by K C West
“Cop a feel,” PJ muttered, “and I’ll smack you.”
“Excuse me?” Constable Gardiner was young and pink-cheeked. He hadn’t taken his eyes off PJ since he was called in to “process” us, and I could see he was smitten. I couldn’t blame him because, despite her smudged face and dirty and torn commando suit, she was a lovely, sexy woman.
“Nothing,” she said.
After determining that we weren’t wanted for anything, they were eager to hear our story and prompt to order several constables to the Morrison estate. Once the flurry of activity over the murder report ended, we cooled our heels on the bench again, while the two constables conferred with a third member of their group, a young woman with reddish blonde hair.
Since we were cautioned not to talk to each other, we settled for some encouraging smiles and unobtrusive handholding.
The woman had a delightful Welsh lilt to her voice. Under different circumstances, I could imagine her swapping stories with us and hoisting a few pints at the local pub. Alas, we were far from such a casual scenario now. Even though her eyes hinted at friendliness, there was a firm set to her jaw and wariness in her posture. “Dr. Blair, Dr. Curtis,” she said, making eye contact as she addressed us, “I am Sergeant Blodwyn Jones. Constables Renfrew and Gardiner and I will take your official statements now.”
We both stood up. “We just did that,” PJ said.
Sergeant Jones smiled at her. “That was just preliminary, so if you, Dr. Curtis, will accompany me, please.”
PJ turned to me. She hadn’t expected us to be separated. Fear shone in her eyes, but only for an instant.
I touched her hand.
“It’ll be okay,” we said at the same time, then smiled. I watched them walk down a long hallway and disappear into a room at the end. PJ paused long enough to give me a parting glance before she stepped out of sight.
Mow that we were apart, I felt a rush of panic. The two constables ushered me into what could best be described as a cell, but was in fact an interrogation room, then excused themselves to join their partner in questioning PJ. I gave them a confident nod, but as soon as they left, I sank onto one of the hard wooden chairs at the table and cradled my head in my hands.
Oh, little one. What had I gotten us into?
How would PJ manage? It was three against one.
I rubbed my tired eyes and looked around the room. The furnishings were sparse; there was a scratched-up table and three other chairs, besides the one I occupied. The linoleum on the floor was cracked and faded. I assumed that PJ had been taken to a similar room, though maybe the Curtis name had merited better accommodations.
An hour passed before a middle-aged, dark-haired officer, wearing a somber gray suit, entered the room.
He pulled back a chair at the opposite end of the table and sat down. “Good morning, Dr. Blair. I’m Detective Chief Inspector Derek Mann.” He was soft-spoken and, so far, nonthreatening.
“I guess it is morning,” I said, in response to his greeting. The tiny barred window near the ceiling showed it was still dark.
DCI Mann set up a portable tape recorder. “Can I offer you a cup of tea before we get started?”
“Thank you, I’d like that.”
He left and returned moments later carrying a battered tray with a cup of tea, a tiny sugar bowl, cream pitcher, and - in the saucer - a slice of lemon.
I gave him a brief smile. “You British and your tea. Do you treat all your criminals so well?”
He smiled back. “You’re not accused of anything yet, though breaking and entering is a crime, one that we cannot overlook.” He paused and waited for me to add cream to my tea and take a sip.
“I know who you are, Dr. Blair, and I know who Dr. Curtis is. I can’t imagine either of you doing what you did with malicious intent.”
“Is Dr. Curtis okay?”
“She is very well. In fact, she demanded a doughnut with her tea.”
I laughed. That was my PJ. “And no doubt you obliged?”
“I’m afraid the best we could offer her at this early hour were some stale ginger biscuits. She’ll be finished with her statement soon. Right now, I’d like to hear what you have to say.”
He instructed me to relate the evening’s activities in my own words, including the events leading up to them. My statement would be recorded for posterity on tape.
I did as he asked, trying to provide every detail, including the letter Morrison had written to Frederick, the age-enhanced pictures, and our early suspicions of the fake Morrison’s identity.
“You realize,” he said afterwards, “that in playing detectives you both committed a crime?”
“Yes, I do. But, it was all my idea. PJ - Dr. Curtis - had nothing to do with it, except that she was concerned for my welfare and didn’t want me going out alone.”
His brow furrowed. “This isn’t one of your archaeological mysteries. She would have been better served if she had restrained you altogether.”
“She tried, but I was being stubborn.”
His lips twitched, revealing a hint of amusement. “Your stories ring true. They’re similar, but obviously not rehearsed. So, I’m letting you both go. The fact is that your crime uncovered a greater one.” DCI Mann stood and escorted me to the outer office. “Our people are investigating that as we speak.”
He walked me back to the long bench where I could wait for PJ. I felt the need to explain our actions a bit further before he left.
“You know, Inspector, this all started as an archaeological investigation. We came to Wales looking for a lost Celtic warrior.”
“A Celt, eh?” He rubbed some stubble on the tip of his chin. “It appears that you got more than you bargained for, Dr. Blair.”
Sergeant Jones came out of the room at the end of the hall, grinning. When she noticed her boss with me, the grin vanished.
“All finished, Jones?” he asked as she drew closer.
“They’ll be ready in a tick, sir.”
“Fine.” He exchanged information with her in quiet undertones and then turned to me. “I’ll leave you in Sergeant Jones’s capable hands and go see what’s keeping the rest of them.”
“Thank you, sir, for going easy on us.” I shook his hand.
He wandered back down the hallway, and I waited to see if Sergeant Jones had any questions for me.
“Your friend won’t be much longer,” she said, joining me on the bench.
“That’s good to hear.”
She laughed. “We’d have been finished a lot sooner, but she wittered on so.”
“I beg your pardon. ‘Wittered on?’”
“Sorry. It means chatted a bit too much about things.”
“When she gets nervous, she tends to do that.”
“I thought so. In our experience, when a person talks too much about anything, they either have something to hide, or they’re just really nervous.”
“And with PJ you thought - ”
“That she was probably nervous. I don’t believe the inside of a police station is familiar territory for either of you.”
“You’ve got that right. We’ve had enough excitement this past night to last us a long, long time.”
Her expression softened, and she lowered her voice. “I can see that you care for each other quite a bit.”
My breath caught. “And?”
“I thought it was sweet the way you both tried to take the blame for your unlawful entry last night. You told the inspector it was your idea, and Dr. Curtis assured us it was hers. You’re protective of each other, and you care about each other.”
“Yes, we’re friends as well as colleagues.”
The door at the end of the hallway opened, and Inspector Mann led the group toward us. PJ’s smile widened when she spotted me.
“Are you okay?” she asked when the group reached me.
“Yes, I’m just fine.”
“I trust that you’ll check with us,” DCI Mann said, “if you’re going to leave the area.�
�
“You can count on it,” I assured him.
“And please, in future, leave the detective work to those of us trained in such matters.”
“I don’t need lightning to strike me twice,” PJ said. “Oh, and thanks for the ginger cookies. They were delicious.”
*
When we returned to the inn, PJ handled the sad task of informing her father that John and Jenny Morrison had been murdered. I left her talking on the cell phone, consoling her father, and went down to the kitchen to wangle a tray of cold meats, cheese, bread, and fruit to bring up to our room.
“You look like you’ve been through the wars.” The speaker was a buxom woman who was up to her elbows in flour.
“Mavis,” she said, flourishing a rolling pin like a weapon, “give the lady what she wants and give her some of that bread pudding with rum sauce. Heat it, mind you, so they can have it warm.”
“Yes, Cook, right away.”
Mavis appeared timid and terrified of Cook, as she called her. It must have been the rolling pin that was so menacing. She looked motherly, otherwise, though a bit overbearing.
“Thank you,” I said. “You’re very kind.”
“Kind nothing. I don’t know where you’ve been or what you’ve been up to, but you look like you’re in need of some comfort food and rest.”
“You’re right. Food and bed is all I can think about right now.”
Cook turned again to Mavis, who was setting up a tray of food. “Get a move on, girl. Can’t keep the lady standing here all day.”
Mavis scurried over with the loaded tray. “Can I help you with this, ma’am? Carry it upstairs for you?”
“No, thank you, Mavis. I can manage.”
The tough part would be staying awake long enough to eat.
*
PJ and I sat by the fire and nibbled our food in silence. She was subdued from her phone call, and I was too tired to keep a conversation going. We perked up a bit when we tried Cook’s bread pudding and rum sauce. It tasted as delicious as it smelled, but we were too tired to do more than sample it.
We were still in our commando clothes. Neither one of us had the energy to change and get cleaned up. The whole eventful day and evening required discussion, but it would have to come later.
PJ stood and stretched. “I know I should eat. We both should, but I’m too tired and too dirty.”
I put my glass of water down. “Me, too. It’s hard to decide which to do first. Eat, sleep, or wash? We’re in need of all three.”
She knelt behind me and slipped the soiled shirt away from my shoulders. I felt her fingers working the stiffness from my knotted tendons.
“Bless you. That feels wonderful.”
“You don’t seem to be any hungrier than I am right now,” she murmured against the back of my neck.
I twisted around, smiling. “Maybe later.”
“I think we both could use a long soak in that huge tub.” She gave me one of her lopsided grins and caressed my cheek. “How about it? Want to scrub my back?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” I captured her hand and kissed her palm.
Her eyes moistened. “I want you to know how much I appreciated having you with me today.”
“There’s no need to say anything.”
“I would never have been able to go through all that alone.”
“Anything for you, baby. I love you.”
She kissed me, and I replied in kind.
The kiss was a tender expression of love and commitment. There was nothing lusty or tongue tangling this time, just two souls reaffirming their closeness, forever and always.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, her voice husky. “So much it frightens me sometimes.”
She padded to the bathroom and filled the old tub with fragrant raspberry bubbles. I took Pup outside for a quick visit to the shrubbery and settled him in front of the fire with the tasty soup bone that Arwel had brought for him earlier.
PJ and I stripped off our grubby clothing, piled it in a corner of the bathroom, and placed thick terrycloth towels beside the tub. I helped her step up and into the steaming water. I arranged myself at her back, with my legs stretched out on either side of her hips.
“Ah, my own personal cushion.” With a contented sigh, she leaned against my chest.
Languidly, we soaped and rinsed each other until the water grew cool and our bodies demanded sleep. Then, exhausted, we rubbed each other dry, dropped our towels on the floor, and tumbled into bed.
I kissed PJ’s forehead, eyelids, and nose while she giggled and responded with sleepy endearments.
“Snuggle up now,” I said after our motions grew sluggish. “We’ve had a hell of a day, and we need sleep. Don’t fight it anymore.”
PJ rolled toward me, draping her upper body across mine. Stroking her firm, smooth back, I guided her head to my collarbone and sighed, feeling her heart beating in time with my own.
She yawned. “Okay, my love. I surrender.”
*
A tap on our door woke me up. My watch indicated that we had been asleep for four hours, though it seemed just minutes since we had curled up together. Another, more insistent knock came, and I slid out from under my partner.
PJ moaned and smacked her lips. Her hand brushed my breast. “So good.”
I grinned. “Hold that thought, okay? There’s someone at the door. Probably Arwel.”
She opened her eyes. “Arwel? At the door? Okay, let her in.”
I was up and pulling on pants and a sweatshirt. “Not quite that easy, sweetie. We’re not exactly dressed for company.”
“Jesus, we’re naked.”
“There you go.”
She shot up to a sitting position, giving me a splendid view of her chest. “Wait. What should I do?”
I found her robe and tossed it at her. “Get in the bathroom and run some water. Pretend you’ve been in there awhile. I’ll get the door.”
She finger-combed her unruly hair and flashed me a saucy grin. “Very clever. You act like you’ve done this sort of thing before.”
“Not now, PJ.”
The knock sounded again, louder this time. “Coming,” I called, making shooing motions at my partner.
She entered the bathroom, and I opened the bedroom door.
“Arwel, hi. Sorry to be so long. We had a rest after our long night and were just getting up.”
She dipped her head. “Dr. Blair, ‘tis I who am sorry to trouble you, but there’s a telephone call from the police station. An Inspector Mann, I believe he said. He left this number for you to ring him back.” She handed me a piece of paper.
“Oh, yes. We’ve been expecting that. Thank you, Arwel.”
“Certainly.”
“Just let me find my shoes.”
There were sounds of running water coming from the bathroom now, followed by splashing, and PJ’s off-key rendition of… something. I think it might have been an Indigo Girls song, but it was hard to tell.
I rapped on the door and shouted, “I have to take a phone call.”
The singing stopped just long enough for PJ to say, “Okay,” then started up again. Way more role-playing than we needed, but I appreciated the effort.
I followed Arwel down the narrow wooden stairs to the reception area hallway and dialed the number. “Hello, Inspector,” I said when he came on the line. “Sorry to be so long getting back to you.”
“That’s quite all right. I wanted to let you and your colleague know what we found at the Morrison estate. I know you gave me your mobile phone number, but I don’t trust them for relaying sensitive information.”
I looked around the deserted hallway. Arwel and her assistants were busy at the reception desk.
“I can talk, Inspector. Were you able to locate those men?”
“No, I’m afraid the grounds were empty when we got there. The bodies, though, were exactly where you said they would be. We’ve transported them to the Medical Examiner’s
office for autopsies, and we’re in the process of notifying the family members, so someone can make a positive identification.”
“Such a terrible thing to have happened. I’m so sorry the perpetrators got away.”
“Rest assured that we will track them down and arrest them.”
“I’m sure you will, Inspector. Thank you for letting me know. I’ll relay this information to Dr. Curtis.”
“Oh, and one more thing, Dr. Blair. The estate has been sealed off for crime scene investigation. It’s off limits, and that means to you, too.”
“Don’t worry. We’re not about to go back there.”
I hung up, and drummed my fingers on the reception desk for a few seconds. If only I could get PJ to stop singing, we could get a few more hours of sleep.
Chapter 11
“They got away?” I stretched back on the bed, laced my fingers behind my head, and stared at the ceiling, processing what Kim had just told me. “Then we messed up by going there.”
“Not necessarily. If we hadn’t gone there, we wouldn’t have found - ”
“Yeah, that’s another thing. Two people dead.” I exhaled and sat up. “Maybe they would still be alive, if we hadn’t come to Wales.”
Kim sat down beside me. “Hey, where is all this coming from? You were calm and collected when I went to talk on the phone with the inspector, and now you seem to be riding a huge wave of guilt. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
I leaned forward, braced my head in my hands, and my stomach tightened. “That’s the trouble. I don’t think I was feeling anything before. I think I was numb. It hadn’t sunk in, what happened. But now - Jesus, this is such a mess.”
Kim put her arm across my back and drew me in. The warmth of her embrace further undermined my emotional resolve, and I embarrassed myself by bursting into tears.
“Honey?” She patted my back.
I snuffled and hiccupped in an attempt to stop the flood. “I’m - I’m sorry.”
“Shh. It’s okay. This has been building up inside you, and it’s time to let it all out.” She guided my head to her chest and rocked me gently, offering a tissue when I finally stopped.
I blew my nose, sat up, and managed a weak grin.
“Feel better now?” She smoothed my hair and dabbed my cheeks.