A Dangerous Liaison With Detective Lewis by Jillian Stone Read Free Book Online Page B

ground. Glass beakers and measuring devices slid off tables and crashed on the floor. Lazar lay crumpled in a heap not far away.
    Fanny screamed. Her legs and feet scrambled against floorboards, pushing her away from the horrible sight in the tank.
    The head and shoulders of a frozen body bobbed up and down at the top of the massive cylinder. Diaphanous clouds of vapor billowed out of the apparatus, which continued to hiss and wheeze. The dead man’s eyes bulged from their sockets, with irises that glowed silver-white. The head sprouted red hair frosted pink from ice, and a sardonic grin was frozen in place. There could be no doubt about the identity of the ghoulish corpse.
    “Professor Poole.” Fanny struggled for breath. The deeper she inhaled, the less oxygen there was. She felt her cheeks. Cold as ice on a warm day. “We must get—outside—”
    Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her to her feet. Rafe guided her out of the lab and down the corridor. “Hold on to the banister—you’re light-headed. Make your way outside into the fresh air. I’m going back for Lazar.”
    Fanny caught his arm. “Be careful, Rafe.”
    Rafe squeezed her hand. “I’ll be down in a flash.”
    On the way outside, she ran into several students who had heard the explosion. She pointed to the lab above.Still gasping, she stepped onto the terrace and sucked in fresh air.
    As she regained her strength, images of death deluged her thoughts. Some kind of monster, or group of fiends, had conspired against her father and now Professor Poole. A man couldn’t fall into a vat of gas right-side up—he must have been forced down into the subfreezing liquid gas.
    Death and more death. A shiver ran down her spine as she circled the yard adjacent to the science hall. There were one or two business competitors, she supposed, who might have wished Ambrose Greyville-Nugent gone. Fanny chewed a bit of lower lip. Father had also enjoyed a string of women over the years. Many a paramour had set her sights on landing Ambrose Greyville-Nugent. Indeed, her father reigned supreme as the most sought-after widower in all of Edinburgh and had remained so for years. When he jilted those aspiring women, which he invariably did, one or two had become rather difficult. But murder?
    Passing the hall entrance, she caught a glimpse of Rafe. He stood beside a recovering Professor Lazar in the foyer. They exchanged a wave and Fanny continued her turn about the grounds. Neatly trimmed hedges formed a Celtic knot in the center of the square. The intricate pathway took her past flower beds and a patch of lawn.
    “Miss Francine?”
    Fanny turned in the direction of the voice and squinted. She had not noticed that it was dusk, verging on twilight. A young man stood beside the gated entryto the quad. She recognized their new driver—hired last week. At the same time, she heard a door swing open and the murmur of students inside the building. Rafe was out on the terrace and starting down the steps. “Not to worry, Rafe. You recognize Martin—our driver?”
    Rafe hesitated, evaluating the young man beside her before turning back. “Very well, Fanny. At all times, you must stay where I can clearly see you. Disappear behind a tree, for even a moment, and I will not hesitate to intrude upon your constitutional.” With his eyes locked on her, he walked backward for a bit, then returned to the hall.
    She turned to the driver. “What is it, Martin?”
    “Lame horse, ma’am. With your permission, I’d like to take the team home and come back with the brougham.” The driver opened the gate and she passed into a narrow yard—more of an alleyway.
    “Fetch us as soon as you can—” A terrible clunk and a groan came from behind, and she turned in time to see Martin collapse to the ground. Inching forward, she bent over the young man. What on earth? Something—a presence—loomed up from behind. A rough hand went around her face and clamped over her mouth. Another