Shady Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

her friends and neighbors have to say?
    Jo wasn’t terribly alarmed. Chloë was not only unpredictable, she was also thoughtless, not in a mean sense, but unthinking of the consequences of her actions. Impulsive, shocking, amusing, and fun to be with—that was Chloë.
    She read Lady Langston’s letter again and decided that she might have been worried if she hadn’t known that a letter had arrived from Chloë that very morning. It was still in the
Journal
offices, unopened. What hadn’t arrived today, and she’d been expecting it, was Chloë’s copy for the next two editions of the paper. Chloë could never be pinned down to writing every week. Occasionally, nothing arrived, and Jo was left scrambling to fill the back page. She wondered if the letter that had arrived this morning was an apology from Chloë for the delay. She’d meant to take it home but had forgotten. She’d have to go back to her office and get it so that she could write by return to Lady Langston and tell her that everything was fine.
    But she’d do it after dinner. By that time, surely there would be a letup in the rain.
             
    The light was fading and it was still raining when they set off, Mrs. Daventry going to the rectory with the parcel for Eric, and Jo to her office in Waterside to get Chloë’s letter. The
Journal
’s offices were not far from the church, and the plan was that after they had done their errands, they would meet halfway and go home together.
    All was quiet as Jo let herself in. She let down her umbrella and felt her way to the table in the corridor with the lamp on it. The tinderbox was kept in the drawer. She was groping for it when she heard something—a door opening, a step on the landing, something.
    “Mac?” she called out. “It’s me, Jo.”
    There was no response.
    She must have been mistaken.
    It took her only a moment to light the lamp and a few steps took her to her office. She set the lamp on her desk and went to the clothes closet where she kept her smock. The letter was still in the pocket.
    She sat down at her desk, broke the wafer, and opened Chloë’s letter. She noticed the stamp at the top of the page, a leopard’s head, then she began to read.

    My diary will explain everything.
    Be careful, Jo. If I’m right, we could both be in mortal danger.

    And that’s where the letter ended.
    Shocked, Jo sat back in her chair, then read the message again. Was Chloë interrupted? If so, who had sent this? And what did she mean—
we could both be in mortal danger
?
    She knew all about Chloë’s diary. It was a notebook that went everywhere with her. After every party, she would make notes to jog her memory when it came time to write her piece for the
Journal
. If the diary wasn’t with Chloë, Jo didn’t know where it could be.
    She turned the note over and looked at the postmark. It had been posted in Oxfordshire, but that didn’t tell her much. Some postmarks had dates. This one didn’t. And all the country mail went through London. It wouldn’t have taken more than two days to reach Stratford. Yet Lady Langston’s letter implied Chloë had been missing for some time.
    She looked again at the leopard’s head at the top of the page. It could be a family crest. Or the sign of an inn.
    She glanced up when the flame in the lamp fluttered. A cold draft streamed through the door.
    “Mac?” she called out.
    She was beginning to feel nervous, and no wonder after reading Chloë’s note. The next instant, she froze. She heard the soft tread of steps going along the corridor, then the click of a latch.
    She sat there for a long time, ears straining, heart racing. There was nothing. She got up and looked around for something to use as a weapon. There was a poker in front of the grate. It would do.
    With the lamp in one hand and the poker in the other, she went cautiously from room to room. In the storeroom at the back of the building, she found a window half open. It hadn’t been forced.