Yesterday's Promise Read Free Page A

imagination, but she set aside any notion of returning to the rectory in weatherlike this. By the time she arrived, she would be soaked once again, and there’d be plenty of explaining to do, especially to Mrs. Croft, who treated her as if she were her own granddaughter.
    Evy squared her shoulders. There was only one way to handle her edginess. If the Hooper twins and Wally could play Scotland Yard, well, so could she.
    She walked to the kitchen, where the tea was ready to pour, but instead of enjoying a cupful as she had intended, she went to the pantry. A small table held the oil lamp. There were no windows, only a small vent for the warm months. She struck a match and lit the wick. A flight of steep steps beside the wall led to the attic. Holding the flickering lamp, she forced her spirit to bravery, lifted her chin, and climbed.
    The wavering lamplight revealed yellow daisies on the fading wallpaper, which appeared comfortably familiar in a moment like this.
    Rain continued to lash the cottage walls. She could imagine a giant standing outdoors with booted legs apart, whip in hand, trying to bring the house down.
    It was really quite silly to allow her nerves to imagine footsteps from just a few creaks in the attic floor! After all, who would wish to look up there? There was absolutely nothing of value—just some personal belongings from Uncle Edmund and Aunt Grace—certainly not the Kimberly Black Diamond!
    The wind plowed against the cottage, threatening to penetrate the weathered planks. The steps creaked beneath her feet, yet she was certain no one could hear her approaching over the noise of the storm.
    She reached the final step and lifted the lamp. Standing near the door, she paused to rouse her courage again before stepping up to the small landing. The door whipped open, and she gasped.
    A figure, apparently draped in a dark sheet, rushed at her with hands extended. A violent force shoved her and caused her to lose her balance. As she started to fall backward, she reached in vain for a rail that wasn’t there. The lamp crashed down the steep steps, and her head struck something hard.

    A deep growl of thunder shook the cottage. Lightning dazzled the dark sky. Evy Varley lay in a crumpled heap on the pantry floor, the paleness of death upon her cold, still face.
    Henry Chantry’s murderer lifted the dark shawl and stepped down the stairs to kick away pieces of the shattered lamp and beat out the flames before they could draw attention to the cottage. With the fire now extinguished and everyone else away at the dinner, there was time enough to search.
    The murderer returned to the attic, threw open the drawers of an old parson’s desk, and tossed its contents aside impatiently. A stack of envelopes were illuminated by the glow of a candle. One envelope in particular had its edges yellowed with time. It was written in Henry Chantry’s hand, addressed to:
    Vicar Edmund Havering
St. Graves Parish
    It had been sent from:
    Henry Chantry
Rookswood Estate
    Then Henry had not been bluffing that night in the office chamber on the third floor of Rookswood. Henry said he had suspected me of taking the Black Diamond from him in the stables
.
    But had he told me the truth about Vicar Edmund Havering?
    Kill me and you won’t get away with it. Do you think I’m a fool? I’ve left a record with the vicar of what really happened that night. Your name is in that letter
.
    The murderer’s mouth twisted grimly.
    Yes, and that is why Vicar Havering had to die. Because he finally grew wise enough to look on me with suspicion. He was asking too many questions at Rookswood. But I got away with it, Henry old boy, just the way I got away with silencing you forever. To this good day they still think the old vicar’s death in the buggy on that stormy night was an accident. No one had enough sense to notice the wheel spokes had been altered. After that, all it took was a rifle shot from Grimston