Fifty Shades Of Darkness III...

“Her name is Emma Hale.” She continued collectedly. “She fell out of a tree as a child. She has a scar on her left elbow.” Harker realised that the stranger had seen the brutality inflicted on the girl and provided him with another means of identification. He was impressed by her level-headedness and yet he could still feel her body trembling. Self-consciously he removed his hands from her shoulders and then turned, crouching at the side of the deceased girl.

Carefully he examined the limb in question, with first thumb and then eye. He was surprised by the flicker of feeling when he found the scar confirming the girl’s identity. He bowed his head before speaking, his words stark in the morning brightness.

“It is her, your sister.”

“I’m deeply sorry for your loss Mistress Hale.” The sheriff interjected with an appropriate murmur of sympathy.

“Lacy. Kathryn Lacy.” Her reply was thoughtless, too occupied by blinking back the tears which threatened to spill down her cheeks than to pay heed to the words which had already spilt from her lips. The sheriff’s reaction was instantaneous, choler staining his cheeks red beneath the fine growth of a beard.

“You’re Mistress Lacy?” Now she realised what had been said there was pride in her bearing as she enunciated carefully,

“Yes.” The name meant little to Harker, who looked on in confusion at the two sudden adversaries.

“It’s very brazen of you. Turning up like this. Or do you intend to confess?”

“I wouldn’t wish to make it that easy for you sheriff. I confess only that I did not stop to think that you might be here. I heard rumours about the discovery of a body and, fearing the worst, I came immediately.”

“And Emma Hale was one of the girls you helped.” Undisguised disapproval coloured the emphasis upon his final word. Kathryn shifted slightly so that she now addressed the bemused surgeon.

“I take orphans and strays into my home. Anyone and everyone is welcome, no matter their past. I try to help them start again. To make a living.”

“You train children to become thieves and whores.” Anger flared briefly at the sheriff’s remark.

“No. You and the rest of society teach them that well enough. You make the choice for them early on. I simply show them how to survive the system and help them to make the arrangement a beneficial one.” Grief passed like a shadow, replacing the anger, as she continued. “Emma has...had...been with me for a few years. She’s been missing over a week. I’ve been out searching for her, but I suppose I knew there was only one reason why she wouldn’t come back.”

Harker had been watching her closely throughout the exchange. She was younger than he had first supposed and there was a surprising delicacy to her features that belied the coarseness of her livelihood. Her face was mobile and expressive, a face of which any stage-player would be proud. The lines could be redrawn, features redesigned, as she assumed each new character. There was a moment of stillness between these changes in which Harker felt certain he could read weariness in her pale eyes.

“And you expected what exactly? For me to let you leave after you provided this information?” Again her expression shifted, this time to amused arrogance.

“Until just now you didn’t even know what I looked like. My ‘crimes’ are merely rumour and suspicion. And if you thought that was evidence, your friend here,” she flicked a finger towards Harker, “would be locked up himself.” The sheriff looked as if he was grinding his teeth painfully, and the surgeon was astonished that the woman knew so much about him when he had never heard her name spoken before today.

“We should be leaving Harker.” The sheriff said abruptly, stiffly formal in Kathryn’s presence. “We have to record your examination and decide on a course of action.” He was already leaving, ducking between the lopsided houses. As the surgeon moved to follow, Kathryn reached out, slapping a hand against his chest. It left a cold, hard impression against his heart.

“Please.” She beseeched him, her features rearranging into feminine helplessness. Annoyance made him push against the constriction but she tried again. “Please.” Her tone was harder, more sincere. “All I ask is that you do not let your knowledge of me affect the way in which you investigate Emma’s death. She was the kindest soul and hardly fit for the role she played. She deserved better in life and I don’t want to think that she deserved better in death also.” The sheriff overheard and turned back, his face a mask of frozen politeness.

“You can rest assured Mistress Lacy that we will do everything possible to capture this criminal.” She didn’t flinch from the insult. Instead she drew herself up and Harker could almost admire the determined tilt of her chin.

“And you can rest assured gentleman that I will do everything possible to see that this man pays for what he has done.” Harker felt a shiver of danger at the words which fuelled so many of his own memories. He seized Kathryn by the wrist, forcing her to look up at him in a submissive pose. Pain whipped through his voice, causing it to become a sharply barbed threat.

“There is a line. A line between revenge and justice. You would do well to mark it Mistress Lacy and see that you do not cross it. Or one day you will have cause for regret.”