As the Land Rover zipped along the hilly road, Grace related her adventures.
“When I left the police station, I looked for you,” Peter said grimly. “When you didn’t show at the library, I tracked you to the milliner’s and then…you vanished. I tried the sweet shop.”
Grace huffed, “Well, I went to the tarot reader.”
“The tarot reader!” For once he seemed floored.
“It was just…for fun.”
He made a polite sound. “I admit I didn’t think of checking there.”
Grace repeated the bit of conversation she had overheard.
“Charlie Ames,” Peter said thoughtfully. “Now why’s that familiar?”
“Wasn’t Ames the name of the old woman who used to own the farmhouse where the Que—I mean, Sid and Charlie took me? Or no, it was the name of the housekeeper, wasn’t it?”
Peter directed an approving look her way. “I think you’re right. That explains how they knew about a handy and isolated place to stow kidnap victims. As I recollect there was something about a Charlie Ames who was sent up for B and E.” For Grace’s benefit he clarified, “Breaking and entering. Nothing necessarily violent.”
Grace felt her still tender skull. “His friends aren’t so particular. And by the way, Lady Vee confirms that Sid and Charlie are working for Sweet.”