by JL Simpson
“I thought I could go to the café across the street, and grab some sandwiches.”
Solomon nodded. “Right. And when you get back, we’ll review what we know.” He put his hand in his pocket, and tugged out a twenty-pound note. “Lunch is on me.”
Daisy took the money, and smiled. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For not using Nobby to kick me to the curb, and for thinking Paul is the perfect husband.”
“Is he not?”
Daisy sighed. “He has his moments.”
Solomon gave a lopsided grin. “Do these moments involved blue sextoys?”
“I don’t know why I bother. You always have to spoil things, don’t you?”
Without another word, she left the office and slammed the door behind her.
*
Solomon scratched his head. He hated to admit it, but Daisy had a point. He did say the dumbest things, when she got all sappy with him. They’d come a long way since Paul forced them to work together. Rather than treating him as a mortal enemy, she tried her hardest to make a friend of him. With Molly in the picture, he needed all the help he could get, and besides, she was the only one who knew the truth about his relationship to Paul. If he wanted to keep Paul in his life, he needed Daisy on side. He vowed to be more careful in future.
He tugged the stand out and placed it in the middle of the room, and then set up the whiteboard. A search of his desk scored him three different color markers and the eraser.
Starting with the blue pen, he jotted down on the left hand side all of the facts they knew, and on the right, in red, all the players in the case to date. Daisy arrived back, as he was considering how little information they had to go on.
She tossed a white bag on his desk. “Cheese and pickle.”
He forced a smile. “Thanks.”
“Don’t you like cheese and pickle?”
“I love cheese and pickle.” He pointed to his lists. “We’ve not got a lot of clues.”
Daisy pulled her sandwich from its wrapper and took a bite, before crossing to the whiteboard. She lifted the blue marker, and started adding information while she munched on her sandwich.
He sat at her desk and ate his lunch, as she slowly filled up the board with things that were new to him.
She glanced in his direction. “Okay, so this is what we’ve got. Something was smuggled in from Poland. Chester Mars, A.K.A. Leo Thompson, used to travel to Europe a lot with Candy’s dogs.”
“And someone wanted Poppy’s dad to take Maxfield Mayfair to Poland. So we’ve got Chester, probably Candy, and Poppy’s dad all involved in something dodgy, and at some point Lisa’s boyfriend Sean had the goods.”
Daisy frowned. “Remember Molly said Lisa had a dog?”
Solomon smiled. “Stupid Bastard. I remember.”
“What if it was a standard poodle, and the dog was what everyone was looking for?”
“Dog smuggling?”
Daisy shrugged. “The dogs have got something to do with it. Do you think the dog they had was Candy Mars’s missing dog, Johnny?”
“The one you’ve been looking for?”
“I think Mr. Randall might know something.”
“Randall with the shotgun?”
“He gave me a hint that Cliff was really Evan. He knew about Maxfield Mayfair going missing with Evan, and that Poppy’s dad has some bad habits.”
“Could be common knowledge in dog breeding circles.”
Daisy nodded. “But if we find Johnny, we might get lucky and discover what was being smuggled.”
“We’ve not considered the Poles who are after Nobby.”
“Nobby says she doesn’t know what Chester was into. Do you think that was the Poles shooting at us last night?”
“I doubt it. If they were intent on stopping us, they’d not be firing blanks.”
“Blanks? If they weren’t the Poles who were they?”
“I’ve yet to work that out.”
Solomon scrunched up his paper lunch bag, and tossed it in the bin. “I need to speak to Dan, and then I think you and I will have another chat with Mr. Randall and Candy Mars.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Daisy climbed out of the SUV, tugged her jacket straight, and pulled up her collar. A slow drizzle had set in, and the wind whipped across the open ground. Her skintight jeans were already damp, and given a few more minutes standing outside, her knickers would probably end up the same.
She shivered as she waited for Solomon to lock the car, and then fell in step beside him. His long black leather coat flapped around his legs.
Daisy shrugged, and kept her head low, in a vain attempt to preserve body heat. “I’ll introduce you. How are we going to play this?”
He glanced down at her. “I’m concerned for your safety, now it’s come to light Chester was killed.”
“And what will I do?”
“Try and look scared.”
Daisy frowned. “How do I do that?”
Solomon’s lips curled up in a lopsided smile. “Imagine you’re sitting down to eat a meal you’ve just cooked.”
“That’s not funny.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Neither is your cooking, Princess.”
Solomon swung the gate open, and she shoved past him and stomped up the front drive. So what if she couldn’t cook? Paul loved her for her other attributes.
She made it as far as the porch, but Solomon grabbed her arm, halting her attempt to ring the bell. “Sorry, darlin’.”
“For?” She turned and met his gaze.
“For being an arse. I don’t mean to upset you.”
“What do you mean to do, then?”
He sighed. “Remember when you were at primary school? If a boy liked you, he probably punched you in the arm, pulled your hair, and teased you endlessly to hide his feelings.”
Daisy stared at him. Her stomach felt like it sunk to her knees. Dear God, if he was about to say he loved her, she was going to run. Surely she wasn’t his mystery ‘one’ woman. Was she? Was that what Nobby hinted at earlier? Solomon had taken a lot of liberties at the restaurant.
Before he could continue, she grabbed hold of his hand, squeezed gently, and smiled up at him. “I’m flattered—I really am—but before either one of us says something we regret, and ruin what we have, I think we best let sleeping dogs lie. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, you imagine feelings that aren’t real. You’ve been under a lot of pressure with Molly, and everything else going on in your life. A few stolen kisses are bound to send mixed messages. I love working with you, but we’re friends. Or maybe more. We’re related, so you already have me in a way, but not in that way.”
He frowned. “Do you think I’m hitting on you?”
She frowned back. “Weren’t you?”
“Not at all. What I said before obviously came out all wrong.” Solomon grinned. “I’m not saying I’m in love with you, Daisy. I’m saying I like you.” He scrubbed his hand over his damp hair. “I’m as surprised by that revelation as you probably are, and I’m having some issues sorting out how to deal with it.”
“You like me?” She let out a sigh of relief.
“Aye. You’ve grown on me, like a wart.”
“This is how you treat a girl you like?”
He shrugged. “I’m trying.”
“Well if you want to get lucky with a girl, you’ll have to try a lot harder. I can only imagine you have other talents, to entice women to sleep with you, because from where I’m standing, your ability to put your feelings into words needs some work. Fortunately, we’re only ever going to be friends, so I can put up with your weirdness and rude comments.”
“Says the woman who makes noises like she’s having an orgasm, when she’s eating chocolate cake.”
“Why does everything come back to sex with you?”
“I’m a man. Sex takes up a lot of my thinking time.”
“I didn’t need to know that.” She stared up at him. “Are you thinking
about it now?”
He raised an eyebrow, and she let go of his hand to rub her palms on her wet jacket, before turning to face the door. “I don’t want to know. As long as your weird fantasies don’t include me, you can keep them to yourself.”
“And if they do include you?”
She pressed the button for the front door bell, and glared over her shoulder at him. “Then they better be fantasies about me kneeing you in the bollocks.”
His breath tickled the back of her neck, as his chuckle sounded in her ear. She preferred it when they hated each other. This was getting too weird to handle. Maybe she could piss him off before the end of the day, and get Mr. Grumpy-Pants back.
When no one responded to the door bell, she pressed her nose to the glass panel. “That’s odd.”
“What’s odd?”
“Last time I came to see Candy, the doorbell set the dogs off. It was like arriving at Battersea dog’s home.”
“How many dogs does she have?”
“I didn’t count, but there was a pack of them roaming the house and the garden.”
“Maybe they’re outside in a shed or something.”
Daisy glanced up at him. “Should we go around the back, and check?”
He nodded. “We should, but stick close to me.”
“Do you think something has happened to Candy and the dogs?”
“I’m not taking any chances. Whoever killed Chester probably had the same idea we did, and decided his mother was the next best target.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“Mine was confiscated by the Police, darlin’. Do you not remember?”
“You’ve got another one.”
“Do I, now?”
“It was on the dresser in your bedroom, when we talked to Mavis.”
“That it was, and now it’s locked in my study, at home. If someone jumps us, I’ll have to use my martial-arts skills.”
“What martial-arts skills?”
“Can you not imagine me as Bruce Lee?”
“You need to make up your mind. Are you a Ninja or a black belt in Kung Fu?”
“It won’t matter what I am, if they’ve got a gun.”
Solomon led the way around the side of the house, and Daisy kept in tight behind him. If they were going to be shot at, then she preferred they aim at Solomon. Her heart raced. The last time he told her to stay behind him, they had to dive for cover when a car exploded. He’d saved her life. When he stopped at the corner, she bumped into him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “Do you want to wait in the car?”
Daisy shook her head. “I’m fine, but if anyone starts shooting, I’m not hanging around to save your sorry arse.”
“Duly noted. I’ll have to save my own arse.”
He edged a little further along the house. “It looks all clear. No sign of any dogs or crazy gunmen.”
When he disappeared around the corner, Daisy followed. He was busy looking through the French doors that opened into the kitchen. Only a few days ago, Daisy had sat on the other side, eating scones.
“Can you see anything?”
He blew out a breath. “You’d best not look.”
Daisy stepped up beside him, and peered in the window. “Oh, God.”
Candy sat upright at the kitchen table, staring at them. Well, what was left of her face stared at them. The world started to spin, and Daisy’s stomach heaved. She turned her head and doubled over, before hurling her lunch into the flower garden.
Solomon pulled her hair back from her face, and passed her a handkerchief. “I told you not to look, Princess. Now you’ve contaminated a crime scene, and left behind a clue.”
She dabbed at her mouth, and fought back tears. Candy might have been involved in something illegal, but she’d been a sweet old lady. Nobby had spoken about her with real affection. No one deserved to have their head blown off. Daisy had failed her. Candy had hired her to find Johnny, and if Daisy had done her job, she might well still be alive.
“Who’s going to tell Nobby?” she asked.
“Nobby?”
“Candy was like a mother to her. Now she’s lost Chester and Candy. Poor Nobby.” A tear slid down her cheek, and Solomon shook his head before pulling her tight against him. He stroked her back, and whispered soft, soothing words into her ear. She pulled away, fighting to get her emotions under control. After wiping her tears with his hanky, she shoved it in her pocket. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“Not just yet. I want to take a look around a bit first. Do you want to stay here and wait for me?”
Daisy shook her head. “I can help. What are we looking for?”
“I’m not seeing any dogs.”
“Do you think the person who shot Candy killed the dogs?”
Solomon shrugged. “Won’t know until we find them.”
A large shed stood at the back of the property. “That could be the kennels. I’ll go and look for them. What are you going to do?”
“Best you don’t know.”
“Is it legal?”
“Go and look for the dogs, Princess. Call me if you find anything.”
.
Chapter Forty
Solomon watched Daisy stride down the path, before turning his attention to the French doors. He tried the handle. The cold metal didn’t budge. He pulled his lock picks from his inside coat pocket. Candy clearly had no security concerns, but then with all the dogs around the place, she probably figured she was safe. He finessed the lock, and it popped open. After a quick glance over his shoulder, to ensure Daisy was still on her way down the garden, he shoved the door open and stepped inside.
The warm air was tainted with the metallic tang of blood and the sour scent of death. Solomon was careful to avoid treading in the blood and gore, as he took a closer look at the body. The police would be willing to accept he tried the door, when they found his fingerprints on the handle, but would be less willing to believe he broke in to check if Candy was still alive, when half her face was missing.
A large drop of blood oozed off Candy’s chin, to join a growing stain on the front of her t-shirt. A tooth, dislodged from her top jaw, rolled down her soft corpulent body and hit the floor with a dull thud. Pictures of long gone events and dead faces crowded his mind. With a roll of his shoulders, he forced the memories back, and turned his focus to the rest of the room. Shotgun pellets were pebble-dashed into the soft peach wall that had become a canvas for murder. Macabre modern art, daubed with blood red, and splattered with grey brain matter.
Candy’s body was encased in shiny blue trackpants and a cream T-shirt. He checked her hands and face for scratches. There were no signs of a struggle. A half-finished cup of tea sat on the table in front of her.
Solomon dipped a finger in the drink. Still warm. Candy couldn’t have been dead for long. He shuddered at the thought of them arriving half an hour earlier, and walking into the middle of the murder. Anyone who could blow someone’s head off at close range would have no problem killing two witnesses.
He crossed to the kitchen. A clean cup and saucer sat on the drainer. Not only did they kill the poor woman, they drank tea with her first. Clearly she knew the killer, or at least their accomplice.
He glanced at a corkboard, filled with pictures. Chester took pride of place in the center, younger, thinner, and smiling like he was king of the world, but undeniably the man Solomon found dead in the middle of Lisa’s bed. The board was crowded with memories, rosettes from dog shows, photos of silver cups, and lots of happy smiling faces. A five-inch square left of center was empty. Everything else overlapped, as each item vied for space. Something was missing.
Movement outside the window caught his attention. Daisy was on her way back to the house. Head down, shoulders hunched against the rain, she jogged as fast as she could in her ridiculously high heeled boots. When she got closer, she came to a stop. No doubt she’d seen the open back door, but had yet to notice he was in the kitchen.
> With his coat sleeve wrapped around his fist, Solomon banged on the window. Daisy turned in his direction, and frowned. He waved her toward the house, and moved to meet her at the back door. “Did you find the dogs?”
She shook her head. “No. The door of the kennels is wide open, and the heater is still on, but there’s no sign of them. What are you doing?”
“I need you to come and look at something.”
Daisy glanced into the room, and shuddered. “You want me to come in there?”
“Don’t look at the body, if it makes you squeamish.”
“What do you mean ‘if?’ No normal person could look at poor Candy, and not feel sick. Doesn’t it make you feel sick?”
“Not really, but then I’ve seen dead bodies before.”
“Ones with half their faces missing?” Daisy swallowed loudly, and batted her eyelids in a valiant bid to keep it together.
God save him, if she started to cry. He’d been where she stood. Innocent, horrified, and ready to have a meltdown as he barely clung to control. The difference was an emotional response would have gotten him killed. He’d quickly learned to shut it down, and move on. He’d done what needed to be done, and left the shock and grief for a time when he had the luxury to deal with it.
“Daisy?”
She stared up at him. Her green eyes looked huge in her unnaturally pale face.
“Can I have a hug?”
Solomon pulled her into his body. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and snuggled close. He held her tight, breathing in her flowery scent. When she shuddered, he kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. After a couple of minutes, she pulled free. Her color hadn’t improved, but she no longer appeared to be on the verge of tears.
“Better?”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
He offered her his hand. “Can you come and look at something with me?”
When her fingers curled around his palm, he gave her a squeeze and led her inside, mindful to block as much of the horror with his body as he could.
“You said you worked out Leo was Chester, because you saw his picture when you last visited.”
“I did.”