Chapter 26
Isobel hung up and scowled at the phone. There was no way she was going to beg James now. She would have to find another way. She paced her well-trodden route around the oval rag rug in the center of the living room and thought about Angelina Rivington.
Her death couldn't possibly be coincidental, although Isobel privately admitted that her suggestion that Rivington could somehow still have killed Harrison was a stretch. No, Percival was right, as he so often was. It was far more likely that the same person killed them both.
She paused in the middle of the room, startled by a creak in the floor. The cozy little studio suddenly felt sinister, as if an assassin might pop out from their overstuffed hall closet. Isobel scooped up her keys, wallet and phone, and headed outside. It was a gorgeous day. A walk in the park was just the thing to clear her head.