More Than a Mission - Caridad Pineiro [23]
Aidan met her gaze squarely and shook his head. “She had an HK Mark 23.”
“Mitch’s gun.” She reached out, laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Aidan.”
“I’m not. Whoever was in that cellar did it. Chances are that it was the Sparrow. I plan on proving that she killed the prince, as well. When you call Walker, make sure and find out if he has any new info.”
“Will do,” she acknowledged and turned her attention back to the monitor, not that there was much going on. Just Elizabeth still in her bed. Peacefully at rest.
Aidan wondered how she could sleep so soundly. Didn’t all her kills haunt her the way Mitch’s murder haunted him?
But then again, sociopaths didn’t have the same kinds of reactions that normal people did, he thought. Walker would be the first to tell him that. Yet her behavior earlier that night and her kiss…
She had been just a normal woman, enjoying a night out with friends. Friends who might be able to give him more information on the real Elizabeth. Although he had to be at the restaurant by ten, that still left him an hour or so in the morning to visit both Kate and Samantha’s stores and talk to the women.
Maybe they would give him some insight on what made the Sparrow tick, because, so far, she had him totally confused.
Chapter 8
Elizabeth was awake long before the alarm went off, chirping stridently to remind her she couldn’t linger in bed.
Saturdays and Sundays were always the busiest days of the week thanks to the brunch the restaurant served, but they were also the most profitable. Well worth the extra effort.
She was in the kitchen with time to spare before Natalie and her other assistants appeared. She fixed herself a large mug of coffee, and took a moment for a stroll through the back garden, pausing to pick a dead flower here and there.
In about four hours, her patrons would begin to arrive, but for now, she grabbed a seat on the low edge of the stone wall between her cottage and the beach. As she sipped her coffee, she gazed out at the ocean and observed the fisherman put out to sea.
She had often sat in the early-morning hours in her parents’ fish shop near the docks and seen a similar sight. Her mother would sometimes make her a special breakfast of eggs and kippers, while her twin sister Dani—ever the more adventurous one—would tag along with their Da to greet those fisherman who were already inbound with their catch.
She hadn’t been able to reach Dani in days and wondered what exotic part of the world her sister was visiting. She only hoped that Dani’s busy schedule would soon allow time for a call home for news of when they might be able to get together again.
With her coffee becoming lukewarm and the growing heat from the rising sun reminding her that time was short this morning, Elizabeth headed to the kitchen. She was still the only one there. She used the time to experiment with a new dessert recipe she wanted to enter in the annual Silvershire Cooking Contest at the end of the month—a trifle doused with a sour cherry liqueur that a local distillery was making.
Concentrating, she selected a recipe for the cake portion of the trifle that would be firm enough, but not too heavy. She hoped that when the competition came in a few weeks, she would be able to place in the contest once more.
Not that she needed the glory. But the awards had brought her work to the attention of editors at magazines like Gourmet and Bon Appetit, resulting in invitations to other cooking expos and contests. They had given her a chance to see more of the world.
She smiled and thought that maybe she wasn’t all that different from her wandering sister. Easing two pans with the cake batter into the oven, Elizabeth was turning her attention to the filling and sauce for the trifle when Natalie popped into the kitchen.
“G’mornin’, Nat,” she called out and wiped her hands free of some cake batter with the towel tucked into her apron strings.
Natalie walked over and slipped an arm over her shoulders. “Is it a good morning, Lizzy Bee?” she teased with