The old woman offered her hand. “How wonderful to meet you, Viscount Highdown.”

Edward pressed his lips on her knuckles. “Please, call me Edward.”

With cheeks flaring brighter than the strawberries on the shortcake, Mrs. Carbuncle took her seat and gave Henry an admiring gaze. “And who is this handsome fellow?”