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Chapter 18
“Ian!” I called out nervously. “What are you doing at home at this time of the day?” I asked, pushing the journal into mine properly and keeping it out of sight.
“It's almost six, Iris,” he responded, a wide smile on his lips. My eyes were still on him, and my brows creased in curiosity. “P.m.? It's evening, Iris.” He closed the distance between us in his usual gentlemanly gait and brushed strands of hair from my face. He tucked them behind my ear and tilted my face to look at him with his index finger as he examined me like a doctor would. “Have you been in here all day?”
I forced a smile in response, and he shook his head in disapproval. “I want this case cracked, yes, but not like this, Iris. I can't believe you've been in here all day.&
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