by Morgana Best
“You must’ve been hungry,” I said.
“I haven’t eaten for ages,” he said. “Well, snacks, but not a decent meal.”
I nodded, not knowing what else to say. The waiter appeared and handed us dessert menus. “Excuse me for saying so, sir, but are you Ethan’s brother?”
“You know Ethan?”
The waiter nodded. “He’s buying the car dealership from my sister-in-law’s family. Do you happen to know where he is? He was supposed to sign the papers yesterday.”
Owen’s face turned red. “No, I never know what my brother’s doing from one minute to the next.” He took my menu from me and handed both his and mine back to the waiter. “I never have dessert,” he said tersely.
“Sorry about that,” he added when the waiter left.
I nodded politely. I had been looking forward to dessert. I thought Owen rather overbearing, even rude. I wondered why he had invited me to lunch. Surely it wasn’t just to comment on my poor choice of career path.
He did, mercifully, order coffee, and I followed suit.
“How long have your aunts lived at Mugwort Manor?” he asked me.
I shrugged. “The family’s lived there for ages. It’s the ancestral home,” I said. “I only wish the ancestors had kept it in a better state of repair.”
“Did your family have much to do with the Ichor family?” He leaned forward and once again his eyes glittered.
“I don’t have a clue,” I said.
“Is Lucas O’Callaghan a friend of your aunts?”
“No, not at all,” I said, starting to think this was more like a police interrogation than a date. “They met him only moments after I met him for the first time—you know, right before the body fell through the roof. I don’t think they like him.”
I immediately regretted my off-the-cuff remark. “Why would you say that?” he asked, his eyes strangely glittering once more.
“They just don’t like men in general. They’ve never been married, and they’re elderly. They always make disparaging remarks about men.”
“Like what?”
Yes, definitely an interrogation. “Just that no one needs a man, that type of thing.” I crossed my arms over my chest, but just then the coffee arrived. “Why are you asking me so many questions?” I asked him when the waiter left.
He laughed. “I’m so sorry. I can’t seem to stop being a cop. Please forgive me.” He smiled at me winningly, only I wasn’t won over, because he had refused dessert on my behalf. I certainly hoped he didn’t ask me out again, but I had prepared a good reason in advance if he did.
“How do you feel about vampires and werewolves?”
“Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure I had heard him properly.
“I just bought a funny spoof documentary on vampires and werewolves,” he said. “It was made in New Zealand. I’ve heard it’s good, so I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place some time and see it.”
I bit my lip and tried not to shudder at the thought of going to Owen’s house alone. “I don’t like that sort of thing. I only like romantic comedies. That would give me nightmares.”
A child at a nearby table shrieked. I jumped, but Owen didn’t react. “So what do you know about the other guests staying with your aunts?”
“Oh, it’s the twenty questions again, is it?” I said, keeping my tone light.
He simply smiled and didn’t speak.
I decided to answer. It was better than talking about watching a movie at his house. “As far as I know, they haven’t stayed at Mugwort Manor before, and my aunts haven’t ever met them. Do you know, the detectives came over earlier and said they had already taken material from the roof and the tree, and they found dog hair.” I was trying to turn the conversation away from possible future dates.
“Oh, really?” I could see he was doing his best to look surprised, but he would never win an Oscar.
“Yes, really.” I wondered why he hadn’t told me that he already knew about the dog hair. “That means that the murderer owns a dog, or has had close contact with a dog.”
“It seems so.” He spun his coffee cup around and looked into it for a moment. “Do your aunts have a pet dog?”
“No, they’re cat ladies. I’ve never known them to have a pet dog, but there’s always been at least one cat hanging around them. And before you ask, it’s a pet friendly establishment, but none of the guests have any pets with them at the moment. Do you think that’s strange?”
He seemed taken aback by my question. “What’s strange?”
“That no one at the Bed and Breakfast has a pet dog, and my aunts don’t have a pet dog, but there was dog hair on the roof. Either that, or in the tree.”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t find that strange at all. It just means that it’s unlikely one of the guests staying with your aunts is the murderer.”
“But you do think the murder’s connected with Lucas O’Callaghan, don’t you?”
“That would seem to make sense, but that’s not my job; it’s the detectives’ job.”
That didn’t add up. “But when you came over to Mugwort Manor this morning, you said that you were looking into it for yourself.”
He smiled again. “I just made that up. I wanted to ask you to lunch, and I didn’t know how to bring the subject up.” He did his best impression of looking shy.
I forced a smile. “I’ve enjoyed having lunch with you, but I promised my aunts I wouldn’t date for the first six months of my time here. I promised them I’d concentrate on the business. I’m already in trouble for agreeing to have lunch with you.”
He looked disappointed, and I judged that as genuine. But why? Was it simply disappointment that he couldn’t question me at length? It seemed to me that the sergeant did have his own agenda for investigating this murder case.
We didn’t speak after that, and a heavy, awkward silence fell over the table. Finally, I was saved when his phone vibrated. He said it was work and he had to leave at once, but for all I knew, it could’ve been his mother calling. I wasn’t complaining—at least I had time to myself to drink my coffee in peace.
This certainly was a strange town, if you counted my aunts, the sergeant, and Lucas O’Callaghan. And then there were the guests, Paul and Linda Williams, who looked like vampires from an old black-and-white movie, and Marius Jones with his anger management issues.
I had left my car on the other side of town, because I had mistaken this restaurant for another. When I realised my mistake, I had decided to leave the car there and walk. I was used to walking long distances in Sydney, and didn’t want to get out of the habit, and besides, I didn’t know if I’d find parking easily outside this restaurant. On my walk back to my car, I saw Paul and Linda Williams in the butcher’s.
I had to smile. I bet they’re ordering a cup of blood each, I thought unkindly.
I walked along the street, looking in each window with interest. This was a tourist town, and since it was the beginning of summer, the place was bursting with tourists. There were plenty of cafés, and several interesting little gift shops. I saw to my delight there was a store with crystals and what looked like witchy supplies. I would have to return later and have a good look through it. I wanted to get back to the car in a hurry because a thunderstorm was imminent. The sky had been bright when I was heading to the restaurant, but now was black and threatening. I didn’t want to get caught in a thunderstorm and get drenched.
I walked a little further, and was surprised to see Marius patting a large hairy dog. It looked like an Irish Wolfhound, but I couldn’t be sure given that I had never seen one in the flesh. I stopped to say hello. “That’s a beautiful dog,” I said to the owner.
Marius agreed. “I pat him daily. I go for a walk this time every day. I miss my dog—he’s with my wife at the moment. My ex-wife,” he added pointedly. “That…” He uttered a string of nouns and adjectives that made me blush.
I smiled tightly and walked on, but one thing was on my mind.
Marius’s shirt had dog hair all over it. The dog hair was flying off him so easily that I even thought I might sneeze. If Marius patted that dog every day, then he could well be the murderer.
Chapter 11
The lunch had been brief, and my aunts weren’t expecting me back for an hour or so. Thunderstorm or not, I decided to drive to the lighthouse after which the town was named. I didn’t intend to stay there long, but I wanted to see something of the town before I went back to the house and tackled the website.
As a child, I had been fascinated by the lighthouse, with its whale-watching area and the plaques telling of the shipwrecks on the rocks below.
I drove on for several minutes before I realised I had missed the turnoff to the lighthouse. I turned the car around. That was easier said than done. This was Aunt Dorothy’s car, an old FJ Holden. It had probably been quite something in its day, but that was some years ago. It didn’t have power steering and it was like driving a truck. My three-point turn descended into something like a fifteen-point turn on the narrow road, but finally I had the car pointed in the right direction.
I hadn’t gone but a short distance when I heard a strange sound and felt a vibration. “Flat tyre!” I said to nobody in particular. I pulled the car off the road, and got out. Sure enough, one of the back tyres was as flat as a pancake, so flat it was sitting on the rim. I went to the back of the car and looked through the boot for a spare tyre, but then the rain began in earnest. Tiny little pieces of hail stung me, beating viciously against my face. The weather had suddenly turned icy cold, quite a contrast from the earlier pleasant warm morning. I moved things around, trying to reach for the spare. It didn’t want to come, so I pulled it as hard as I could with both hands. Suddenly, it came away and I fell backwards into a puddle, the tyre on top of me.
From my position on the ground, I heard a car coming up behind me, and thought that I should’ve turned on my car’s hazard lights. It was a pale coloured car and the rain would camouflage it to some degree. Luckily, the car behind me pulled over. I was surprised to see Lucas get out of it.
I struggled to my feet, letting the tyre fall onto the wet road. Lucas hurried over to me. “Flat tyre?”
I nodded, my teeth chattering. “Go and sit in the car, and I’ll change it for you.”
“Oh, um, you don’t have to do that,” I stuttered. He waved my concerns away, and then ripped off his leather jacket. “You’re cold. Get in the car and I’ll change the tyre.” He threw his jacket over my shoulders.
I thanked him and hurried to the car. I sat there, in my passenger seat, huddling into the warmth of his leather jacket. It smelt like him, like rosemary and open log fires—and danger. My right eye twitched.
He tapped on the window and I jumped. I opened the door a little, mortified to see that he was completely drenched. “The spare tyre is flat, too,” he said.
“Flat?” I echoed.
He nodded. “Yes, just as flat as the other tyre. Come on, I’ll give you a lift back to Mugwort Manor.”
I jumped out of my car and followed him to his hire car, the silver Porsche. “I’m sorry to drip water all over your car,” I said. “Thanks so much for stopping to help me. I hope it’s not out of your way to take me back home.”
He started the engine and then shot a sideward glance at me. “That’s where I’m headed, anyway. The Ambrosia Winery is back down that road. This is the road I take to travel between Mugwort Manor and the winery.”
“Oh.” I had a horrible thought. What if he thought I had deliberately punctured both tyres just to get a lift home with him? I was mortified.
I moved away from him, against the door, and didn’t say another word until he pulled up on the road next to the flagstone pathway to the manor. I handed back his jacket and thanked him once more. “I’m so sorry you got wet. Thanks again,” I said, and without waiting for him to say anything, I hurried up the flagstone path.
I rang the doorbell, and stood there shivering when I sensed movement behind me. I spun around to see Lucas. I hadn’t even heard him approach. He handed my purse to me. “You forgot this.”
I was worried that he thought I did it deliberately, to cause more contact between us. “Thanks.”
Just then, Aunt Dorothy opened the door. “What happened? You two are drenched. Come in.”
I hadn’t expected Lucas to go inside, but he did.
“We have the fire going in the kitchen, because it’s so cold all of a sudden,” Dorothy said. “Come and warm yourself, Mr O’Callaghan.”
I was surprised that Lucas agreed. “Now don’t slip,” Aunt Agnes said. “A handyman came earlier and used an extension ladder to tie plastic over the stained glass skylight, but it still leaked a little in the storm. We had to put all those plastic buckets under it.”
The two of us followed Aunt Dorothy to the kitchen and stood in front of the fire. Aunt Maude took one look at us, left the room, and returned with two huge fluffy white towels.
Aunt Agnes was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping from a teacup. “How did you two get so wet?”
“I wanted to drive to the lighthouse, but I missed the turn. When I realised I’d missed the turn, I turned around, but then I got a flat. I pulled over but I had trouble getting the other tyre out. Then Mr O’Callaghan came along and found the spare tyre was just as flat as the first tyre. He gave me a lift home.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Aunt Agnes said to Lucas.
Aunt Dorothy had turned on the coffee pot, and now was pouring two cups of coffee. She pulled chairs over to the fire for us and then handed us each a cup of coffee. Aunt Maude took the towels and hurried off in the direction of the laundry.
“I thought you were having lunch with Sergeant Carteron?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
I don’t know why I felt guilty, but I did. Lucas showed no reaction. And why would he? It wasn’t as if we were dating. I just had a simple silly little crush on him, that was all, and it’s a wonder that I did, given his previous rudeness to me. Still, today he had been nothing but gentlemanly.
“He left early, a work matter, and since our lunch was brief, I thought I’d just pop out and have a look at the lighthouse,” I explained.
“Did you get any information out of him?” Aunt Maude asked me.
I was worried that she asked in front of Lucas, but Aunt Agnes didn’t rebuke her, so I figured it was all right to answer. “No, not really. He just asked a lot of questions about the three of you.”
“What did he ask?” Aunt Agnes was suddenly alert.
“Just whether you’d ever had any dogs as pets, and how long you’d been living here, that sort of thing. He also asked if the guests had any pet dogs.”
Aunt Dorothy tapped her chin. “Just the same as the detectives asked us.”
I nodded. “He said the reason he was here this morning asking questions was simply a ruse to ask me out for lunch, but that, in turn, was simply another ruse.”
Lucas spoke for the first time. “Why would you say that?”
“Well, he obviously only asked me to lunch to ask me a lot of questions,” I said. “Clearly he had his own agenda.”
Lucas smirked.
“What do you find so funny about that?” I said, somewhat snappily.
Lucas waved his hand, gesturing up and down me. “Look at you! A man asked you on a date, and you think he had an ulterior motive. I don’t think so.”
I shifted in my seat, and avoided looking at him. Was that a compliment? For once, I was struck speechless.
Silence descended over the room for a moment, broken when Aunt Maude offered everyone a piece of carrot cake. “Was that all he asked?” she said once everyone had a piece of cake, a silver cake fork, and a delicate bone china plate.
“Yes, just questions like that, about the case.” My voice trailed away.
“Did he ask any other questions? Anything at all?” Aunt Agnes asked.
“No, not really.” I tried to recall. “Oh yes, he did ask how I felt about vampir
es.”
“How you felt about vampires?” Lucas said, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh yes, and werewolves.”
“Why would he ask such a thing?” Aunt Maude asked, but I saw Agnes shoot her a look, and she stopped speaking.
I shrugged. “Because he said he’d just bought a funny movie about vampires and werewolves, and he wanted me to go to his house to watch it sometime.”
“What did you say?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
“I declined. I said that I only liked romantic comedies.”
“Quite so,” Aunt Agnes said firmly. “I can’t bear to watch The Walking Dead.”
“There are no vampires or werewolves in The Walking Dead,” Maude said. “They’re zombies.”
“No, they’re not,” Dorothy said. “They’re not called zombies.”
“Doesn’t matter what they’re called,” Maude snapped at her. “Call them what you will, they’re still zombies.”
Lucas leaned forward, and spoke in such a low tone that I had to edge closer to hear his words. “I don’t want to scare you, but please don’t take any risks. I just can’t shake off the feeling that you’re in danger.”
I shivered. “Do you mean I’m in danger, or my aunts are?”
Lucas shot a look at my aunts, but I could still hear them bickering behind me. “Possibly all of you, but you especially.”
“Why? Why me?”
Lucas shook his head. “Just make sure you keep all the doors and windows locked. And don’t date that sergeant again.”
“It’s none of your business who I date or don’t date,” I said angrily, but he ignored me, stood up and thanked my aunts for their hospitality.
Aunt Agnes pushed her chair back and made to stand, but clutched her lower back. “Thank you for bringing Valkyrie home safely.”
“My pleasure.” He nodded to me and took his leave out the back door.
I stood up. “I’d better have a warm shower and get changed.”
“Good idea,” Aunt Agnes said, “and then meet us back here in the kitchen. We need to increase the protection around the house. Before you go, what did that man whisper to you when he thought we weren’t listening?”