Plagium (Keepers Book 1)

Chapter 17 -In Which Motor-Mail Sends a Clue

Mr. William Matthews stood before Tracey and Mittie, his bushy mustache quivering with rage, and his eyes sharply darting between the two. "Well?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry Mr. Matthews, but you must explain your coming here?" Tracey replied. "How did you find where I live?"

"You should have thought of this kind of repercussion when you stole Remington's Keeper book." He huffed. Mr. Mathews marched into the foyer and proceeded to rifle through a nearby bookcase, carefully placing books onto the mantle place as he quickly flipped through its pages.

"I did not steal anything," Tracey indignantly said as she picked up the displaced books and returned them to the shelves. "And I would hardly think you would find his book in this fashion."

"So you do have it?"

"W..wha—," Tracey stammered, carefully keeping her gaze from the side table where she had earlier placed it.

"Don't you know what it looks like?" Mittie said, venturing into the room.

"Of course I don't!" he exclaimed. "He's never shown it to me." Mr. Matthews moved his search to the neighboring bookshelf, this time carelessly tossing books aside as he looked.

"Mr. Matthews," Tracey said, quickly stepping to his side. "Mr. Porter may be a friend of yours, but I've only just met you yesterday! As far as I see it, you're an intruder, coming to my home and ransacking it unannounced."

"You did let yourself in kinda forcefully...," Mittie quietly added.

"If you knew the importance of a keeper book, you'd understand," he replied, moving to the next shelf.

"And why are you so convinced that I have it?" Tracey retorted.

Mr. Matthews ignored her.

"Mr. Matthews," Tracey evenly said. "I've had a long night and seeing that you will not cooperate, I have no choice but to call the constables."

Mr. Matthews paused, shooting a sharp gaze towards her.

"Wait a minute, Trace," Mittie said in alarm.

"You've somehow located where I live, barged into my home, and proceeded to search for a book that I may or may not have," Tracey listed. "I'm sure the High Constable would enjoy this case of stalking."

Mr. Matthews held Tracey's gaze for a few moments, before sighing in defeat. Internally, Tracey let out her own sigh of relief. "I apologize for the abruptness of my arrival, Ms. Higgenbottom," he said as he straightened his suit. "You must understand the circumstances of this situation."

"And that would be?" Tracey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"May I have a seat?"

"Have you not already?" she dryly replied. "Here," she continued, pointing to a modest stool. Mr. Matthews hesitated, his eyes darting to one of the plusher seats. "Mittie, why don't you join us?"

Hesitantly, Mittie entered the room. "Are you sure? Because it seems a bit tense in here..."

"No, no it's quite alright," Mr. Matthews sighed, perching onto the stool. He frowned as he settled on the wooden seat, then cleared his throat. "Again, I do apologize for barging in here so abruptly. You must be wondering why I'm here," he said as Tracey and Mittie settled into their respective seats.

"Moreso why you need this book so much?" Mittie replied.

"So you do have it?" Mr. Matthews boomed, eagerly leaning forward.

Mittie glanced to Tracey, who returned the look with a small shake of her head.

"You must understand!" Mr. Matthews said, "I should have known something was wrong when you asked about the letter."