The cool night wind bit Madison's cheeks and nose. She shivered and bundled her black cloak around her shoulders as she watched through the thicket of trees toward Mr. Bailey's home. Perhaps tonight wasn't the best time to spy on the place, but if she didn't solve this case, she'd never forgive herself. She'd promised Alice, and Madison never went back on her word.

The people that had been at Mr. Bailey's house the other day must have left, because there was only a lone horse in the stable and one small carriage. Only two windows had lights—one downstairs, and one upstairs. Her instincts told her Rosie was in this house, and most certainly, in one of those rooms.

Cameron's lack of belief still left a bitter sting in her heart, especially because of all she'd helped him with. After she'd sulked and cried for most of yesterday, Madison finally decided she was going to prove to Cameron—and the Metropolitan Police—that she could solve cases. She would find Rosie, and God willing, she would find the person who killed Mr. Bailey, as an extra bonus.

Madison didn't need Cameron to tell her that he was embarrassed of her gift. Most people were. And yet, there for a while, he'd acted as though it hadn't bothered him. He'd made her imagine—for a brief moment in time—that he was different from the other men she'd met throughout her life. Sadly, he wasn't different at all. He was just more charming.

She grumbled in irritation and tightened her fingers around the edges of her cloak as she shifted her stance. Madison would show that good for nothing Inspector Westland that she knew exactly what she saw in her visions. She'd make him eat his words. And she'd prove to those other police inspectors that she was not crazy.

Her plan was to sneak inside the house and find Rosie. Of course, she had to be extremely quiet to pull this off. And, she needed to figure out a way inside. Perhaps the back door was the best way to get in.

Another gust of wind blew through the trees, stinging her face. She gritted her teeth against the cool air and shuffled her feet again. What was wrong with these people? Couldn't they retire for the night?

She brought her gloved hands to her mouth and blew some warm air onto them. If these night owls didn't go to bed soon, she might have to wait inside the stable next to the horse for heat. She glanced toward the barn. In fact, she should do that now before her toes became numb. These boots were not made to keep a lady's feet warm.

Madison peered to the left, and then the right, before she dared leave her hiding spot. Nobody had disturbed the area since she'd arrived. Taking careful steps, she made her way toward the stable. As she neared, a loud thump came from the house. Her heartbeat hammered wildly as she swung her gaze around. A man exited the house as he pulled the door closed behind him. The high collar of his overcoat and his hat coupled with the darkness of the night, hiding his identity.

Sucking in a fast breath, she panicked. If she ran back toward the thicket of trees, he would definitely notice. If she hurried toward the stable, chances were that he was heading in that direction, anyway. Since the stable was closer, she made the decision to go that route. Once inside, she would look for someplace to hide.

Madison held her breath and darted toward the stable, but only reached the side wall. The man's boots crunched on the gravel as he neared the structure. Flattening herself against the outer wall, she closed her eyes, praying he wouldn't detect her presence.

Inaudible mutters came from him, but the only words she could understand were idiot, and foolish man. She thought he'd even said something about him taking care of things himself...but she wasn't certain.

He opened the wide door to the stable and entered. She peeked on the other side of her to see if there were any windows, but unfortunately, there weren't. The only way to know who this man was would be to follow him inside and get closer. That, she wouldn't do.

Time crept by, but soon the clomping of horse's hooves pounded the dirt as he walked the animal outside the stable. Once more, she peeked around the corner, but because his back was to her, she couldn't see his face. He kicked his heels into the horse's sides and took off, riding away from the house.

Relief swept over her. With any luck, the only two people that should be in that house would be the old servant...and Rosie.

She watched the rider until he rode out of sight before hurrying toward the back of the house. Her heart hammered wildly, and she was out of breath, but she tested the doorknob. Unlocked! She blew out a relieved breath and slowly pushed the door opened. A piercing squeak followed. Quickly she stopped the door, and the disturbing noise.

She grumbled softly. She'd have to try opening the door another way.

Out of nowhere, a memory popped into her head. She could have been six or seven, and she was trying to figure out how to sneak out of a bedroom with a squeaky door. All she could recall was that she desperately needed to be quiet as not to wake her aunt and uncle. As she opened the door, she didn't use the knob, but instead, lifted the bottom edge to slowly open it.

Madison shrugged. Although she couldn't remember exactly why she'd been sneaking out of room when she was young, she'd try it now to see if it worked. Bending, she placed her hands on the edge of the door. Slowly, she lifted and pushed it farther open. Thankfully, the squeak was almost non-existent.

Sighing, she entered the house, and then slid the door closed the same way she'd opened it. Before moving, she listened to the sounds of the house. From the corridor, the large grandfather clock ticked away the seconds. She could swear her heartbeat knocked in a faster rhythm.

She remained still until her eyes adjusted to her surroundings. The fading scent of garlic and lemon, followed by an odor of fish, wafted around her. She realized she stood inside the kitchen before she could see the stoves, and the cutting tables. Dishes were neatly stacked on shelves.

Madison took careful steps until she exited the kitchen. She recognized the hall where she and Cameron had been shown into the sitting room to visit with Mr. Bailey's relatives. One lamp was still lit somewhere on this floor, but since she saw a man leave, she reasoned that he had left it on for his return.

The stairs were easy to find, and she stepped lightly on the first step...then the second. A loud creak rattled through the old wood and she cringed. When she placed her weight on the third step, it groaned louder. Immediately, quick footsteps sounded on the floor above her. Someone heard me!

Taking a quick glance around, she searched for someplace to hide. Wherever she went, she'd have to hurry. The pounding of footsteps on the floor grew closer. Up above, a shadow passed by the moon's light streaming in from a window, highlighted against the wall. It was the silhouette of a person...and they were holding a pistol.

Her limbs froze in fear, but panic rushed through her, guiding her feet back down the stairs and into the nearest room. Thankfully, the door didn't squeak when she opened or closed it. The room was dark, more than the kitchen had been. She couldn't wait for her eyes to adjust, so she held out her hands and moved slowly.

Her foot knocked against something hard, stinging her toes. She held in the groan of pain that wanted to release from her throat. As she slid her hands briefly over the object, she concluded that it was a heavily cushioned chair.

From out in the hall, footsteps clamored down the stairs. Perhaps she'd been too hasty to enter this house after the man had left. But who else could be here? Wouldn't the servant be asleep yet? And if he had been, why did he hear her? The other day when she and Cameron were here, the old man had a hearing problem.

Slowly, the objects in the room became clearer. This was the study. A few feet away sat a desk in the middle of the room, and other chairs—both cushioned—littered around the area. She detected a window against the far wall, and it looked as if drapes were pulled closed, but a small amount of the moon's light shown in right above and directly below the thick covering that hung nearly to the floor.

She darted for the drapes. That would be the most logical place to hide.

Madison quickened her steps...and whacked her foot along the corner of the desk. Biting her bottom lip, she tried not to cry out as the pain increased. She limped the rest of the way and scooted behind the drapes. Cool air coming from the window touched her skin. Good grief! Why had someone left the window open? But now was not the time to close it. She must stay as quiet as a butterfly.

Seconds ticked by as the footsteps out in the hall grew louder, stopping in front of the door. She held her breath. The doorknob jiggled. Heavy footsteps thudded inside the room, followed by the click of the closing door.

Why had they closed it? Obviously, by the way the floor creaked, someone was in the room with her, coming closer to the window. Her heartbeat pounded against her chest so hard and fast, she feared the person in the room would hear that, too.

Suddenly, the person stopped right in front of her. In fact, she could hear their heavy breaths, too. Madison said a quick prayer that this person wouldn't know she was here, but she felt this was one prayer that would go unanswered.

Briefly, the drapes moved. Had it come from the opened window or from the unknown intruder? She continued to hold her breath. She couldn't make a sound, especially not when the person was this close to her.

They would discover her at any moment.