by Adele Abbott
“I will. And you can say it. I wouldn’t blame you.”
“Say what?”
“That you told me so. You said it was a bad idea for me to come clean with Jen.”
“It’s too late to worry about that now. That particular horse has already bolted. Just make sure you get the blog shut down as soon as you can.”
“Will do. Thanks again, Jill.”
***
As I was on my way back to the house, Megan Lovemore pulled onto her driveway.
“Hi, Megan.”
“Oh, hi, Jill.” She seemed strangely subdued, and barely managed a smile.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I think I could be coming down with a cold, though.”
That might explain the unusual attire. Megan usually favoured T-shirts and shorts, but today she was wearing jeans with a polo neck top.
“I hope you feel better soon.”
The house was looking spotless. Our new cleaner, Agatha Crustie, had been around earlier in the day. It still stuck in my craw that I was paying someone else to use magic to clean the house when I could have done that myself, at no cost. But how would I ever have explained it away to Jack?
My phone rang. It was Kathy.
“What a day I’ve had.” She sounded exhausted.
“I hear the Chameleon Wool launch was a success.”
“That’s an understatement. We’ve taken a small fortune today, and I’m absolutely shattered.”
“Just think about the bonus that Grandma will be giving you.”
“Fat chance of that. The reason I called was because I wanted to tell you about Lizzie.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s great. You remember I told you about the ‘best friend’ essay?”
“Did you manage to persuade her to write about another one of her friends?”
“No, but as it turned out, I needn’t have worried. Everyone loved her story. The teacher gave her full marks, and said her writing showed an active imagination. Better still, all the kids want to be her friend now. They all want to know more about Caroline.”
“That’s great, Kathy. I’m so pleased for her. Give her a ‘well done’ kiss from me.”
“Will do. Now, I’m going to go upstairs to sleep for a week.”
Jack arrived home just in time for us to have dinner together.
“How’s the fish and chip case coming along?” I grinned.
“No more of your stupid puns, please. I had enough of those this morning.”
“Okay. I’ll fry my best.” I broke down in tears of laughter.
Jack huffed and puffed, and then went upstairs to get changed. When I’d eventually managed to compose myself, I went to find him.
“Have you done with all the fish jokes?” he asked.
“Yes. No more, I promise.”
“If you must know, I’ve been taken off the fish and chip case. I spent most of the day trying to help my colleagues at Washbridge police station.”
“Leo Riley?”
“No, thank goodness. One of the detectives I used to work with asked me to check West Chippings’ missing persons file. It seems that there are three unidentified coma victims in Washbridge Hospital. They thought one of them might be on our missing persons list.”
“Were they?”
“No. I checked their photographs against our files, and there were no matches.”
“Isn’t that kind of weird? Three unidentified coma victims, I mean?”
“Very. According to Tom, the guy I was trying to help, the patients were admitted over a period of three months. No one knows what happened to them, or even who they are. It appears that all three were found collapsed in the street.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“We? As in West Chipping? We won’t be doing anything. It isn’t our case. I don’t suppose there’s much the Washbridge guys can do either, unless they find a match on a missing persons list somewhere else in the country. Their only other hope is that the patients regain consciousness.”
“I have some news, too. Mrs Rollo is moving out.”
“Why?”
“She said that she wants to live next-door to someone who will appreciate her baking.”
“She’ll be searching for a long time, then. Are you serious? Is she really leaving?”
“Yeah. She’s going to Australia with Marco for six months at least. She’s going to rent out the house.”
“I have some big news too.”
“It doesn’t relate to caravans, does it?”
“It’s my parents’ golden wedding anniversary next week, and we’re all invited to the party.”
“All?”
“You, me, Kathy, Peter and the kids, plus all of your birth family.”
“Next week? It’s a bit short notice, isn’t it?”
“Mum had insisted she didn’t want a big do, but then she changed her mind at the last minute. It’ll be great, won’t it?”
“Great, yeah.”
Oh bum!
Chapter 7
The next morning, Jack was still super excited about the golden wedding anniversary party.
“I can’t wait for you to meet my parents.”
“Me neither.”
To be fair, that meeting was long overdue. Jack and I had been together for well over a year. It wasn’t like we hadn’t been invited up there before, but each time there had been some reason why I wasn’t able to make it. This time, there could be no excuses. You only got to celebrate your golden wedding once, and Jack would never forgive me if I tried to wheedle my way out of it. My main concern was that my birth family were also invited. Aunt Lucy, Lester and the twins should be okay, but what about Grandma?
“You are going to invite your birth family, aren’t you?” Jack must have been reading my mind. “Mum will be disappointed if they don’t all come.”
“Of course.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
He glanced at my hands.
“What?”
“I was just checking you didn’t have your fingers crossed.”
“It’s nice to know you trust me.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” I volunteered. Anything to escape the third degree.
It was Mrs Rollo; she was holding a cakebox.
“I’m sorry to call around so early, Jill, but my taxi will be here in a few minutes.”
“You’re leaving already?”
“Yes. I’m booked on the early train.”
“Come in.” I led the way through to the kitchen. “Jack, Mrs Rollo has come to say goodbye.”
“We’re both sorry to see you leave,” Jack said.
“I’m sorry to go. You two have been wonderful neighbours.”
“Let me take that,” I offered.
“I wanted to bake you a ‘farewell’ cake.” She passed me the box. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“I’m sure we will,” Jack said. “We’ve enjoyed everything you’ve baked for us.”
He was such an accomplished liar.
“Take care you two.” She gave each of us a hug. “The letting agent tells me that they’ve already rented out my house. You should have new neighbours in the next few days. Anyway, I’d better run, or I’ll miss my train.”
We saw her to the door, and waved her off.
“I’ll miss her,” Jack said, after she’d gone.
“We’ve enjoyed everything you’ve baked for us.” I mocked. “You’re such a hypocrite.”
“I was just being nice.”
“I’ll go and throw this in the bin, shall I?” I picked up the box.
“Wait! You can’t do that. It’s her ‘farewell’ cake.”
“It will be farewell for us, if we eat it.”
“We should at least try one piece each. What harm can it do?”
“You eat the first slice. If you survive, then I’ll have some.”
“Okay. We�
��ll eat it tonight after dinner.”
“Are you sure? Don’t you even want to take a look at it before committing?” I reached for the box lid.
“No.” Jack grabbed my hand. “Let’s not look until we’re ready to eat it.”
That sounded like a dangerously insane strategy.
***
All of the bottle tops had been removed from the windows of the toll booth. Mr Ivers wasn’t on duty today; it was an older man with a tattoo of a stapler on his forehead.
“Morning.” I handed over the payment. “What happened to the bottle tops?”
“I took them down. I couldn’t see a thing through the windows. And if that nutter, Ivers, puts them back up, he’ll have me to answer to.”
“Right.” And then curiosity got the better of me. “Can I ask, why do you have a tattoo of a stapler on your forehead?”
“The tattoo artist couldn’t draw a hole punch.”
Huh? “I see. Okay, thanks.”
I drove past Ever on my way into the office. There was already a long queue outside, waiting for the shop to open. It looked as though Kathy had another busy day ahead of her, as Chameleon Wool continued to sell like hot cakes. Maybe I should try to come up with some magic-based product that I could sell to humans. It had to be more lucrative than the P.I. business. But if I did, what were the chances that I’d get away with it like Grandma? Slim to none, I’d wager. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past Grandma to dob me into the rogue retrievers.
It was Jules’ day off, so Mrs V had both desks to herself.
“I thought I’d sit at this one in the morning,” she said. “It gets the sun. Then, this afternoon, I’ll move to that one.”
“I can see you’ve given this some serious thought. Are you and Jules okay together now?”
“Yes, it’s going to work just fine. It’s nice to have someone to discuss yarn projects with. I had hoped that you might develop an interest, but that’s never going to happen, is it?”
“Sorry to be such a disappointment. I see you’re using the Chameleon Wool.”
“Yes.” Mrs V held up the multi-coloured scarf she was knitting. “It makes life so much easier. I just have to be careful that I don’t have any colour mishaps.”
“How do you mean?”
“I was half way through the red section when I must have nudged the ball of wool, which came to rest against my green handbag. I’d knitted three rows of emerald green before I realised what had happened.”
“I can see how that could be problematic.”
“Apparently, if you squeeze the ball of wool very hard, it’s meant to ‘lock’ the current colour so it won’t inadvertently change, but I don’t seem to have the knack.”
“You should report it to Kathy. It sounds like a design flaw to me.”
Kathy was going to love me for that. Snigger.
Winky had his head stuck inside another brochure. At first, I assumed he was drooling over cars again, but it turned out that this one was for luxury watches.
“Which one do you prefer?” He pointed to three different timepieces.
“Have you seen the prices?” I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Money is no object.”
“You don’t still believe that you’re going to win the lottery, do you?”
“I don’t believe. I know.”
“Have you been consulting Madam Winkesca?”
“Let’s just say that I had a premonition.”
Poor, deluded fool. He was going to be so disappointed.
I had planned to visit Wash Point, to take a look at the stretch of river where Brendan Bowlings usually fished, but it had started to rain, and I didn’t fancy the prospect of trudging through mud in my heels.
Mrs V walked into my office, and closed the door behind her. “Jill, did you hear about the man who died in the industrial freezer?”
“I saw the article in The Bugle.”
“The man’s widow is here. She’d like to see you.”
“What’s her name?”
“Mrs Rice.”
“Ice? How very unfortunate, given what happened to—”
“Not Ice. Rrrrrice.” Mrs V Made a point of rolling the ‘R’.
“Oh, right, okay. You’d better show her in.”
“She’s very upset, so I told her to take two scarves.”
“Very considerate.”
“Do have a seat, Mrs Rice. My condolences on your loss.”
“Thank you. Please call me Amy.” Her mascara had run down her right cheek, but I felt it best not to mention it.
“How can I help you, today?”
“I want you to find my husband’s murderer.”
“I understood that his death had been a tragic accident.”
“That’s exactly what they want you to think.”
“They?”
“Whoever murdered him, of course.”
“If you believe it was murder, you really should be talking to the police.”
“Don’t you think I already have? I spoke to some chap named Riley. The man is a waste of space. He insists that Douglas’ death was an accident.”
“But you don’t believe that?”
“I know it wasn’t. Douglas was the most cautious man I’ve ever known. He used to drive me crazy. He always double and triple checked every door was locked. He checked the tyre pressures on his car every other day. He would never cross a road unless the light was on green—even if there wasn’t a car to be seen for miles. He took zero risks—particularly when it came to his work.”
“Accidents can happen even to the most careful of us.”
“Not to Douglas. This was foul play, and I want you to find out what really happened. How much will it cost me?”
I told her my daily rate, and she didn’t so much as blink.
“That’s fine.”
“Plus expenses, and I do ask for a small retainer.”
“That’s okay. How quickly can you get started?”
“Pretty much straight away.”
“Excellent.”
Amy Rice filled me in with details of the small cold storage business that was owned and run by her husband, and his twin brothers, Gordon and Jordan.
“Would you like a photograph of Doug?”
“Yes please.”
She took out her phone. “This is the most recent photo I have; Doug is the one in the centre. I took it on the day the brothers celebrated that the business had been running for forty years—it was started by their father.”
The photograph had been taken in front of Rice Cold Storage.
“His brothers really are identical, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Gordon is the one in T-shirt and jeans. Doug wasn’t very thrilled when Gordon turned up wearing those. He wanted them all to wear suits for the photo, which he intended to give to The Bugle. He thought the story would give them a bit of free publicity.”
“Did they fall out about that?”
“Not really. Doug was annoyed, but not surprised. Gordon never wears anything else. It doesn’t matter whether he’s at work or going out for the evening. It’s always a black T-shirt and blue jeans.”
“Could you let me have a copy of this photo?”
“Yes. I’ll email it to you.”
We talked for a few more minutes, and I promised I’d get back to her as soon as I’d finished my initial investigations.
“Me too,” Winky said, once Amy Rice had left.
“You too, what?”
“I wasn’t talking to you. I was just telling Lenny that I’m hungry, too.”
“I suppose that means you want me to feed you?”
“Do you have salmon?” He knew that I did because he’d seen me bring some in earlier that morning.
“I do. Is that for both of you?”
Winky turned to his left. “Salmon, Lenny?” He grinned. “Obviously.” Then he turned back to me. “Lenny would like salmon too. Red, not pink.”
This was starting to get expensive. It
was bad enough having to buy salmon for Winky, but now I was shelling out for his ghost friend, too. It was a good thing I had a few paying cases. I’d need the money they generated just to keep pace with the salmon bill.
***
I wanted to talk to Kathy about the golden wedding anniversary party, so I nipped down to Ever. I should have known better—the shop was still chock-a-block with people wanting to buy the new Chameleon Wool. Kathy and Chloe were run off their feet behind the counter; there was no way I was going to get to talk to her.
“Have you decided to buy some Chameleon Wool?” Grandma had sneaked up behind me. She was wearing a bathing costume and purple sun-glasses, and had obviously just come down from the sun terrace.
“You made me jump. No, I just wanted a quick word with Kathy.”
“That’s not possible. Can’t you see she’s run off her feet?”
“It looks as though they both are. Why don’t you give them a hand?”
“Me?” She cackled at the idea. “I’m management. I’m too busy strategizing to be customer-facing.”
“On the roof terrace? In your bathing costume?”
“You’re getting in the way. If you aren’t here to make a purchase, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Will you tell Kathy I came in, and ask her to give me a call?”
“If I remember.”
I fought my way back out of the shop, and took a deep breath.
That woman drove me crazy!
After that encounter, I needed a coffee and a blueberry muffin, so I popped my head in the door of Coffee Triangle, just to make sure that the giant triangles had all been removed. Only when I was sure that the coast was clear, did I venture inside.
What? Of course I wasn’t afraid of the giant triangles. They just took up a lot of room.
As I munched on the deliciousness that was the blueberry muffin, my mind wandered to the anniversary party. Could I really unleash Grandma on Jack’s parents? The prospect terrified me, but I could think of no way around it.