by K E O'Connor
“Could this tourist have injured Edward, then Edward dragged himself into the theme park where he died?” Laura suggested.
“No. From what Selina said about the cause of death, it was a single blow and would have been instantly fatal. Once you sever the zombie’s brain stem, they die. No crawling allowed.”
The diner door opened. Abigail walked in, her usually bouncy blonde hair flat around her head and a glum expression on her face. “I’ll have the largest, most calorie laden muffin you’ve got, Laura.” She slumped onto the stool next to me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Man trouble,” she said.
“Are you seeing someone new?” Maybe she’d already got a date with Archer. I didn’t feel jealous. Archer wasn’t for me.
“No, well, there is someone. It’s complicated. He’s a nice guy, but I’m not sure about him. He’s really keen on me, though. I don’t want to hurt his feelings by dumping him too soon.”
“Who is it?” Laura cut straight to the important question as she placed a delicious looking triple chocolate muffin in front of Abigail.
I eyed the muffin greedily and wondered if I should get one, too.
“You don’t know him,” Abigail said. “I don’t know him all that well, myself. He’s different from anyone I’ve ever dated before.”
“Different is sometimes good,” Laura said.
Abigail glanced at me and a frown tugged at her mouth. “He’s not rich. He works two jobs and still doesn’t make much money. I’m not sure I can handle dating poor.”
“Love isn’t all about money,” Laura said. “If he’s as great as you say he is, it won’t matter.”
“I don’t know. After being with Bert and some of my other boyfriends, I’m used to getting nice things and being taken to lovely restaurants. I’m not convinced love is enough. If someone can’t pay my bills, they’re not the person for me.”
“You’ve got the trial at the ice cream parlor coming up,” I said. “If that works out, it means you’ll make your own money. You can pay your own bills and then fall madly in love with this poor but amazing sounding guy.”
“Maybe I can do that.” Abigail pulled off a large chunk of muffin and ate it. “I am looking forward to having this job. It’ll be fun. That is if the park is still opening.” She looked over at me.
“Yes! It’s opening. It sounds as if Nick has found out who killed Edward,” I said.
“Really? Who did it?” Abigail asked.
“Nick arrested a tourist who was fighting with Edward just before he died,” I said.
Abigail let out a sigh. “That’s such a relief. I didn’t want to miss my first day at work. I’ve even purchased a new outfit. It’s pink to match the candyfloss I’ll sell.”
“Ah, well, I supply you with a uniform. It’s a black polo neck with the theme park logo on the front.”
“So, no pink top?” Abigail’s face became downcast again.
“Well, since it’s just a trial, you can wear pink to start with. You never know, the pink could catch on and I’ll make all staff wear pink shirts.” I imagined how happy the guys, and some of the girls, would be about that idea.
“Thanks, I think it’ll look lovely,” Abigail said with a smile. “What with this delicious muffin and chatting with the two of you, I feel so much better. Thanks, ladies.”
“Always glad to be of service,” Laura said. “You’re welcome here any time you need a chocolate fix or a chat.”
Abigail hopped from her stool, her half-eaten muffin in hand. She gave Laura some money. “I’d better go. I want to start house hunting. Now I’m going to stay, I need to find somewhere to store all my shoes.”
As Abigail open the door to the diner, Stool limped through and walked over to me.
“Hello, boy. What are you doing in here?”
“No doubt begging for scraps,” Laura said. “I saw him with his head in the trash just the other morning. If I didn’t know any better, I’d be certain Nick wasn’t feeding him properly.”
“It’s in his nature to hunt for food.” I scratched behind Stool’s ears. “I get the impression he didn’t have a great start in life. It’s most likely built into him to always be on the hunt for food, just in case his next meal doesn’t show up.”
“It could be that,” Laura said. “Or he could just have a greedy gene and a bottomless pit for a stomach. Stool, you can’t be in here. Not all the customers love a side order of fur with their coffee.”
Stool looked up at Laura and whined.
“I’ll take him with me. I can drop by the station,” I said.
“I’m sure he can find his own way back to the station.” Laura’s smile was wry.
“Maybe he can.” I stood, “but it’ll be nice to get him back there safely and make sure he doesn’t attempt any more forays into the trash.” It would also give me a perfect opportunity to ask Nick about the tourist he’d arrested.
“Let me know if you hear any news,” Laura said.
“Will do.” I wandered over to the station, Stool by my side, the heat sapping my energy. I shouldn’t have run to Laura’s diner. I hadn’t been able to get cool ever since that foolish burst of speed. Sweat covered my brow and dappled my top lip as I approached the station.
The inside of the building was pleasantly cool, all the windows were thrown open, and the door propped wide.
“I’m returning some lost property,” I said to Julia, who sat behind a reception desk, a fan angled on the back of her neck.
“I don’t know how that dog manages to sneak out all the time,” Julia said. “No one has come out the back office for over an hour. It’s as if he’s got a secret tunnel he uses every time he wants to get in and out.”
I laughed. “He’s certainly inventive enough to try that. Is Nick around? I’d better give Stool back to his owner.”
“Sure. Go through,” Julia said. “He’s in the back doing paperwork. And for once, he’s in a good mood.”
“Because of the tourist arrested for Edward’s murder?”
Julia shook her head and smiled. “Good news sure travels fast. Yes, he’s convinced this tourist’s involved. Eyewitnesses heard him threaten Edward, and several people saw the fight. They said the tourist was vicious, and they were convinced he’d do serious harm to Edward.”
“Then Edward turns up dead not long after.”
“That’s too much of a coincidence for me.”
“Me, too. I’ll drop Stool off and see what I can find out from Nick.” I grinned at Julia as I walked through to the office.
“One missing dog returned to his owner.” I spotted Nick making a mug of coffee.
He raised his eyebrows when he saw me and looked at Stool. “That dog’s unbelievable. I bet he only went out because we ran out of dog biscuits this morning.”
“You could be right. Laura said she spotted him rummaging around in the trash.”
“He got fed his breakfast!” Nick said. “Do you want a coffee?” He gestured to the mugs.
“No, it’s too hot for me. If you’ve got any ice cream, I’ll have that.”
“All out of ice cream and dog biscuits,” Nick said. “I need to go shopping. The cupboards are bare in the station and at home.”
Since Nick seemed cheerful, I decided to do a little digging. “I heard you’ve arrested someone for Edward’s murder.”
“Did you?” Nick asked. “And what exactly did you hear?”
“Only that it was a tourist.”
“That’s about it,” Nick said.
“Have you charged the tourist?”
“Not yet,” Nick said. “He’s not cooperating with the questions, but we’ve got eyewitness accounts. It’s an ongoing investigation, so I can’t say more than that.”
“Does that mean I can get access to the park?”
“Not yet,” Nick said. “I’ll let you know later if it’s okay to get things open again.”
“Can you give me a call as soon as you’ve made your mi
nd up?” I asked. “I’ve got so much to do at the park.”
“Why don’t we meet later?” Nick asked, his attention on his mug of coffee. “We can get something to eat. I could give you an update then.”
I opened my mouth, not sure what to say. “You mean, like a date?”
“No. Unless you want it to be a date,” Nick said.
“No! I mean, you don’t even like me. Why would we go on a date together?”
“Exactly, that’s not what I meant.” Nick stirred his drink rapidly. “I thought it would be good to catch up face-to-face. By this evening, I should know whether this tourist will be charged. Then I can let you know when you can open the park.”
“Oh, well, that would be okay. We both need to eat, after all,” I said.
“That’s right,” Nick said. “And as you might have gathered, I have no food at home, not even dried dog biscuits or ice cream. It would mean I won’t go hungry, either.”
“Well, if it means you don’t starve then of course, we can meet for something to eat.” I picked at a loose thread on the hem of my dress. This conversation felt weird. Nick was also being weird. I felt weird.
“How about seven o’clock at the Boat Shed Diner?” Nick asked. “I’ll meet you there.”
“I can do the Boat Shed,” I said.
“Okay. I’ll see you later for our not-a-date meeting,” Nick said with a smile.
“Sure, it’s not a date.” I turned and hurried out of the office, trying to figure out what had just happened. Not only had Nick been in a good mood, but he’d revealed information about the case and asked me out to dinner.
This day was full of surprises.
Chapter 9
I paced backward and forward outside the Boat Shed Diner, checking my watch. It wasn’t even seven o’clock, but I hadn’t been able to concentrate after Nick had asked me out. I found myself shutting the office as soon as I could and hurrying to the Boat Shed.
The butterflies spun in my stomach as if on a fast wash, and I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t spend much time alone with Nick. When we were alone, we usually argued.
Tonight felt different. What was I doing? A date with Nick Morton was madness.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” I looked up and saw Nick striding toward me, dressed in casual chinos and a white shirt. He looked good. I rarely saw him out of his uniform.
“No, I just got here,” I said. “Shall we go in?”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Nick said. “I’m starving. I didn’t have a chance to eat lunch today.”
“Too busy interrogating innocent people?” I asked.
“As usual.” Nick snorted with laughter.
We picked a table by the window, so we could take in the beautiful sea views.
I buried my head in the menu for a few minutes as I composed myself. This wasn’t a date. This was just two people who knew each other having a meal together. Nothing more than that. So why was my top lip sweating?
Nick cleared his throat. “Do you want wine?”
“Oh, I’m not much of a wine fan,” I said. “It gives me a headache.”
“A cocktail?” Nick asked.
“Cocktails? Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“No! I just don’t know what you like to drink.” Nick ran a hand through his dark hair. “I’m not all that into wine, myself.”
“I like cider,” I said.
“Me too,” Nick said with a relieved sigh. “Let’s get some cider.”
I nodded. Alcohol would be useful in this awkward situation.
“Do you know what you want to eat?” Nick asked.
“I’m ready to order,” I said.
Nick beckoned over the waiter. “I’ll have the cauliflower wings with curly fries.” He looked at me.
“I’ll have the curly fries, olive salad, and a side order of glazed baby carrots and green beans. And two local ciders.”
The waiter noted down our order before taking the menus and walking away.
“How did the questioning go with the tourist you’ve arrested?” I asked Nick.
“It was an interesting afternoon,” Nick said. “This guy, Lucas Pemberley, seems like a normal person when you first talk to him. He doesn’t deny arguing with Edward, and he also doesn’t deny getting into a fight with him. He admits that he’d had too much to drink and wasn’t used to the strength of the cider we serve around here. He also said he got out of control and overexcited. Apparently, he’s a huge fan of theme parks and spends all of his money and spare time traveling the world going on the rides.”
“Okay, so far, so kooky. But did he confess to killing Edward?”
“That’s a sticking point,” Nick said. “They fought, and I have witnesses to prove that. Lucas even confessed to threatening to kill Edward. That’s it.”
“What do you mean, that’s it?”
“Lucas was drunk, and although he was trying to hurt Edward, his punches mostly missed. He got a couple of good hits on Edward’s arms, and there are marks on Edward to show that’s what happened.”
“Does he have an alibi for the time of Edward’s murder?”
“That’s another sticking point,” Nick said. “He claims he was chatting online with a friend. We’re checking through his laptop to see if we can confirm that, but if it shows he was talking online, then it would make it difficult for him to have killed Edward.”
“But not impossible,” I said. “He might have messed with the computer’s records. Besides, who talks online for three hours?”
“I know a few people who have trouble keeping quiet. They like nothing more than gossiping for hours.” Nick raised his eyebrows at me. “Maybe Lucas likes to chat.”
I ignored his rudeness. “Lucas could have started the conversation, gone out and killed Edward, and then returned. Or, he pretended there was an Internet problem for twenty minutes whilst he went out and committed the murder.”
“All possible,” Nick said. “But none of it likely.”
“You aren’t ruling him out?”
“No, he’s still the prime suspect,” Nick said.
The waiter arrived with our ciders.
I took a couple of sips, enjoying the sharp, crisp apple taste. “Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you breaking a load of police rules by sharing information with an outsider?”
“Because you would have pestered me until I revealed it to you.” Nick grinned. “I figured that it’s time to make my life simpler and give into your relentless harassment. I’ll do anything for a quiet life, even if it means revealing confidential case information.”
“I don’t harass you. I’m simply interested in town affairs,” I said. “And I won’t be revealing any of this information if you tell me not to.”
“It’s fine.” Nick took a sip of his own cider. “This town is as leaky as a sieve. No matter what goes on in the police station, I can guarantee either Julia or Alex will reveal all the next time they get home or are at the bar of the Black Dog.”
“Is there any more news about Alex’s post?” Nick had been fighting to keep the funding for Alex’s job at the station, funding the Council had been threatening to cut not so long ago.
“No news is good news as far as I’m concerned,” Nick said. “Since I submitted all the reports they requested, and you took on the job as park manager, they’ve not mentioned it again. I’m hoping they’ve forgotten about it. And I need Alex to remain in post once the theme park opens. We’re going to be busy until we all settle into the new routine.”
“Well, that sounds positive. I’d hate for Alex to leave.”
“So would I,” Nick said. “Although, he loves to gossip, he’s a decent police officer.”
Our food arrived, and I dug into my dressed olive salad, the green leaves glistening with chili-infused oil and a spattering of tart lemon juice.
“You’ve discounted Danny as a suspect in this case?” I asked, after we’d been eating for a few seconds.
�
�He’s still a suspect,” Nick said. “His lack of an alibi and reluctance to talk about that evening worries me. He’s hiding something. I can tell when I talk to him. Something doesn’t add up about his story.”
“What’s he got to hide?” I asked. “Everybody knows Danny. I know his routine as well as he does. He loves his golf, he loves to run, and you can always find him on the beach when the surf’s good. He works at the theme park, so I know his rota there, too. I don’t see how it can be him.”
“I’d agree with you, but he’s nervous when I talk about the murder. I understand that he’s shaken up about finding Edward’s body, but it’s more than that. There’s something he’s not telling me. That’s why he’s staying on my list.”
“Only until you find out what he’s hiding?” I asked. “It might be something daft, like a secret addiction to Laura’s muffins. Danny’s in training for a marathon. Muffins won’t be on the diet plan. He could have been out buying illicit muffins at the time of the murder.”
“It’s a secret something, but it’s more serious than a cake addiction,” Nick said. “I’ll admit, this tourist, Lucas, might still be our guy. If the investigation of his laptop shows that he couldn’t have committed the murder, my focus will return to Danny.”
“What about Sebastian?”
Nick pointed his fork at me. “I know you’ve been to talk to him.”
I wasn’t going to apologize for that. I’d only been trying to help Nick. “Do you have spies everywhere?”
“Just about,” Nick said. “In this town, you need them.”
“So, you really think Sebastian could have done it?”
Nick sighed. “Honestly, no. Having spoken to him, he doesn’t seem capable of the attack.”
“And the rot on his legs?” I asked. “When I spoke with him, he could barely stand, let alone attack anybody. He might have the remnants of a human temper, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He’s not strong enough. In fact, I’m worried about his longevity. If the rot’s set in, it’s only a matter of time before he loses the ability to walk. Once he becomes immobile, he’ll fade quickly.”