On Deadly Tides

by Elizabeth J Duncan

  As the uniformed officers disappeared inside the cottage and Bethan hovered near the front door, Penny pulled the blanket tighter around her and sank down in the car seat. Lights came on in the sitting room, and a few minutes later, in the upstairs rooms. Watching the glow of warm, beckoning light spread throughout her home, knowing that police officers were moving from room to room, comforted and reassured her. And then the officers emerged from the cottage and spoke to Bethan. A few minutes later, she returned to the car and climbed in beside Penny.

  “The back door was open, as you thought,” Bethan said. “I’ll bring you in now, and we’ll go through the house together.”

  “Harrison?” Penny asked. “Did they see him?”

  “Sorry, no. All this commotion could have frightened him, and he might be hiding outside. Does he often stay out all night?”

  “Never. I let him out, he comes back, and then we go up to bed together. Only tonight—well, you know what happened tonight.”

  “He could have a found a safe spot somewhere in the house. Under the sofa, maybe, and he’ll come out when he’s ready and not a minute sooner. You know what cats are like. But don’t worry; we’ll find him.”

  When they reached the front door Bethan pulled on a pair of gloves. “Take a deep breath. You can do this in your own time, and in fact, if you’d rather not do it tonight, you don’t have to. We can come back tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “In situations like this, it’s best to stay with someone else for the night, for two reasons. One, a home invasion is traumatic and you should not be alone; and two, because your cottage is now a crime scene, I’ve ordered a forensic sweep, and you need to be out of the way until the team has wrapped up. So you’ve got two choices. You can come home with me, or you can stay with Victoria.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” Penny replied immediately. “There’s no point in disturbing Victoria at this time of night. Or morning, I guess it is.” She took a deep breath and steadied her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with. I’m okay to take a look around, and in fact I want to. We might find Harrison, and knowing he’s safe would put my mind at ease.”

  “I’ll be right beside you. Remember, don’t touch anything.”

  They entered the cottage and walked through the downstairs rooms. After discovering that nothing looked disturbed, and searching everywhere a frightened cat might be hiding, Bethan indicated they should head upstairs.

  In her bedroom, Penny glanced at her unmade bed, the top sheet and light bedspread arranged just as she’d left them. When Penny indicated her bureau, Bethan nudged out the top drawer, using the sides and bottom. She withdrew a red box and opened it. She tipped it toward Penny to show her that the diamond snowflake brooch was safe, and further inspection revealed that Penny’s best earrings were there, too.

  “Those are really the only pieces I’ve got that are of any value, and I presume anyone looking for something to steal would have known their worth.”

  “Okay. If you’d like to get dressed now and pack an overnight bag, I can either remain here with you or wait downstairs.”

  “Stay here with me, please. I’m starting to feel a bit shaky. I see now what you mean when you say it’s a good idea to stop somewhere else with a friend for the rest of the night.”

  Penny slipped on a pair of comfortable trousers, a polo top, and a cozy jumper, then packed a few toiletries and a clean night dress in a carryall.

  After instructing the police officers, who would remain on scene until morning, to keep an eye out for Harrison, Penny and Bethan departed.

  “What do you make of it?” Penny asked as they drove along the darkened lane toward the sleeping town.

  “Because your phone and jewellery were not taken, and because of the isolated location of your cottage, this isn’t the work of opportunistic thieves who just happened to be prowling around the neighbourhood, noticed the back door was open, and decided to help themselves to whatever they could find.”

  “What do you think they were looking for?”

  Bethan covered her mouth as she stifled a yawn. The sky had lightened to a deep lavender-grey, indicating that dawn was about an hour away.

  “It’s likely that they were after you or Louise, and given what happened at the hotel, my money’s on Louise,” said Bethan.

  “Or what if this wasn’t about Louise herself? What if it’s about something she had that somebody wanted?”

  Although her eyes remained on the road ahead, Bethan’s shoulders turned slightly toward Penny. “What do you mean?”

  “Jessica’s suitcase. Louise has Jessica’s suitcase.”

  “If it’s the suitcase they were after, then that makes sense of the drugging at the hotel. Did anyone at the hotel know she was staying with you?”

  “Yes. I told Sarah Spencer when I asked her to tell the hotel staff to allow me access to Louise’s hotel room.”

  “And she would have been able to access the hotel reservation system to get your home address.”

  “That’s right, she would have.” Penny was silent for a moment and then added, “and Bill Ward has my address, too. It was on the form when I registered for his painting course.”

  The rain had started up again, and Bethan switched on the windscreen wipers. The only sound for the rest of the journey was the mechanical rhythm of their swishing back and forth.

  Chapter Thirty

  Penny spent what remained of the night tossing and turning in the hard, narrow bed in Bethan’s spare room, and when she got up, she discovered Bethan had already gone to work, leaving a house key with a note on the kitchen table, advising Penny to make herself at home and to please be sure to lock the door when she went out.

  Fair enough, after what happened last night, thought Penny.

  After a quick shower, she decided to seek breakfast elsewhere, and set off through the town for the rectory. As she passed the cricket ground, the morning mist skimming the trees was dissipating, and after the rain of the night before, the sodden ground gave off a rich, loamy smell of earth. Clouds were gathering over the hills, however, with the promise of more rain on the way.

  She knocked on the bright blue door of the rectory. Bronwyn greeted her warmly, and after ushering Penny into the kitchen, cheerfully added another egg to the pan, popped two more slices of bread into the toaster, and poured another cup of coffee.

  When Louise, Bronwyn, and the rector were all seated around the table, Penny described the events of the night before.

  “Thank heavens Louise was here with us,” the rector said when she’d finished. “The police rang us at eight o’clock this morning to ask if everything was all right, but they didn’t give us any details, so I thought it was just a routine check, in light of what had happened to Louise earlier at the hotel in Beaumaris, and I was happy to report that all was well.” He gave Louise a reassuring smile. “So Penny, if nothing was stolen from your cottage, and it wasn’t a robbery, do the police have any idea what the intruders were after?”

  Penny dropped a dollop of marmalade on her toast.

  “Because my phone and the two pieces of jewellery I have that are of any value weren’t taken, Bethan doesn’t think these were opportunistic thieves who just happened to be passing.”

  “So in other words, your cottage was targeted,” said the rector.

  “Yes, but if that’s the case, I don’t think the intruder or intruders meant any harm to Louise or me.”

  Bronwyn leveled a steady gaze at her over the rim of her coffee cup.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because my bed was unmade. You know what a bed looks like when someone gets out of it in the night. The covers are thrown back in a careless way. So whoever the intruder was, they knew that my bed had recently been slept in. And if it was me they were after, they would have looked everywhere for me, including the bathroom.

  “The bed in the spare room was made up, so they knew that room was unoccupied. And a spare room has a different
look than a bedroom that’s used every day. It’s neater, more austere. No personal bits and pieces lying about. So they would have known Louise wasn’t staying at the cottage. They checked the spare room first, and then they went into my room, so they must have been looking for something.”

  “So what were they after then?”

  “I think they were after Jessica’s suitcase. And what’s more, I think that’s what they wanted when Louise was drugged at the hotel, although it’s possible that because she had been asking questions about Jessica, they may have wanted to silence her, too.” When Louise protested that the police had said there was nothing in the suitcase but her daughter’s clothes and other personal items and essentials, Penny replied, “Yes, but if that’s what the intruder was after, they don’t know that, do they? They don’t know what’s in the suitcase, but they want to find out.”

  Everyone mulled that over, and then Penny asked where the suitcase was now.

  “It’s upstairs in my room. What do you think we should do about it? Should I hand it back to the police for safekeeping?”

  “No. We don’t have to do anything about it. Bethan knows you have it, and she knows where you are, so if the police want it back for some reason, they’ll ask for it.”

  Breakfast finished, Bronwyn left to parade Robbie through the town on his morning walk, and the rector retreated to his study, ostensibly to work on the Sunday sermon. Penny and Louise had insisted on being allowed to tidy up the kitchen, and as Louise stacked the cutlery and dishes in the dishwasher, Penny gazed out the window to the path that ran parallel to the River Conwy. After a few moments, the rector drifted into view. He looked furtively up and down in both directions, and then withdrew a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. Penny gestured to Louise to join her at the window.

  “What is it?” Louise asked. “What am I looking at?”

  Penny pointed to the figure walking along the path. “It’s the rector. He’s been trying for years to quit smoking, but he just can’t, and we’re all in on the conspiracy. He pretends he doesn’t enjoy the occasional cigarette, and the rest of us pretend we don’t know he does it.”

  “What about his wife? Does she know he smokes?”

  “Of course she does. Her only rule is that he can’t smoke in front of Robbie.”

  Louise let out a fruity chuckle. “Is she afraid Robbie will learn from his bad example and take up smoking?”

  “No. She just doesn’t want her darling boy exposed to second-hand smoke.”

  “Quite right.” Her face fell. “Jessica hated cigarette smoke.” She dabbed at her eyes with the corner of the tea towel draped over her shoulder. “Everything reminds me of her. It flashed through my mind just then how she would have loved the story about the rector’s secret smoking, and then in the next second I remembered that she isn’t here and that we’ll never again share a laugh over something silly like that.” She let out a little sob, and Penny reached out and folded her into a comforting hug.

  Just as she released her, Robbie raced into the kitchen, his toenails clacking on the slate floor. He ran to his food bowl, then turned expectantly to the doorway. After hanging up his lead and slipping out of her cardigan in the hallway, an out-of-breath Bronwyn followed him into the kitchen.

  “You weren’t gone very long,” said Penny. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”

  “No,” Bronwyn said. “We cut our walk short and hurried home. You’ll be so relieved when you hear what I’ve got to tell you. We just bumped into Mrs. Lloyd, and she heard on the radio that the missing group has been found. They’re safe! They were interviewed on the telly breakfast program, and Mrs. Lloyd even caught a glimpse of your Colin. She said he’s got a beard; they all do.” She burst out laughing. “Well, not the women, of course. Conditions weren’t that bad. And they’ve all lost some weight.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” exclaimed Penny. “That they’ve been found, not that they’ve lost weight.” Her eyes widened and she let out a light puff of breath as she gripped the back of a chair and leaned on it. “Did the news report say what happened?”

  “Apparently, the scientists and all their equipment were in several canoes, paddling their way to a remote site, and they got into some choppy water, and one of the boats capsized. A lot of their equipment was lost or damaged. They still had a mobile phone, but the problem was, they weren’t sure where they were. They managed to find a signal and contact the police, and the rescuers eventually located them, and everyone is okay.”

  Penny and Louise exchanged a happy glance, and Penny remarked, “That’s brilliant!”

  “You must be so relieved,” said Louise. “I’m so glad it ended well. For him and for you. For everybody.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.”

  Penny’s phone pinged, indicating a text message. She glanced at the name of the sender, then with an “Excuse me,” she stepped away and turned her back to the room. When she turned around, her eyes were shining, partly with excitement, partly with unshed tears, and mostly with the sense of joy that was flooding her body. “He’s fine. He’ll be here in a few days. He’ll let me know when he’s firmed up his flight.”

  Bronwyn clapped her hands together. “Well, there couldn’t be better news, and all’s well that ends well. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I must find Thomas to tell him the good news, and then I’m off to the church to make a start on sorting clothes for the jumble sale.” She looked hopefully from one woman to the other. “Do I have any volunteers this morning? The infants and children’s clothing are always such a mess and half of it needs washing. You’d be surprised at the state of some of it.”

  “I’d like to earn my keep,” said Louise, “so I’m happy to help.”

  “I should drop into the police station to see where things stand with the break-in,” said Penny, “and how long before they think it’s safe for me to return home. And I’m desperate to know if Harrison turned up. I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  “Of course,” said Bronwyn. “You have more important things to see to.”

  “What if I call back after lunch? I thought I’d go to the Oriel Snowdonia in Betws this afternoon, and perhaps Louise would like to come with me? Give her an opportunity to see more of our beautiful countryside, and I always find an art gallery the perfect place to spend the afternoon when the weather’s a bit dreary.”

  “Yes, I’d like that very much. If Bronwyn can spare me, that is.”

  “Of course I can.”

  “And if it’s all right with you, Louise, I thought I’d ask my friend Alwynne Gwilt if she’s free to join us. She was with me on the painting weekend, and while I don’t think she met Jessica, and I’m not sure if she can tell you anything, I thought you might like to meet her, just because she was there.”

  “Oh yes, I’d like that very much.”

  * * *

  “The police have wrapped up their forensics examination of my cottage,” Penny said as she, Louise, and Alwynne walked to the bus stop under an overcast sky. The wind was picking up, and the darkening sky threatened to bring an afternoon full of rain. “Bethan’s confident that the intruder won’t be back, so I can go home today, if I want to.”

  “And do you want to?” asked Alwynne.

  “Yes, I do. I’d like to make sure everything’s all right, and be there when Harrison turns up.”

  “I mean, are you feeling apprehensive or uneasy about it?”

  “A little, maybe. I felt uneasy last night when we checked to see if anything was missing, but with this weather closing in, it’s my dear little cat I’m worried about. I hope he’s all right. We don’t know where he is or what happened to him. But I don’t feel comfortable going home on my own, so Victoria’s going to drive me home later and come in with me. Bethan said sometimes the full impact of what happened doesn’t hit people until they return home.”

  “I can understand that. The very thought of a stranger roaming about
your home, touching your things, is appalling. Makes your skin crawl.”

  “Yes, it does. But the police offered victim support services, and I’ve got good friends seeing me through this, so in that, I’m very fortunate.”

  The bus dropped them at the gallery, and after a short walk up a tree-lined lane, they reached the front door. “When we’ve finished looking at the artwork,” said Penny, “they’ve got a rather nice café where we can have some tea and cake, if we want it.”

  “Let’s see what happens,” said Louise. “If the rain sets in, we may want to wait it out, but if it’s still on its way, we may want to try to get home in time to beat it.”

  They entered the first gallery and circled the room, admiring the work of an emerging artist whose paintings captured the spirit and feel of rural communities. As they were about to cross the main entranceway to explore galleries on the other side of the building, Cilla McKee emerged from the hallway that led to her office.

  She and Penny greeted each other, and Penny introduced her to Alwynne, as a member of her painting group, and to Louise, without mentioning her relationship to Jessica, simply explaining that she was a visitor from New Zealand.

  “Oh, please be sure to sign our guest book,” said Cilla. “We get the occasional visitor from Australia, but New Zealanders are rare birds in these parts.”

  “Rare kiwi birds,” said Louise.

  “Exactly.” Cilla gave her a professional smile and then focused her attention on Penny. “Now, if I could just have a quick word. I was going to ring you, but since you’re here, if you wouldn’t mind, I have something to ask you.”

  “No, of course I don’t mind. How can I help?”

  “It’s just that we want the gallery to do more community involvement activities that we feel could create good publicity for us and hopefully be of benefit to local artists, too. I know about your artist’s group in Llanelen, and I wondered if you’d be interested in being part of our new initiative. Would you ask your group if any of the artists would consider donating a painting for an auction next winter to raise money for a good cause? It’s a creative arts group for children that encourages and supports youthful involvement in music, art, dance, writing—all those lovely things that don’t get the same attention as sport does.”