CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Rachel replaced the letter in the pile on the desk and pulled off her gloves. The sash of the closest window was open about a foot and, though she couldn’t push it any higher, she was able to squeeze her head and shoulders through the gap. The early evening air was blustery and cool on her face, carrying the echo of revelry from nearby restaurants and pubs. She agreed with Polidori’s observation that the chances were minimal of surviving the drop without at least some damage. Even sliding across the eve of the portico would require extreme dexterity. She certainly would not attempt it. She pulled on her coat and took her laptop downstairs.
Aubrey was sitting at the kitchen counter reading his book. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Rachel replied, her thoughts still lost in the
