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Series: A Rip Through Time #2.5
Published by Self Published on December 1, 2023
Genres: Mystery
Pages: 115
Format: eBook
Source: Amazon
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For modern-day detective Mallory Atkinson, being trapped in the body of Victorian housemaid means overcoming endless obstacles. Her current challenge is winning over the suspicious young parlormaid, Alice. Mallory's plan starts with teaching the girl to make Molotov cocktails, which is a perfectly valid science experiment and not at all a desperate ploy to gain Alice's attention. Before the lesson can begin, though, Alice receives a letter that has her slipping off in the night. Concerned for her safety--and naturally curious--Mallory follows. Mallory finds Alice at what seems like a simple dance hall, watching young men and women flirting and whirling in pretty dresses and dapper suitcoats. But nothing here is what is seems, and what starts as a simple surveillance exercise turns into a full-scale spy mission with Mallory's boss, Dr. Duncan Gray, at her side. Before the evening is done, those Molotov cocktails are probably going to come in handy.
I am racing through these stories. I just can’t get enough!
After being attacked in an alley while investigating the screams of a young woman, Det. Mallory Atkinson has body-swapped with a young Victorian housemaid named Catriona Mitchell.
Mallory is trying very hard to repair the relationship between Catriona and her sister-in-service, 13-year-old Alice. It turns out that not only was Catriona a thief, but she also bullied the younger housemaid.
When Alice receives a mysterious letter and sneaks out of the house, Mallory knows that sneaking out behind Alice isn’t going to do anything to boost their relationship but the police officer in her won’t allow this 13-year-old to run into a possibly dangerous situation. It is not long before Mallory too picks up a tail when Dr. Duncan Gray sees her following young Alice.
They follow Alice into the old town where they find some young people dancing. They initially aren’t concerned about Alice’s sister attending a dance until they realize they are being watched in the shadows by some old men, who keep pick the young girls out of the crowd.
Alice is concerned that her sister is going to be forced into a situation where she will be prostituted to a rich man, but when Mallory tries to create a distraction so Alice and her sister can run, she forgets for a moment that she is wearing the face of Catriona Mitchell, a thief who has backstabbed many, many others in the back alleys of old town. She is recognized right away and she too is being taken into those back rooms.
When Mallory tries to fight her way out, she is chloroformed and when she wakes up she find herself in a much worse situation as she believes young Catriona is being trafficked and about to set sail for places unknown. Finding herself in Victorian Scotland is shocking enough but if she doesn’t figure out how to escape her captors, she has no way of knowing if she will ever see Victorian Scotland again, let alone figure out how to get back to the year 2019.
Favorite Scene:
I crawl across the floor, which is no less filthy from the return trip. This dress is done for, and that’s not like ripping a T-shirt in the modern world. I try not to calculate the cost of replacing it. Oh, Gray would happily buy me a new one, and Isla would be horrified to know I was even worrying about such a thing–rather like a guest worrying about replacing a ripped hand towel. But I really do want to make my own way, as much as I can.
Right now, the dress is inconsequential. I have a bigger concern. Mae. If she’s in shock, how the hell am I going to get her up here? Can I sneak down and open the door instead? What if even that doesn’t work? I can’t carry her out.
And all that is unnecessary fretting, because when I lean through the hatch and say, “Come on,” she only says, “Is the way clear?”
I hesitate thinking I’ve misheard.
“Have you cleared the way?” she says, her voice calm as she gets to her feet.
Have I cleared the way? She’s not in shock. She’s sitting on her ass waiting for me to prep a damn escape route for her.
“Yes, your highness,” I whisper down. “I even scrubbed the path.”
Her lips tighten. “You sound like Alice.”
“Good,” I mutter.
When I look out again, she says, “I need help.”
“That much is obvious,” I mutter. “Climb up on the crates.”
She hikes her skirts and struggles to get her boot up high enough.
“Bloody hell,” I say, and I lean out as far as I dare. “Take my hand. Work with me, all right? I can’t pull you up on my own.”
I still end up doing more pulling than necessary. It’s like rescuing a terrified cat. I even end up with the scratches, and I’d be a lot more understanding if she were terrified. She’s not. She’s a pretty girl who has grown up being treated like a china doll, too delicate to do anything for herself. Learned helplessness combined with the expectation that she will be helped. She deserves it…for being pretty.
For all my grumbling about Catriona, I can at least give her credit for not turning out like this. Catriona could look after herself. It’s what she did to others along the way that’s the problem.
I finally get Mae into the attic. She says something about not being able to see and something about the floor being dirty, and I tell her–in a period appropriate manner–to shut up. I also don’t shove her back down the hatch, proving I am not Catriona.