Baxter’s expression darkened. “That’s what concerns me the most.”

She smiled. “I shall be quite all right. All the constable needs is for me to ask a few questions in the village. Samuel will be with me, as always, and despite your displeasure at his willingness to help me, you will be the first to admit he is more than capable of taking care of me should the need arise.”

She saw his scowl deepen and added hurriedly, “Not that it would, of course. I will make sure of that.”

Baxter brushed a weary hand across his brow. “My dear Cecily, you will be the death of me yet. I refused a marvelous opportunity to work abroad so that you could continue your duties here at the Pennyfoot. In exchange, you promised to give me peace of mind by avoiding all contact with police business. Now here you are, proposing to actually assist the constabulary in a murder investigation. Is it any wonder my hair turns whiter by the day?”

Cecily gave him another sheepish smile. “It is very becoming, dear.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“No, dear.” She held out her hands to him again. “What would you have me do? Sit here and do nothing while our guests cancel their bookings one by one?”

“That hasn’t happened yet. We have lost only one booking.”

“There could well be more.”

Baxter raised his chin and stared at the ornate ceiling. “Once more I have been ambushed and overtaken. Very well. If you must. Have Samuel meet me in the library. I want a word with that young man.”

“Thank you, darling.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug. “I promise I shall use the utmost caution.”

He rolled his eyes. “Where have I heard that before?”

She didn’t answer him, being that she was already halfway out the door, on her way to call Sam Northcott to offer her services.