Alistair loosened his hold on lan's shirt collar. Worried that Harold and Phoebe might catch their conversation, he dragged lan further from earshot.
"Relax—Mr. Bailey spoils his wife rotten. Even if she went at him full force, he wouldn't fight back or even defend himself."
lan's mouth twitched at Alistair's bizarre reasoning.
When they finished their hushed exchange and turned back, they discovered that Harold and Phoebe had already left the courtyard. Glancing up, they spotted the second-floor bedroom light flickering on.
Already heading to bed? Didn't they just talk about going after the Grangers? What happened to bringing down the Grangers? lan puzzled.
As lan moved toward the house, Alistair grabbed his arm. "Hold on—where exactly do you think you're heading?"
