Maybe it was the shocks she had had that day, or the tension that had been building between her and Ben in one way or another from her first day back in Belfrey, but all Keeley’s restraint, her carefully guarded feelings, burst like a dam. In a fluid movement she stood up, watching Ben’s look of disappointment change to surprise mixed with desire when she held out her hand to him.
“Shall we go upstairs?”
There was an awful moment when Ben just stared at her, when for a split second she thought that she had gone too far, that he would say no and she would die of embarrassment, but then he stood up and picked her up, right into his arms, and proceeded to carry her up the stairs. Keeley shrieked in delight at his actions, pointing out the way to the bedroom for him with any trace of embarrassment forgotten. As he laid her down, his touch becoming tender, all thoughts of mysterious murderers and poisons blurred into one and were then swiftly eclipsed by Ben’s expert hands. For a few hours that evening, then later that night, then again in the early hours of the morning when she awoke to find him next to her and reached for him with a kind of wonder, all her fears were forgotten.
Chapter Seventeen
“Morning, beautiful.”
Keeley woke with the sun on her face and Ben smiling down at her, and had to blink a few times to be sure she was truly awake and not having some kind of wish-fulfillment dream. No, she realized with a little thrill, it was all real, and he was there, in her bed, clad only in his underwear and a smile.
“Hey, there.”
Keeley watched him from under her hair as he got up and strode across the room, completely unself-conscious in his near nakedness. Admiring the long lines of his thighs and tight curves of his butt, she pouted with disappointment when he pulled on his jeans.
“I’ve got to get to work soon,” he said, misreading her pout, “but I’ve got time for some breakfast, if you like? If vegetarians eat breakfast?”
Keeley laughed. “Of course. How about I make us something?” She couldn’t remember the last time she had had a man to cook for in the morning, and being able to make the offer gave her a funny little thrill. Oh dear, she thought, one night with him, and I’ve turned into a ’50s housewife.
Ben looked uncertain. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I like a hearty breakfast, not nuts and seeds and things.”
Keeley glared at him, thoughts of picket fences and marital bliss momentarily forgotten.
“I do eat proper food, you know. You liked my curry last night.”
Ben looked mollified. “I did, it was lovely. Okay, I’m in your hands.”
Keeley sent him down the corner shop for eggs and milk, having used up everything she bought from Diana Glover, and set about chopping mushrooms, onions, and tomatoes for an omelet. With some French bread toast and fresh orange juice, that should send Ben on his way with a full stomach. By the time he came back, she was singing softly to herself. Ben came up behind her, dropping a kiss on the back of her neck that sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.
“You sound happy,” he whispered into her ear. Keeley put down her knife and turned to look at him, their faces just inches apart.
“I am,” she said, her voice serious. She was—in fact, she felt happier than she had since coming to Belfrey. She leaned up and kissed him, and lost a few minutes in his arms, until Ben disentangled himself with a frustrated sigh.
“If we carry on like that, I’ll never get to work.”
“And you’ll never get your breakfast. Sit,” she commanded, waving him toward the kitchen table. Ben did as he was told, never taking his eyes off her.
“So am I,” he said. Keeley frowned, not understanding his meaning.
“Happy. About us.”
“Oh.” Keeley felt herself blush, then grinned as she understood what his words implied. Us.
They ate in comfortable silence, every so often stopping to grin at each other over the table. Keeley didn’t want him to go, for the day to begin, bringing with it the knowledge that they had yet to unravel the mystery. Ben broke the spell first.
“I had a call from Kate while I was walking down to the shop.”
Keeley waited for him to go on, praying there was no more bad news.
“Bambi made it through the night. He’s still very poorly, but it looks as though he’ll hang in there.”
Keeley breathed out a sigh of relief, along with a little pang of guilt that she had been so wrapped up in Ben that the events of the day before had slipped to the back of her mind.
“It’s been confirmed that the meat was poisoned. Not that there was much doubt, but we needed to be sure it wasn’t something else that caused the seizures. Apparently he was barking at people in the street just a little while before, which Jack says was most unlike him.”
Keeley nodded, thinking about Bambi’s seemingly gentle nature.
“Perhaps it was the crowds. The High Street was very busy yesterday.”
“Maybe. Either way, that meat was definitely left there for him to find. It was laced with an anti-inflammatory painkiller often used to treat arthritis.”
Keeley felt surprised, realizing she had been expecting him to say something like arsenic or cyanide, not something so mundane.
“That could have killed him?”
“According to Rogers, the vet, a lot of everyday medications can be absolutely fatal to dogs, even in small doses.”
“That gives you something to go on, then, doesn’t it?” A killer with arthritis, who knows about dogs. It sounded less than sinister even to her own ears. Maybe she was wrong about Bambi’s poisoning, and it had nothing to do with the actual murderer, just a neighbor who didn’t like dogs.
“Not really. It was an over-the-counter medicine, so it’s not as though it would have to been obtained with a prescription. And Rogers regularly gives talks and things on animal care and suchlike. It’s not necessarily an indication of specialist knowledge.”
“Plus there’s always Google,” Keeley pointed out. She imagined it would be possible to find out anything on the Internet these days. All that potentially dangerous knowledge, available at the click of a button. Ben reached over the table for her hand.
“Whoever is doing all this, I’ll figure it out, Keeley. It’s personal now. I suppose,” he said, looking away from her, “it’s why I was so reluctant to get involved with you at first. I didn’t want it to compromise the case. If there’s one thing my dad has always drummed into me, it was to never bring work home with you. I guess that’s one rule I’ve decided not to keep.”
Keeley sat back in her chair, taken aback by his little speech. She felt a rush of feeling for him that went far beyond desire.
“You thought about it before? Us getting involved?”
A flush rose on Ben’s cheeks, though it was gone so fast, Keeley wasn’t sure if she had imagined it.
“As soon as I walked into the Tavern and saw you, and you spat your drink all over me, I knew you were the One.”
He laughed, and Keeley with him, and there were a few more lingering embraces before Ben managed to leave after arranging to pick her up and take her to dinner that evening. But once he had gone, Keeley couldn’t help her mind turning to darker things. Ben’s declaration that the case had now become personal to him as well drove home to her that, one way or the other, this wasn’t likely to end smoothly. Whoever was behind all this was clearly gunning for Keeley herself, for whatever reason, and now with her and Ben developing a relationship, and the opening of the Yoga Café just days away, Keeley understood just how much she now had to lose.
She was reminded of that again later that day as she put the finishing touches to the café itself. She had distributed flyers and leaflets around the local shops, on her guard for any hostility that may possibly mask something more, but it seemed that on the whole, the locals were warming to the idea of the Yoga Café. She was congratulated on her food at the festival the day before, and interest was also growing in her class at the center. She met Megan for lunch,
opting to take sandwiches into her friend’s shop rather than going to the Tavern as usual, not wanting to see Jack and Bambi’s usual place empty. She was bursting to tell her about Ben, but unsure if Megan might think she had somehow been unfair to Duane.
It seemed she had no need to worry, as Megan had something to tell her.
“Apparently Duane’s started seeing someone, though he’s being very cagey about who it is. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” Keeley assured her, trying not to make it so obvious that she was, in fact, delighted. “I’ve got a date with Ben this evening.” For some reason, she wasn’t ready to confide in Megan about the previous night. Not that she thought the other woman would be at all judgmental, but it was something still new enough that she wanted to keep it to herself.
“Police officer Ben? Like I needed a crystal ball to see that coming. Lucky you.”
“Thanks.” Keeley felt a warm glow creep through her. Which was halted somewhat by Megan’s next words.
“It will put that cow at the diner’s nose out of joint, and serve her right for being so mean to you. Everyone in Belfrey knows she’s been after Ben for years.”
“Time for her to back off, then,” Keeley said firmly, before changing the subject. She told her what Ben had said about Bambi. Megan nodded thoughtfully.
“When he brings the dog home, I’ll pop round with some herbal remedies for him.” Seeing Keeley’s dubious expression, she said with a touch of defensiveness, “Dogs react very well to natural medicine. And they’re sensitive creatures, you know. He may well be emotionally affected by his ordeal.”
Keeley remembered something else Ben had told her that morning.
“They thought he might have been ill, at first, having some kind of fit. Apparently he was barking at people on the High Street.”
“I was there,” Megan said with a slow nod as she recalled the previous afternoon. “I had not long left you, and I was looking at one of the stalls and I saw Mrs. Rowland. I had just gone over to talk to her when Jack went past with the dog, and he was making a right noise. Scared myself and Mrs. Rowland something terrible.”
“Perhaps he had already eaten some of the poisoned meat and it was starting to take effect,” Keeley mused.
Lunch over, Keeley gave the café one last clean and polish before setting off back home. She was looking forward to her first proper “date” with Ben, even if they had gotten the order of things rather back to front, and was having the predictable panic regarding what she should wear.
She had settled on a polka-dot sleeveless dress that was snug on the top, then flared from her waist to her knees. It was one her mother had bought her, that she had never worn, maybe for that precise reason, but it fit like a dream and made her feel just the right combination of flirty and feminine. She wrestled her hair into something resembling a chic updo, and even opened a new red lipstick she had bought in New York but never had occasion to wear. As she applied it in the mirror, she resolved that she was not going to utter one word that night about murder or arson or poisonings or smelly packages. She would just be a young woman, out on a date with her new boyfriend. Considering they had already spent the night together—and what a night—she felt justified using the word.
The doorbell went, and she nearly smudged her lipstick. Glancing at the clock, she saw he was early. Her heart skipped in her chest as she went to let him in, smoothing her hair one last time.
Her face fell when she opened the door not to Ben but to Annie.
“I just thought I would see how you were, dear, after that awful thing with Mr. Tibbons’s dog yesterday.”
Keeley smiled at her, trying not to look disappointed.
“That’s very kind of you. I’m just on my way out, actually.” She fidgeted in the doorway, wondering if Annie would be terribly offended if she didn’t let her in. But Annie was taking in her outfit and makeup with a knowing smile.
“I see. Would that be with a certain young police officer?”
Keeley couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Yes, it so happens it would.”
“Well, I’m delighted for you, dear, it’s about time you had a bit of luck. And I daresay you’ll be much better for him than the Philips girl he was dating before. Never have liked her much.” Annie sniffed in disapproval, not noticing Keeley’s look of confusion.
“Do you mean Raquel? I don’t think they were ever dating.”
“Oh, they definitely were,” Annie said with a nod, “though it was a while ago now.” Her landlady’s expression grew troubled. “I haven’t said anything out of turn, have I?”
Keeley shook her head, though her heart felt like a lead weight in her chest. She made her excuses and retreated back into the cottage, shutting the door and leaning her back against its solid frame as though it could lend her strength. Ben had dated Raquel? Although she had thought as much, especially after the way the girl had cozied up to him that day at Mario’s, but after Ben’s insistence that he didn’t even like her, and his obvious disapproval of her relationship with the senior officer, she had decided any relationship between them was purely wishful thinking on Raquel’s part. Now she wasn’t so sure. From what Annie said, Ben had been a willing participant.
She should have asked Annie how she knew, she thought, because although she didn’t think her landlady was one to listen to idle gossip, her sources might not have been totally accurate. If the information had come through Norma or Maggie, for example. In just a few weeks, she had already seen how the Belfrey rumor mill could operate. There had been insinuations about her and Ben before anything had even happened, after all.
But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that Annie was mistaken, she couldn’t stop remembering Raquel’s sitting on “Benny’s” lap at the Italian restaurant, or the memory of them in Ben’s car, their heads close together. She only had Ben’s word for it that there was nothing more to it, that Raquel was in fact involved with another officer. What if, she thought with a stab of jealousy that physically pained her, causing her to clutch at her stomach, he had in fact been covering up for her all along?
The door went again, and this time Keeley knew it would be Ben, but now her heart was skipping with dread rather than excited anticipation.
She opened the door and let him in without a word, ignoring the puzzled look on his face. In light-colored chinos and a pale blue shirt, he looked almost unbearably handsome, and she prayed Annie was wrong. Or that she could just forget about it. Ben’s past relationships had nothing to do with her at all, really. But even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t something she could just let go. He would have lied to her, at least by omission, and she had had more than enough of secrets and lies to last her a lifetime.
“Keeley, what is it?” he said with an urgent note to his voice. “Has there been another letter, or worse?”
“No,” she said quickly, “nothing like that. But I do need to ask you something.”
“Go on.”
At once, Keeley felt foolish, wishing she hadn’t said anything at all, but it was too late now. She looked directly at him, trying not to notice how piercing his eyes were, or think about the way they had gazed into hers the night before while he had made love to her.
“Have you dated Raquel?”
Ben looked taken aback. Whatever he had thought Keeley wanted to ask, this clearly wasn’t it.
“What? Keeley, what is this about? I explained to you what I was discussing with Raquel before. Why would you ask me this now?”
He looked angry, but he also, she noticed, hadn’t directly answered her question.
“Because it’s apparently common knowledge,” she said, and her voice came out much snappier and more petulant than she had intended.
Ben raised an eyebrow at her.
“Is it, now?” He sounded cold now, his face taking on that closed expression she was familiar with from her return to Belfrey. The very temperature in the room seemed to have dropped a few degrees.
<
br /> “Well, is it true?” She held her breath for his answer, wincing when it came even though it was by now expected.
“Yes, I did date her. Very briefly. Exactly how is this relevant to anything?”
Keeley’s mouth fell open at that piece of barefaced cheek.
“How is it relevant?” Her voice was raised now, and she was too angry to care whether she was being irrational or not. “How is it not relevant? She’s got to be the chief suspect, at least for the letters, and she’s gone out of her way to be vile to me, and you didn’t think this was worth mentioning before you took me to bed?”
A look of hurt crossed Ben’s features, to be swiftly replaced with a mask of disdain.
“What I think,” he said slowly, his words cutting her like knives, “is that you are being completely ridiculous.”
Keeley turned away, unable to look at him, not wanting him to see how much he had upset her. “You should go. This was a bad idea.” She deliberately made her tone as cutting as his own. She heard a sharp intake of breath from Ben, felt rather than heard him step toward her, but then he whirled around and was gone, slamming the door after him.
* * *
Keeley crumpled. She sagged against the wall, hot tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. How could she have been so stupid? She was torn between running outside and calling for him to come back and going upstairs and burning the sheets they had slept on. Made love on. It had been so long since she allowed a man so close, and not just in the physical sense, and she had been wrong. He had lied to her.
A niggling little voice told her she was overreacting, but it was overridden by a fresh wave of anger. Rather than racing upstairs to take her frustrations out on the bed linen, she went into the kitchen and started brewing a pot of herbal tea. The flowers in Annie’s vase needed watering. She got on with the mundane tasks, trying to deepen her shallow breath, trying to pretend her hands weren’t trembling, but all the while, her senses were on hyper-alert, desperate for Ben to come back through the door and tell her he was sorry, and it was all right, and she hadn’t just ruined everything with her irrational jealousy.
Downward Facing Death Page 21