Chapter ONE - Weebly

carefully into the chair. “Please forgive me if some of my
questions strike you as … indelicate. I need
information, and where murder is concerned one can’t
always mince words.”
“Of course, Mister Kaille. Proceed.”
“Can you think of anyone who would have wanted
to do your daughter harm?”
Berson shook his head. “Not a soul.”
“Did she have suitors, men she might have
spurned?”
“She’s had but one suitor for some time now. Cyrus
Derne, the eldest son of Fergus Derne, of whom you
might have heard.”
Ethan had heard of the elder Derne. He was nearly
as successful as Berson—another man Sephira would
have wanted Ethan to avoid.
“How long had Mister Derne and your daughter
been acquainted?”
“They’ve known each other since they were
children,” Berson said. “And he had been courting her
for the better part of a year. I expect they would have
been married sometime in the fall.”