The nearest desk was covered with scattered papers, so Mason swiped some aside to make room and perched on its edge. “It was…surprising.”
“It was fantastic,” Zoe corrected. She continued to pace, burning up her apparently endless energy. “People will try to tell you violence is never the answer, but those people are wrong.”
Mason pulled a face but didn’t argue. Instead, he asked, “Zo, what was Gavin doing? I didn’t think he shopped here.”
“Ooh, no, of course he doesn’t. Our humble store contains too many peasants for His Royal Assness to deign to visit. Prince Gavin, Lord of Acne, gets his groceries delivered.” Zoe rolled her eyes then added for Keira’s benefit, “Gavin is Dr. Kelsey’s son. Because his dad’s oh so important, Gavin has the impression that he’s equally precious by virtue of association.” She glanced aside and shrugged. “And he still hates me for that time I called him a pimply faced toad in school.”
“That brings me back to my question.” Mason ran his hands through his hair. “What was he saying?”
Zoe’s smile fractured. She rubbed the heel of her hand over her cheeks, smudging the mascara, and exhaled a humorless laugh. “Oh. That. Mum went to see Dr. Kelsey last week and…well, Gavin’s a jerk. I guess secrets don’t survive long in this town.”
Keira turned Gavin’s comments over in her mind. There had been something about treatment and a funeral in less than six months… Her insides went cold.
The light bulb painted deep shadows around Mason’s eyes as he shifted forward. “Patient confidentially is a huge deal. Dr. Kelsey should never have discussed personal matters with his son. He could lose his license for it. That aside, if your mother would like to see a different GP, I have some contacts—”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Zoe kept rubbing at her eyes, smearing the black everywhere until she looked like a panda. “She…just needed a test. Gonna get results next week—no, don’t you dare.”
Mason had stepped toward her, arms extended for a hug, but Zoe stopped him with a furious glare and an outstretched finger. “No. No physical comfort. You’re probably filthy with germs, you repulsive plague monger.”
He chuckled and obediently returned to his seat on the edge of the desk. “All right. But if you ever want to discuss anything, or if you have questions…”
“I’ll be sure to get in contact never.” Zoe took a deep breath, shook herself out, and finally stopped pacing. She settled into a chair opposite Keira and gave her a weary smile. “Thanks, by the way. I was this close to decking him…but that’s exactly what he wanted. To get me fired. I swear that kid’s missing a few screws in his head.” She grimaced, then her expression brightened. “And, Keira, what the hell? I didn’t know you could fight like that.”
Keira managed a weak laugh. “Neither did I.”
“Honestly, it might be divine intervention that you arrived in Blighty. There are so many people here who are in need of a good punching. I’ll write you a list.”
“While I can agree that Blighty has a severe lack of rampant violence, we might want to table that idea for a while,” Mason said mildly. “I think, right now, it’s important that we all agree on what happened to Gavin. I saw him slip in the orange juice he spilled. He probably got a couple of nasty bruises on that shelf he fell against. You saw the same thing, right?”
“O-o-oh.” Comprehension lit up her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, gotcha. He totally slipped. But it would be such a Gavin move to try and blame dear Keira. The surveillance camera in that corner of the shop has been malfunctioning lately too. But at least you and I were witnesses to his clumsiness, and we can tell the police all about it.”
Keira covered her face with her hands, half laughing and half groaning. “You guys shouldn’t be covering up for me.”
“Really? Let me consult my conscience.” Mason folded his arms and pursed his lips while he pretended to think, then shrugged happily. “Nope. Both my shoulder angel and shoulder demon are in agreement: Gavin slipped, and it was one of the most magnificent examples of instant karma I’ve ever seen.”
Zoe nodded. “I doubt he’ll go to the police in any case. There’s no love lost between the Kelseys and Constable Sanderson. Too many noise complaints from the doctor, and not enough action from the constable.”
“That’s true. If he wants revenge, Gavin is more likely to enact his own version of justice.” Mason’s smile dropped. “Both of you, be careful. He’s not a pleasant character, and apparently, he’s started carrying a knife. Compound that with the rumors…”
“Rumors?” Keira asked.
Mason grimaced. “The Kelseys went through five dogs while Gavin was growing up, one after another. They either got sick or just disappeared. I’m not accusing Gavin of anything, but…that’s not normal.”
You felt it when you bumped into him. You know what he is.
Keira chewed the inside of her cheek before asking, “Do you think he could have hurt another person?”
“Who even knows what he’s capable of?” Zoe waved a hand. “He’s carrying a knife now. Psycho.”
Keira wanted to press further, to ask if there had been any missing person reports or unresolved murders in the last year, but saying it out loud would sound like paranoia. Instead, she said, “It’s probably best to avoid him for a while.”
Zoe rose and crossed to the desk, where a large, outdated computer was half-hidden under the paperwork. She jiggled the mouse, and the monitor lit up to show a split screen of the store’s security cameras. Her lips pursed as she scanned the feeds, then she pushed away from the desk. “He’s gone at least. I’ll get that juice cleared up before any real customers arrive. It’s getting late, so you two should scatter if you want to get home before sundown.”
“I’ll help clean up the juice,” Keira said. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”
Zoe threw her head back in a cackling laugh. “Oh, you sweet, pure soul, Keira. I work retail. Not even bodily fluids can faze me anymore. Trust me, juice is nothing.”
“Even so…” Words failed Keira, so she was grateful when Mason stepped forward.
“You shouldn’t be alone. Is there anyone you can call?”
“Oh, absolutely. I’ll call Lucas if Gavin shows his face again. Gav won’t cause trouble with the mayor’s son there.”
Keira blinked. “Lucas is the mayor’s son?”
“Yeah, and a huge brat to boot.” Zoe’s grin was so broad that it scrunched her nose. “I’m going to miss bossing him around when his mom finally says he’s done enough penitence.”
“I’ve still got your phone.” Keira rose and followed Mason to the door. “Give me a call if you need company, or even if you just want to talk, okay?”
“I’ll do that, dove.”
Mason clapped Zoe on the back, then opened the door for Keira. “Drink lots of water and don’t overexert yourself,” he said to Zoe, who shooed them out.
“Sure, whatever. Now get outta my store. You can pay me back for those cookies later.”
Once they were back on the main footpath, they slowed to a stroll. Keira tucked her hands into her pockets and turned in the church’s direction. “I’ve got some stuff to sort out, so I’d better head back. Thanks for the coffee.”
He kept pace beside her. “I’m walking you home. And don’t try to argue. Gavin doesn’t know where you live, but it probably wouldn’t be too hard for him to find out.”
“I’m not worried about him. Unless—” She peered at Mason. “Gavin doesn’t have goons to do his bidding, does he?”
Mason snorted with suppressed laughter. “No, thankfully he’s the son of a doctor, not a gangster. But I’d be wary of him regardless.” His smile vanished as they turned into the church’s lane. “Gavin’s kind of a prat, but I didn’t think he’d actually attack me.”
She nudged Mason with her elbow. “It was that jab about his father buying his way into college. Is that true?”
“Ha! Yes, and it’s even worse than that. Dr. Kelsey ha
s tried to get him into half a dozen prestigious institutes. He eventually joined the school I was attending but was kicked out for disruptive behavior before the end of his first year. It’s comforting to see that money won’t open every door.”
Keira watched her companion out of the corner of her eye. He seemed just as comfortable as normal, but then, Gavin had demonstrated an ability to needle a person’s vulnerabilities with shocking precision. “Sorry if it’s none of my business, but…that stuff he said about you…it’s not true. I don’t think anyone who knows you would think you’re a disappointment.”
Mason smiled. “Thank you. Don’t worry. I’m impervious to Gavin’s barbs.” He looked away, but not before Keira caught the ghost of an emotion in his eyes, something akin to regret.
She wanted to say something else—to smooth over whatever had hurt him—but they were already at the parsonage, and she knew anything she could say would be gently rebuffed. Whatever afflicted Mason was personal and private. He wouldn’t share it before he was ready.
“Should I take Daisy now, or would you prefer to keep her for the night?”
They were facing the stone fence surrounding the cottage, and Keira found herself confronted by the prospect of goodbyes before she was ready. Daisy lay on the stone step in front of the door, apparently having fallen asleep there while the sun was still high enough to warm her. Keira wanted to ask to keep the cat for one more night, but that was a selfish wish. It would be best for Daisy to move to her new home before she became attached to the cottage. “I don’t have a cat carrier.”
“She seems calm enough that I could probably just carry her.”
Keira nodded and approached the cat. Daisy roused and blinked up at her expectantly. Keira felt numb as she lifted the cat. “C’mon, Daisy. You’re getting a permanent home.”
She turned to give the little black creature to Mason, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. Instead, she buried her face into Daisy’s fur. Purrs rumbled through her, intensely loud, and the cat licked at Keira’s ear. She finally forced herself to relax her hold. “Take good care of her.”
“I will. I promise.” Mason cradled the cat to his chest as concern clouded his face. “Keira—”
“I’m fine.” That was an atrocious lie. She felt as though her heart were being ripped out. “But you’d better take her now before I change my mind and try to smuggle her into my luggage.”
Mason’s smile was one of the saddest she’d ever seen. He seemed to want to say something. Instead he shook his head and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be there to see you off tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
She entered the cottage and shut the door but couldn’t stop herself from crossing to the window. Mason had his head bent as he walked toward the cemetery’s entrance. The small black cat peeked over his shoulder. Her ears pricked forward and her eyes stared, unblinking, until Keira had to slide below the window’s frame to escape the cat’s gaze.
Her brain knew she’d made the right choice, but nothing had ever felt so wrong.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Keira gave herself a solid hour to indulge in abject misery as she sat under the window, staring at the ceiling and blinking at threatening tears. Eventually, though, she was forced to admit she could afford only so much moping before becoming thoroughly sick of herself.
There wasn’t much left to clean in the cottage, but she made herself get up and go over the details regardless. She had to be at the train station early the following morning, and the last thing she wanted was to leave a dirty house as her parting gift to Adage. She scrubbed everything that was scrubbable, washed and restacked the dishes, folded the clothes she hadn’t worn, and packed the ones she would be taking into plastic bags. Then she collected her possessions to make sure none of them would be forgotten. Her assets didn’t amount to much: a handful of change left over from her shopping and the mysterious photograph showing the three unfamiliar figures.
At last, there was nothing more to do. She would make the bed the following morning, but the rest of the cottage was as clean as she could get it without investing in bleach and a vacuum.
It feels so empty without Daisy.
Keira slapped her cheeks to shake herself out of the threatening moroseness. C’mon, Keira. We already tried being miserable. It wasn’t very fun, was it? How about we do something productive instead?
That was easier said than done. She peered at the clock on the mantel. Ten thirty. Zoe had said she stayed up most nights, but there was always the risk she would go to bed early after what had happened at the general store. On the other hand, Keira needed to speak to her, and it needed to be at a time when the conversation wouldn’t be easily overheard by anyone else in her house.
Torn by indecision, Keira picked up the mobile Zoe had given her and paced the length of the cottage. She couldn’t afford to risk Zoe not answering. The town’s resident conspiracy theorist was vital to her plan. She crossed her fingers and hunted through the preset numbers. There were three: Mason’s, Constable Sanderson’s, and Zoe’s.
The phone had barely finished its second ring before it was answered by a breathlessly eager voice. “Keira! What happened? Did the men show up again? Government operatives? Aliens?”
“You wish.” Keira found herself laughing. Zoe’s fervor was a welcome relief from the despondency. “I was calling to ask a favor, actually.”
“After what you did to Gavin, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth.”
“Oh, okay. Well, this hopefully won’t be quite as inconvenient. Are you free tonight?”
“Always and forever, my sweet honey muffin.”
“Ew. Please don’t ever call me that again.”
Zoe’s cackling laugh blared over the phone. “Okay then, my bitter bran muffin, what can I do for you?”
Keira took a deep breath. “I need your help to do something crazy.”
“Oh! Good! I was worried this might be a boring request.”
“No, I mean it’s really, really, stupidly crazy. And somewhat illegal.”
“Where will I meet you?”
She paused and squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m not joking, Zoe. We could go to jail for this.”
“It’s okay. I already said yes. You can stop selling me on the idea. Should I pick you up?”
“No. I’ll meet you at the fountain at midnight. Wear dark clothes and bring a flashlight.”
“Oooh, are we gonna rob someone? Can I suggest a target? Or, wait, maybe you’re actually a pyromaniac—”
Keira hung up so Zoe wouldn’t hear her muffled laughter. She’d always known Zoe would agree to help, but her friend’s overwhelming enthusiasm was like food for her soul.
She tucked Adage’s flashlight and the kitchen knife into her pocket, then paced the length of the cottage while she watched the minute hand inch around the clock. The unconventional sleep schedule was dragging on her, so she brewed a strong cup of tea for the caffeine. Sitting down would allow exhaustion to creep over her and lull her into its embrace. Instead, she kept on her feet, stretching her arms, and gulped the drink down while it was still hot enough to scorch her throat.
When the clock hit eleven thirty, she rinsed the mug, set it neatly in the cupboard where it would likely sit for the next few years, until Adage found another guest to place in the groundskeeper’s cottage, and wrapped a scarf around her neck. She’d chosen to wear the jeans, jacket, and boots she’d arrived at the parsonage with—partly because they were already dark and sturdy, but mostly because she knew Adage wouldn’t approve of what she had planned for that night, and she hated the idea of wearing his generosity while doing something that would disappoint him.
She opened the door and called over her shoulder, “Bye, Daisy,” then flinched. It was hard to know whether she wanted to laugh or cry more. Instead, she pressed the door closed and turned toward the cemetery.
Mist hung thick around the stones. It shifted lazily in the wind, and she was certain th
e graveyard would be full if she used her second sight. She touched the muscle and felt it ache. It was still sore from the previous night, so she didn’t pull on it—especially as it would be vital for her plan to work.
This is our last chance, Emma. Wish me luck.
She turned away from the graves and strode past the parsonage. Mason’s prediction of rain seemed to be accurate; heavy clouds were growing across the sky, blotting out the moon and stars. Keira had to strain to see through the dark, but she didn’t dare turn on her flashlight. She’d been cautious when visiting the abandoned mill, but this night’s stakes would be far higher if they were caught—not just for herself, but for her friend. She couldn’t take any chances.
As she reached the base of the driveway, something large and metallic on the side of the road caught her notice. The car had parked under thick trees so not even moonlight reached it, making it virtually invisible. Keira slunk back toward the bushes, lowering her body and blending into the shadows, as she stared at it. There were no houses nearby, and she hadn’t seen a car parked there before. Mason’s earlier worry that Gavin would want revenge came back to her. Curiosity to see if anyone was inside the vehicle burned, but the windows were tinted, and she didn’t dare get any closer.
The car had been parked in such a way that no one could go along the driveway without passing it. Keira circumvented that by slinking through the shrubs and brush. She kept her feet light and her movements fluid, knowing she would be virtually invisible in the low light but still unwilling to make noise in case the car was occupied.
The shrubs thinned as she neared the florist, so she took a chance and dashed around the building’s corner. With the shop between her and the car, she pressed her back to the stones and listened, waiting for the telltale sound of a clicking car door or humming engine. Nothing. If someone was in the car, that person had either fallen asleep or failed to notice her.
She turned and crept toward the fountain. Zoe already sat on the stone edge, ankles crossed and arms folded over her thick parka to protect against the cold. She was looking in the wrong direction and didn’t notice Keira until she stepped onto the stone. Zoe squeaked and pressed her hands over her mouth. “Jeez, don’t sneak up on me like that!”
The Whispering Dead: Gravekeeper Book 1 Page 16