For Booker, waiting meant scouring the streets every morning and night in search of a mutilated corpse. He woke Trinket before the sun rose and dragged her out well past midnight. She had to wonder at his ability to function with so little sleep, considering he spent most of his hours at home tinkering in the laboratory.

Several days passed since the first corpse appeared, and Trinket found herself hoping that another would be discovered so that Booker would stop waking her up at such ungodly hours. However, she knew that as soon as one turned up, her late-night excursions would not cease. Things would only become more complicated. And more dangerous.

As she stumbled through the city center in a sleep-deprived state, Jewkes' accusations played over in her head. She didn't want to believe that Booker was a murderer. Though she had only spent a short time in his household, she had grown rather fond of him as both an employer and something like a friend. It was true that during her first few weeks with him she had wondered whether he was capable of such atrocities against mankind, but as she'd gotten to know him, she was convinced there was goodness in him that he was trying to keep hidden. Why, she had no idea. There was no guessing why people hid the things they did. He may be just as curious as to why she refused to give him her actual name.

Kaaaaaatheriiiiiiine.

A shudder ran through her as the voices mocked her. She pushed them aside and focused on her errands. With all of their late nights, she and Booker were quickly running out of tea, so that was at the top of her shopping list.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a man banging on the door of the flower shop. She slowed her pace and watched as he peered into the windows of the empty shop and swore under his breath. Mr. Wotton, the man who had been renting the building, was nowhere to be seen. Had he slipped away in the middle of the night?

"Not too clever if he thinks he can just disappear."

Trinket jumped at the oily, charming voice beside her. It belonged to a well-groomed, well-dressed man leaning on a fancy walking stick. He turned his eyes to her and gave a smile that was something between a sneer and a grin, but not quite a smirk.

Scales.

He adjusted his stance and returned his attention to the shop. "He believes he can protect his girls by sending them away to family. But he's underestimated us. We know all and we see all."

The man banging on the shop door finally gave up and stormed off, muttering a string of curses. Scales gave a deep chuckle and turned to Trinket. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and her muscles tensed, ready to flee at the first sign of danger. There was no telling what the vicious right-hand man of the Dead Mice gang was capable of.

"Two-forty-three Belmont Street, Ravenwallow," Scales said. "A quaint one-story building, shared by two families. They have a little dog the girls like to play with in the garden out back, although there's not much of a garden right now with all the snow. However, their kindly grandfather has shoveled a path so that they can frolic to their hearts' desire."

Trinket bristled. How had this man gotten such detailed information so quickly?

With that sneering grin, he leaned in close and whispered, "I know all and I see all, thus, I win all. Best remind your employer of that fact."

Raising his eyebrows, he tipped his hat at her and tossed his walking stick into the air, catching it expertly and sauntering away.

She released a long breath, finally able to breathe again. Swallowing hard, she turned back to the empty flower shop and recalled the bloodcurdling sounds she had heard that night she and Booker were hiding in the same abandoned building in which Scales was torturing Mr. Wotton. A missing finger seemed tame now that she knew Scales better. What horrors did he have in store for Mr. Wotton's poor children? He had already killed their mother. He would not hesitate to harm them.

The streets suddenly felt cold and unsafe. Trinket hurried down the street to the tea shop, keeping her head down and her eyes focused on the road.

The chimes on the door sounded as she opened and closed it. She took a deep breath and allowed the soothing scents of the various tea leaves to calm her nerves. The tea shop was cozy and rustic. Shelves lined the walls, holding dozens of glass containers, each labeled with what was inside. Emma, the shopkeeper, exuded light and happiness and was one of the friendliest people in Tinkerfall. She seemed out of place in the grit and sleaze the city was known for.

"Miss Trinket, how are you today?" she asked from behind the counter.

There were piles of dried leaves and flowers on the countertop in front of her. She was measuring them out carefully and adding them to a strainer set over a teacup. After mixing the ingredients together, she picked up the kettle cooling on a rag and poured it over the concoction. The water that drained through the strainer was a deep crimson and smelled like fruit.

"I'm just testing out some new recipes," Emma said as she gave Trinket a bright smile. "How have you been?"

Trinket forced a smile and nodded. "Well, thank you."

Despite how sweet Emma was, Trinket was reluctant to get too close to her. She had come to Tinkerfall to escape from her old life, so she was intent on keeping the residents of the city from getting to know her too well for fear someone would discover her history in Elysium. Or worse, her life before she was committed.

Killer, killer, killer, killer—

The chimes on the door went off again, thankfully disrupting the voices in her head. Trinket let out a breath of relief as Emma turned her attention to her new customers, and she slipped away unnoticed to peruse the teas. As she inspected a jar of black tea mixed with pomegranate, she happened to overhear two women discussing the mutilated corpse.

"Can you imagine? Bird talons for fingers?"

"How did she cook or clean?"

"Maybe she didn't live long enough to try."

"Who would be so sick as to do that to someone?"

"The Mice?"

The other woman shuddered. "The Mice are vicious, but I don't think they have the know-how to perform such a gruesome surgery."

"Well, there is a surgeon hereabout that has the capabilities."

Their eyes wandered to Trinket, and she quickly ducked her head and turned away, their attention making her uncomfortable.

"Whoever did it is as much a monster as their creations."

"First that wolf, now corpses. Tinkerfall seems to be attracting all sorts of unpleasant creatures."

"Makes one almost think about finding employment elsewhere."

"But then what would we do for entertainment?"

"That's why I said almost."

The women continued onto a different subject as they shopped for tea. Trinket wrapped her hands around the container of black tea and brought it to the counter. Emma's face was paler than usual, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. As she scooped out the tea for Trinket, her gaze kept flicking to the gossiping women wandering about her shop.

"Is all well?" Trinket asked.

Emma's eyes darted to her, and before she spoke, she glanced at the women one more time. Taking in a trembling breath, she leaned in close.

"It's about that corpse they found," she said, her brown eyes wide with panic. "I sort of have a connection to it."

This caught Trinket's attention, and she bent her head in closer. "Have you gone to the police about it?"

She shook her head. "I can't. There are things . . ." She trailed off, looking at the women again before dropping her voice lower. "There are certain activities I'm involved in that the police would not look kindly on. I'm afraid that if I tell them what I know, they'll start digging into my personal life and find me out."

It was surprising to learn that the sweet, innocent Emma was involved with something shady, but Trinket set that aside in order to learn more about the corpse. "What's your connection?"

Emma hesitated. She looked about the room in a slight panic. Trinket glanced at the gossiping women who had ceased their conversation to listen in on theirs. Straightening up, she handed Emma payment for the tea.

"Perhaps another time," she said.

Emma nodded, her eyes still filled with fear. "Yes. Perhaps we can have tea. Have a good day, Miss Trinket."

Trinket left the two gossiping women and Emma behind and stepped out into the chilly air. Taking a deep breath, she tried to concentrate on her shopping list, but to no avail. What had Emma been about to tell her? What connection could she possibly have to the corpse? Did it have something to do with her shady activities? Could she be in cahoots with Booker's mysterious friend?

Blast it all. She needed to not get pulled into these things. Focus. Shopping. That's what she was out here for.

As she continued down the street, though, she happened to pass the alley where the body had been found.

No, she shouldn't. She had errands to run. There was no time to investigate, especially not without Booker.

Her steps slowed as Emma's cryptic words played over in her head, joined by Booker's constant jabber about the corpse.

She glanced over her shoulder and back at the alley. It couldn't hurt to take a quick look. Right?

As she stepped over the refuse and clutter that filled the alley, she tried to pinpoint exactly where the corpse had been. It was nearly impossible, though, as there was no evidence that a dead body had been there. No blood, no gore, not even a sign of a struggle. It really wasn't much of a crime scene, was it?

Turning back to the entrance, she peeked out to be sure this was the right alley. Yes, right between the tea shop and the toy store. She strayed further inside, examining the walls closely for blood splatter or bullet holes. But still, there was nothing.

How could that be?

Her heart skipped, and her shoulders stiffened as a thought surfaced. What if the woman hadn't been murdered here? What if she had already been dead when her body was thrown into the alley?

Gripping her bag of tea, Trinket abandoned all previous plans of shopping and rushed home.