by Emily Selby
'How much?' she croaked. She leant on the desk.
'A little over twenty-six thousand pounds.'
Katie slumped against the back of her chair. 'I don't have that kind of money.' Her voice broke into a whisper. She wiped her free hand on her jeans. The world was swirling around her.
'It's not up to you to pay,' Roy explained. 'Theoretically, it should be paid out of the estate. But as there is not enough cash, I have to find someone to contribute, and that's why I'm asking you...' His voice trailed off. The tense pause indicated he was expecting her to say something.
'How much?' she asked, her throat dry as baking paper.
'According to my calculations, about thirty per cent of that. It's pro rata, based on the value of your share against the total.'
Katie forced her mushy brain to do the maths. 'Over eight thousand pounds! There’s no way I can find that sort of money.' She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. 'Is there any other option?'
Roy sighed heavily and cleared his throat. 'We could sell your workshop and the land, pay the tax and then I'll give you the value of the asset minus the tax.'
'So, I'd get the money?' Katie asked, her heart accelerating. Maybe not all was lost...
'Yes.'
'How much?'
'I've estimated the value of the building and the land at about ninety-five thousand. The land is expensive because it's become a prime location. But the actual amount would depend on the sale.'
'Either way, it’s probably a lot of money. At least for me.'
Definitely enough to make a healthy deposit for a house, or ... fund her return to university.
But it meant she would have to abandon her idea of developing a business around her favourite hobby. Such a difficult decision. She needed time to think it through.
'When do you need an answer?' she asked, her voice trembling.
'As soon as you can. I have to pay the tax by the end of March - six months after Auntie’s death. The sale would take time if you wanted to proceed with it.'
'I have to think about it. Can I let you know in the New Year? You won't be able to do much over the holiday season anyway,' Katie said. She could do some research, talk it through with Michelle. At least, she'd have time over the next couple of weeks.
'Okay, that should be fine,' Roy said slowly. 'But please, consider your options carefully. Unfortunately, I'm strapped for cash, too. So, I can’t shoulder the financial burden.'
Katie thanked Roy and disconnected.
What on Earth was she going to do?
She put a reminder on her phone to think about the next steps on Boxing Day. Otherwise, she might forget.
Her phone rang a little later - this time it was the courier service regarding Jack’s book. She rushed to Reception to collect the parcel. It was a smart idea to have it delivered to work. At least she knew she had collected it. Given she'd already cleared her desk, she also had time to think about adding a little personal note for Jack.
She had time, but not necessarily headspace.
What on Earth should she write?
She sat in her office, using whatever little willpower she had to collect her thoughts. He was so eloquent when he told her why he enjoyed spending time with her, but what did she feel about him?
Beside the hatching butterflies in her stomach, and the wobbly knees when he smiled at her, that is...
Katie chewed on her pen, seriously risking biting right through to the ink. Why did she like talking with him?
Although it was difficult, she was learning how to accept his different way of thinking. But it was also good, because it taught her to appreciate a different perspective and expanded her horizons.
His constant insistence on logic and evidence were infuriating, fair enough, but it also helped her develop her own abilities.
She might have felt inadequate in his presence, but it was her own interpretation, her own little internal voices. Yes, he might not have shared all he knew with her, because she was a civilian, but Jack treated her like an intellectual equal. So different from Barry.
For goodness’ sake, he'd come to seek her opinion on information he collected so many times. He even told her she'd make a good forensic profiler!
Jack made her feel appreciated, respected and encouraged to flourish.
Katie grabbed a piece of paper to scribble her thoughts down before the inspiration was gone.
When she put the severely damaged pen down, her phone pinged again with a message from Jack.
"Still dealing with the case. Should be finished by 5 pm. Can I pop in to your place for a traditional case wrap-up chat and a cup of tea?"
"Of course. Pizza and mince pies?"
"No. Just a cup of tea. I have to pick up my online Christmas shopping before they close. I'll bring the hammer, though.'
Oh, only a cup of tea. She pushed away the disappointment. They would be another opportunity, she'd make sure.
Ah, the hammer! She'd forgotten again. Good job someone had a decent memory.
28
Katie returned home with a mixture of relief that the case was resolved, sadness and sympathy for Erin, and anxious anticipation of a meeting with Jack, and everything else.
Everything else included mummy's guilt, Phyllis Dunbar's workshop dilemma and uncertainty over what she should put in her little card for Jack.
At least she still had a few hand-made Christmas cards at home. She chose one and sat to write a few lines.
"Dear Jack,
Merry Christmas! May the New Year bring you-" she wrote and paused. Her plan was to write "more joy and fewer murders", but to be honest, if it weren't for the investigations, they would never have met and worked together. Of course, she didn't want any more tragic deaths in her little community, but however good it sounded, she couldn't possibly write it.
What else then?
"...bring you even more joy in your personal and professional life."
Not super original, but true and optimistic.
She added the words to the lines on the card.
Now, for the hardest part – her personal thank you.
"Thank you for appreciating my intuitive "conclusion jumping", encouraging me to organise it and to expand my horizons. Our conversations inspired me to reach for this book, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I am.
I hope to talk to you about it soon :)"
She paused and re-read the wishes. It sounded too dry, too professional. She forgot about the fun factor!
"P.S. And, of course, I love chatting and laughing with you. Looking forward to more of it soon."
She put the full stop at the sentence and signed the card. It wasn't perfect, but it was genuine and as far as she was ready to go in revealing her feelings to a man.
The day dragged on, and as if it was not enough of a punishment, her head played with her. She was going over and over again through the events of this morning, jumping from "this was so obvious!" to "but what if I simply bullied her into admitting?' within the same thought.
On top of that, her recent conversation with Roy kept replaying in her mind, fuelling her guilt.
If today was anything to go by, her Christmas was looking to be filled with difficult decisions!
Once she’d picked up Julia from the last day of her holiday program, fed her and got her settled with the fir branches, glue and other items of interest, Katie retreated to the kitchen. It was time to put the kettle on.
The doorbell rang just as she poured boiling water into the teapot. The aroma of bergamot with a hint of lemon filled her nose.
'Coming,' Katie shouted, even though she knew the person at the door couldn’t have heard her.
She covered the pot and ran downstairs. When she opened the door, the cold, fresh air slapped her in the face.
'Hi Katie, how are you?' Jack greeted her in his deep, smooth baritone, which made her knees turn to cotton-candy.
She leant against the doorframe, taking in the view.
His cheek
s and the tip of his nose shone pink. His hair was ruffled. And his face bore the widest and happiest of smiles she'd ever seen.
'It's snowing - look!'
He turned around to point to the world behind his broad-shoulders, and Katie's gaze followed.
In the glare of the street lamp opposite her house, tiny sparkles danced and swirled in all their shiny glory.
'Whoah! It is!' Katie stretched her hand out. A few soft, cold spots landed on her skin. 'Not quite White Christmas, but a good start,' Katie said. 'Do come in before you freeze.' She moved aside to let him past.
Jack sneaked inside, his arm brushing against hers and sending a wave of warm prickles right up to her chest.
'I'd be fine,' he said, unzipping his dark winter jacket. 'Look what I've got underneath.' The jacket slid off his shoulders, unveiling ... the dark blue jumper they'd given him for his birthday.
'Poor Jack, did you have to stay out in the cold?'
'No, it's casual Friday, remember?'
She chuckled. 'It's been such a crazy day for me, I forgot all about it. But it’s a nice touch, Mr Big City Inspector,' she said and beckoned him to follow her upstairs. 'I've got a pot of freshly brewed Earl Grey tea, and there are still some mince pies left.'
'Tea would be great,' he replied, rubbing his hands.
'Are you sure you don't want a tiny mince pie? You've done an awful lot of work today, we need to celebrate!'
'Maybe a tiny one, and only if you have one, too,' he replied, a hesitant smile stretching his gorgeous lips. 'They're hard to resist. I suspect you might have put something addictive in there.'
Katie turned on her heels and headed for the worktop, hoping he didn't see her cheeks flushing. 'Nothing illegal,' she rushed to add. 'Just a bit of sugar and spice and everything nice.'
Well, she would have added a love potion if she'd known how to make one.
He laughed. 'Good because I would hate to have to report you for anything. I bet it's the last ingredient.'
She lowered her head. Her cheeks were burning - what a silly thing! She was a grown woman! 'So, what's the update on the case?' Katie asked, taking two small plates from the shelf.
'As you know, Erin has admitted to tampering with the attic hatch. She did it by herself. No accomplices. Although, I did have another chat with the ex-boyfriend and our lovely doctor after the morning message from you.'
'Interesting,' Katie said and looked over her shoulder at him. A cheeky smile played on his lips. 'Following on a hunch or a piece of evidence, Inspector?'
He snorted. 'A hunch, supported by an interesting coincidence, which suddenly took on a different meaning.'
'Gee, I love your convoluted logic,' Katie replied, chuckling. 'What do you mean?'
'Their tickets. You know, they both had an alibi for the weekend when Archie Blackburn died. And I asked them to provide the evidence to support it. Strangely enough, they came back from London on the same train and never mentioned it.'
'Not until you asked, I bet,' she said, looking straight into his beautiful, deep blue eyes.
'That's right,' he replied, holding her gaze in a way that made her knees turn to water. She leaned against the counter.
'Did you check the passenger list for the flight to Lisbon as well?'
'I did, Ms Amateur PI.'
'Let me guess, Jason and Jackie were sitting next to each other?'
'Indeed.' He sighed. 'People... You can't trust them.'
Katie groaned theatrically. 'Not again,' she said and crossed her arms. 'Who else has lied to you?'
'I haven't caught anyone else in a lie yet,' he paused, holding his index finger in the air, no doubt for dramatic effect, 'but I wouldn't be surprised if we found a few fibs in your friend's ex-husband’s story.'
'Ric?'
'Yes. I'd love to know who really was the originator of the invitation to that unfortunate birthday party.'
Katie chewed on her lip. 'Maybe it was about the darn treasure after all. I can't wait for someone to knock down that darned ruin.'
'We've put a warning notice on the fence. I bet it'll further add to the beauty of the view for your workshop.'
Katie's heart flipped. She waved her hands as if trying to dispel the wave of uncertainty squeezing her chest. 'Ah, let's not talk about that. Not today,' she said.
Jack's face tensed. 'Anything wrong?' he asked, watching her closely.
Katie turned back to face the kitchen counter again.
Not now.
'There is an issue with the inheritance tax,' she said and gave him a brief summary of her conversation with Roy. 'But I don't want to talk about it now.'
'As you wish,' he replied, a note of concern in his voice. 'But please let me know if I can help with anything.'
'Thank you, I'll be fine,' she said quickly, keen to change the subject. She crossed to the pantry. 'Where is Erin now?'
'In Carlisle, in the remand cells, waiting for her court hearing.'
'What's going to happen to her?'
'It's up to the judge to decide.'
Katie put the plate with the pies on the worktop. Her hands were trembling. 'Do you think she'll go to jail?' Katie asked, trying to ignore the lump growing in her throat.
'Most definitely. Even though she regrets it now, and you can see the emotional element in her actions, after all, what she did was planned with a clear intention to kill.'
'Is there enough evidence?'
'Yes, and a confession. Why are you asking?'
'I'm ... worried I might have bullied her into the confession,' Katie replied, trying to keep her voice steady. Her heart was galloping, but at least she managed to express the doubt, which had been playing on her mind since the morning.
'Don't worry! Of course, there is enough evidence.'
Jack’s chair screeched on the floor.
The next thing she felt was Jack's hand on her shoulder. It was heavy and warm. 'Even if you hadn't had that chat with her, I would have had enough evidence to arrest her. The car rental and the coin with her fingerprint on it required further investigations. You just beat me to it.'
Katie inhaled slowly, letting the warmth spread and fill her tight chest. 'Now, my head cooled down, I'm beginning-'
'To doubt your actions?'
'Yes. It was a bit crazy what I did.'
'A little crazy, agreed. Probably in the same range of crazy as your other "let's-get-them-to-talk" activities,' he said, still resting his hand on her shoulder.
It was way past the usual "collegial support" time limit. The warm tingling wave continued to spread throughout her body. A few more seconds and her knees would melt. She couldn't afford that!
'Oh, I'm such a bad hostess,' Katie said and gave a nervous laugh. 'I should have put the tea and pies on the table.' She forced herself to move away from his reassuring touch.
'And I should have offered help,' he said quickly. 'I'll take the teapot and the mugs, okay?'
'Thank you,' she replied, finally completing the suddenly so complicated operation of transferring mince pies onto the plates.
'I was going to ask, weren't you scared Erin might hurt you?' he carried on, arranging the tea set on the table.
'No. I actually felt safe with her. Unlike with some of the previous killers I challenged, I wasn't worried for my safety with Erin. Deep down, she’s a good person. I know her. She might have had a dark moment when she did what she did, but I don't think she could harm anyone else.'
'Human nature, huh?'
'Exactly. People don't change much. Remember?' she asked and glanced at him.
He lifted his head and smiled at her. 'I do remember. That was a very interesting conversation and, although I agree with you in principle, I also think your arranged confession was a gamble. She could have simply stormed out.'
'Or she might not have come at all,' Katie added, putting the plates with the Christmas treats on the table at last.
'Uhm ... they look as delicious as yesterday,' Jack said looking at the pies a
nd sliding back onto the chair. 'But going back to your point, she did come. What made you think she would come?'
Katie looked away, thinking back to these adrenaline-fuelled moments that morning.
'To be honest, I haven't quite identified my logic behind it. Yet,' she added promptly. 'It was an impulse. I had a strong conviction it must have been Erin who did it. She ticked all the boxes. She knew about the old friend and the job. She was more than aware of her father's compulsions. Obviously, she would know how to set up such a trap.
'The only missing element was the motive. I couldn't see why she would have done it. Erin is not a violent person. She's calm and quiet. She's helpful, always keen to be there for others. Her being a murderer didn't fit. I knew she used to hate her father, but it was understandable. When my parents divorced...' Katie paused and cleared her throat to get rid of the tingling. 'When my parents divorced, I was angry with them.'
'I see,' he nodded, reaching for the pie on his plate. 'To be honest, this aspect of the case had been a challenge for me, too. The motive was difficult to pin down. In fact, the legendary treasure supposedly hidden by Tony Marino was the only thing which made sense.'
'Yet there was no evidence Archie found it. And if it wasn't found, why kill someone who could have still been useful? Oh, I'm sorry for being so blunt,' she rushed to add.
'You're right,' he said and bit into the pie. 'This is where I got stuck as well.'
'So, going back to the list of motives, those four "Ls".' Katie paused to cast her mind back. 'Obviously, it was loathing.'
'Yes,' he exclaimed. 'I've almost forgotten. Speaking of motives, as my ulterior motive for coming here, I've brought a little gift for you.' He reached for his briefcase.
'Sorry, I haven't had the time to make a card, but I did wrap it,' he said, handing her a neatly wrapped parcel. 'Merry Christmas, Katie!'
Katie grabbed a tea towel, suddenly aware of her sweaty palms. 'I have something for you, too,' she said and reached up to the shelf above her head. 'Merry Christmas, Jack, and thank you for all those interesting conversations. And to many more to come,' she said, handing him the book wrapped in a green-and-red tissue paper. He reached for it and his fingers brushed against her knuckles, sending a wave of tingling up her forearm.