Once Upon A Tiara: Once Upon A Tiara / Henry Ever After. Carrie AlexanderЧитать онлайн книгу.
“I expect one of them will have seen something suspicious enough to warrant a body search. With any luck, we’ll find the stolen goods before the day is out.”
“A body search!” With a swish of her glossy hair and long loose skirt, the woman tossed her head. She set her hands on her hips. “Just you try it,” she said through thinned lips, her voice seething with haughty insult. Although her demeanor was all fiery outrage whereas Lili’s was sweet and fluffy as cotton candy, there was something about the pair of opposites that struck Simon as similar. Perhaps the quick tongue—too much of it in both cases.
“Body search,” the woman snapped at Henry. “I’ll give you a body search, Chief Russell.”
Henry was unperturbed, though Simon noticed how white his knuckles were where they clenched on his captive’s elbow. “Thanks for the offer, Ms. Vargas.” Henry’s mouth made a grim, flat line, betrayed by an infinitesimal twitch at one corner. “I can take care of the search. You only have to provide the body.”
The woman’s cheeks flamed. Henry kept his eyes on her face, but Simon did not. It was obvious that she had a one hell of body, all right, even hidden beneath her fringed shawl, a loose blouse and long, layered skirt, cinched by a bright green sash that showed off her slender waist. She wore sandals and much jewelry, as flashy as the Emperors nightingale, right down to the rings on her toes. Not your average, everyday Pennsylvanian, but Simon wasn’t making any guesses. Maybe the Gypsy look was fashionable, for all he knew.
“Harassment,” the woman hissed.
“Not yet,” Henry said threateningly.
“Are you threatening me?”
Perceptive woman, Simon thought.
A muscle jumped in the sheriff’s jaw. “Depends whether or not your cohort slipped away with the goods.”
She inhaled. “My cohort?”
“The young man you were looking for in the crowd. Possibly working with.”
“I wasn’t. I told you. I’m here alone.”
“We’ll see.”
“What about Stone?” Simon said, interrupting the pair’s mutual glare. “He’s a stranger in town and he tried to get away when you told everyone to stay put. That’s suspicious, isn’t it?”
The woman shot Simon a grateful look.
“So did Reverend Anderson and Tommy Finch, the paperboy,” Henry said. “Don’t worry, Simon. I know how to do my job.”
“Of course,” Simon conceded. He had no good reason to suspect Stone. Or to be resentful. All there was between himself and Lili was a suspended hot dog date.
“If there’s anything you need,” he offered, before stepping away to search for Lili.
“There may be.” The police chief indicated his prisoner. His grip hadn’t loosened a notch. “I’d like a room to stash my suspect in.”
She smiled poisonously. “Why don’t you just handcuff me in the town square and let the townsfolk pelt me with rotten fruit?”
Simon snorted with laughter.
Even Henry had to smile. “I’m saving that for after the trial.”
“How nice to know I won’t be summarily executed without one.”
There it was again. Simon took another look at her. That thing—what was it? Peppery pride, scrappiness, inborn spirit?
“I’ll set you up with a room,” he said to Henry, more than eager to get back to the princess, his own sparring partner.
“Preferably one that’s secure, private and—” Henry scowled at his prisoner “—far away from the jewels.”
Simon went to Lili, which wasn’t easy because she was buttressed by her nanny and bodyguard. “How are you?” His glance skipped over Grundy and Wilhelm. “Everything okay here?”
Lili’s eyes sparkled. “What a to-do! I thought small towns were supposed to be boring.”
“Not this weekend.”
“We must move the princess away from the riffraff,” Mrs. Grundy said. A camera flash made her lips pucker. “Even more importantly, away from the photographers and reporters.”
Simon realized that a small number of media were circling like sharks, grabbing hold of the incident for what would no doubt be sensationalized stories and photos. The museum board had hoped for enough publicity to put their new facility on the map. Looked like they had it in spades.
“We can take her back to my office,” he offered.
“I am here,” Lili protested. “Don’t talk over my head as if I’m a child.”
Simon looked down at her. “Sorry.”
Her smile flickered from polite to genuine. “Apology accepted.”
“Form a wedge,” Wilhelm instructed. “We must move quickly.” Mrs. Grundy opened her satchel and removed a folding umbrella. With a snap, she opened it to full length, leaving the spokes and fabric furled. She dug the sharp tip into the ground, squared her shoulders and threaded an arm through the princess’s.
Simon took the other elbow. “Off we go, then,” he said cheerily. He was quite happy to be leaving the Tower behind, subject to interrogation, sans princess.
“No talking. No stopping.” Wilhelm took the lead position, parting the crowd like the prow of a ship. “No deterrence.”
“Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead,” Simon whispered to Lili as they quickly moved out from beneath the tent and across the tarmac road.
She tittered. “Grunberg doesn’t have a Navy. We’re landlocked.” The reporters closed in on them, but were no match for Lili’s bodyguard. Mrs. Grundy’s bulk effectively blocked the photographers from getting good angles on the princess. When they pressed too close, she jabbed at them with the umbrella. The quartet swept up the steps and into the museum.
Henry and the woman, who was apparently his prime suspect, arrived on their heels. After assuring the security guards that all was under control, Simon made introductions. “Princess Lili, this is Henry Russell, the main man in Blue Cloud’s police department. He’s in charge.”
“Pleased to meet you, Chief Russell.” Lili offered him her hand. “Even if it is under trying circumstances. Was there honestly a pickpocket loose among the guests?”
“It looks like it. We have two missing wallets and one ransacked purse. Possibly a stolen necklace. My officers will be searching the grounds thoroughly.”
Lili’s eyes widened. “Are the royal jewels safe?”
Henry and Simon exchanged a glance before the chief responded in an official tone. “I apologize, Your Highness, but I can’t give a one-hundred percent guarantee. In my estimation, today’s criminals are no more than petty thieves, out to take advantage of the holiday crowds. Only a sophisticated burglar could successfully lift the jewels.” He looked at Simon, who nodded in agreement. Henry relaxed—slightly. “Nothing for you to worry about, Princess.”
The chief’s suspect glowered at him from beneath a sheaf of dark, silky hair. A leaf clung to the disheveled tresses. Henry picked it off.
Tilting her head, Lili regarded the woman with interest. They were as opposite as Simon had assumed—one fair, the other dark; one well-dressed, polite and poised, the other brazen and belligerent in her flashy ornaments and cheap silks. And yet…there was that common bond. The moments of regal hauteur, ameliorated by an obvious zest for life.
Lili held out her hand. “Hello. I’m Princess Lili of Grunberg.”
“Oh, I know who you are.” The captive’s top lip lifted into the slightest of sneers as