by Susan Lewis
“Jesus,” Ruthie muttered under her breath. “Do you think…?”
“I don’t know what to think, and I won’t until one of them gets in touch with me. So if you do know where they are, or if anyone else does—”
“Just you leave it with me,” Ruthie interrupted, and the line went dead.
It was around lunchtime the following day that Andee rang again.
“There’s still no sign of Amelia,” she told Jules, “so the police are on their way to talk to you.”
Having heard nothing from Kian, Danny, or Ruthie, Jules did her best to sound indignant, which she thought seemed the right attitude in the circumstances. “What on earth do they think I might know?” she demanded hotly.
“The answer to that is probably nothing; they just have to follow procedure. If you want me to come, I will, but obviously there won’t be anything I can do, apart from listen and maybe explain or advise in some way after they’ve gone.”
Jules didn’t need any time to consider. “I’d like you to be here,” she told her.
“OK. I’ll call and let them know and get there as soon as I can. Actually, you know one of them. Leo Johnson?”
Remembering him as the young detective who’d taken Daisy’s disappearance seriously from the start, Jules said, “Do they have any theories yet on where Amelia might be?”
“Not that they’ve shared with me. Try not to worry. This is simply routine.”
“Because her father’s insisting on it?”
“Partly, but also because they’d be failing in their duty if they didn’t interview you.”
After ringing off, Jules went to find Joe and Ethan in the garden. “The police are on their way,” she informed them.
They immediately looked up from their laptops.
“Apparently they still haven’t found her,” she explained.
“Did you get hold of Kian yet?” Joe asked, his mind clearly going along the same lines as hers.
She shook her head.
“Do the police know he’s not in Ireland?”
“I’m not sure. Where’s Stephie?”
“Right here,” Stephie replied, stepping out of the door behind her. “So she’s still missing?”
Jules’s head was throbbing; her expression was as grim as the foreboding in her heart as she pictured all kinds of terrible scenarios. Not that Amelia didn’t deserve any one of them, but if Kian was involved…“Apparently,” she said. “I should call Ruthie.”
Going back inside, she got to her mobile just as it started to ring. Seeing it was Aileen, she quickly clicked on. “Have you heard from him?” she asked in a rush.
“No,” Aileen replied. “But I’ve just spoken to our Bridget. So the Quentin girl’s done a disappearing act?”
Unsurprised that the news had traveled, Jules said, “It would seem so.”
“Mary, Mother of God,” Aileen muttered. “What are they thinking? They can’t be taking the law into their own hands….”
Chilled by the voicing of her own fear, Jules said, “We don’t know anything yet. Did Kian tell you what sort of business he had to sort out with Danny?”
“No, I just assumed…Well, it doesn’t matter what I assumed. What does is where the heck they are now and what they might have done with that girl. If they’ve done anything, and I’m not saying they have, but the coincidence…It doesn’t look good, Jules, and why aren’t they answering their phones, either of them? Have you asked yourself that?”
Jules had, far too many times, and the lack of an answer was getting her more worked up than ever. “I need to call Ruthie,” she said shortly. “She gave me the impression yesterday that she might be able to find out where they are.”
Moments later Ruthie was saying, “I felt sure one of the cousins would know, but if they do, they’re not saying, and frankly I’m not convinced that they do.”
“Well, they have to be somewhere,” Jules snapped frustratedly, “and once the police find out that Kian’s not in Ireland, if they haven’t already, and that Danny, who presumably collected him from the airport yesterday, has vanished too, you can imagine what conclusions they’ll jump to. The very same conclusions as I’m jumping to myself.”
“I have to admit the coincidence is bothering us all,” Ruthie informed her, “but there could still be a perfectly good explanation—”
“If you can come up with one, then please let me know in the next few minutes,” Jules cut in, “because the police are about to turn up here and I’d like to be able to tell them that whatever’s happened to Amelia Quentin has nothing to do with the Brights.”
As she put the phone down she felt Joe’s arm slip comfortingly around her, and because she needed to lean on someone for a moment she didn’t pull away. “It’ll be fine,” she told him, as much to convince herself as him. “I’m not sure how yet, but we’ll work it out.”
Giving her a squeeze, he said, “Just tell us what you need us to do.”
“It’s enough that you’re here. I expect the police will want to talk to you too.” Her eyes closed as the implications of what this could mean for Joe and Ethan dawned on her.
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine,” he insisted when she voiced her fear. “We haven’t done anything, so no way are we going to end up with some sort of guilt by association if there’s—”
Not wanting to remind him about Dean and joint enterprise, she said, “But if it stops you going to college…”
“It won’t, whatever it is, and as we don’t know that yet, we should just keep a lid on it and remember that none of us has anything to hide.”
Only wishing that were true, Jules turned away and stiffened as someone knocked on the door. Stephie and Ethan came in from the garden.
“I expect it’s them,” Stephie said edgily. “I’ll go let them in.”
Praying it would turn out to be Kian, or at the very least Danny, Jules waited with Joe and Ethan, watching and listening, and trying not to show how wretched she felt when Andee came into the kitchen followed by DC Leo Johnson and a slight woman in her mid-twenties who, perversely, looked vaguely like a darker version of Amelia.
“I’m DC Jemma Payne,” the young woman told her. “Please just call me Jemma, or Jem.”
Jules attempted a smile, and after introducing Joe and Ethan she suggested they go through to the sitting room. “I’m guessing she hasn’t turned up yet,” she said, perching on the edge of an armchair while Andee took the other and the detectives settled on the sofa. The youngsters squatted on the floor in front of Jules as though trying to protect her.
“I’m afraid not,” Leo replied as Jemma took out a notebook. He glanced at Andee, who’d once been his superior officer, but she wasn’t looking his way.
“When was she last seen?” Stephie asked.
“As far as we know it was on Friday evening about half past nine,” Leo replied.
“Where?” Joe wanted to know.
“At home. Apparently her boyfriend went into town with a few of their friends around that time, but Amelia stayed behind.”
“And she’d gone by the time he got back?” Stephie prompted.
“We’re still trying to establish that.”
“But surely her boyfriend must know if she was there when he got home,” Stephie pointed out.
Leo smiled pleasantly. “I’m supposed to be the one asking questions,” he reminded her.
Flushing, Stephie said, “If you ask me, she decided to dump him and did a runner.”
Leaving him and the ex-con friends with access to the house? Jules was thinking. It didn’t seem likely.
“Have you had any contact with her since she was released from prison?” Leo Johnson asked Stephie.
Stephie’s face tightened as she shook her head. “No thanks,” she spat.
“How about you guys?” he asked Joe and Ethan.
“None whatsoever,” Joe replied. “She’s got to be the last person I’d want any contact with.”
“And yet y
ou’re here, in Kesterly, only weeks after her release?”
Joe reddened. “Coincidence,” he responded. “I was always planning to come now, prior to taking a trip round Europe. When I booked I had no idea she’d be around by the time I got here.”
Seeming to accept that, Leo said to Jules, “How about you, Mrs. Bright? Have you had any contact with Amelia since she came out of prison?”
Jules’s eyes darted to Andee as she prepared to lie.
“Of course she hasn’t,” Stephie piped up crossly. “You know what that psycho did to Daisy, so no way would Jules want anything to do with her.”
Leo regarded Stephie for a few moments before returning his attention to Jules. “How about your husband?” he asked. “Do you know if he’s had any contact with Amelia?”
“Not as far as I’m aware,” Jules replied steadily.
“Is he still in Ireland?”
“He was the last time I spoke to him.”
“Which was when?”
“On Wednesday of last week.”
“And you say, or Stephie here says, that you haven’t seen or spoken to Amelia at all in the last few weeks?”
Jules’s throat turned dry.
Leo Johnson waited.
Silence seemed to crack the air.
When Jules still didn’t answer Stephie turned to look at her.
“Have you?” Leo prompted.
“No,” Jules finally managed.
As Leo’s eyes went down Jules knew instantly that she’d made a mistake. “That’s not actually true, is it?” he said, looking at her again.
Sensing Joe bristling, Jules put a hand on his shoulder as she said, “Why do you say that?”
“Because there’s CCTV footage of you parked outside Crofton Park,” Leo told her gravely. “It also shows you walking up to the camera and staring into it before driving after Amelia when she left the property.”
From the corner of her eye Jules saw Joe’s disbelief, while Andee gazed at her in dismay.
“We also have reason to believe that you followed Amelia to Fruit of the Vine last Thursday evening,” Leo continued.
Belligerently Joe demanded, “Exactly where are you going with this?”
Leo said benignly, “I’m just trying to establish what sort of contact Mrs. Bright has had with Amelia Quentin during the past few weeks, but most particularly over recent days.” To Jules he added, “Did the two of you engage in conversation at the wine bar?”
“She needs a lawyer,” Joe broke in hotly.
“It’s all right,” Jules assured him. “No, we didn’t speak at the wine bar,” she told Leo, “or while I was parked outside her house.”
Curiously Leo said, “Can I ask why you were parked outside her house?”
Jules swallowed hard, and felt almost feverish as she replied, “It’s hard to explain….I wasn’t there to do anything. I guess I just wanted to show her that I wasn’t afraid of her. Or maybe I wanted to frighten her, to let her know that even if the system had decided she’d paid for her crime, as far as I was concerned…” Suddenly realizing where she was taking herself, she came to a stop.
Clearly registering the unspoken words, Leo said, “Where were you on Friday evening after nine-thirty?”
“I was here,” Jules replied.
“We all were,” Stephie put in.
Knowing that wasn’t true, Jules said, “No, sweetheart, you guys went down to the Mermaid for something to eat.”
“Yes, but we were back by nine-thirty.”
“It was closer to ten-thirty,” Jules told her gently, realizing Stephie was trying to give her an alibi.
“And what about Saturday?” Leo asked. “Can you give us an account of your movements that day?”
“Um, yes, I think so. In the morning I went to the care home to see my mother. After that I met Misty Walsh, who runs the Mermaid, at the Seafront Café for lunch. I guess I got home around four and then I was here for the rest of the time.”
“Alone?”
“No, we were here,” Joe answered.
“All evening?”
“Yes, all evening.”
“No, you went to the cinema on Saturday evening,” Jules reminded him. Didn’t they realize that lying to protect her was going to end them up in more trouble than they needed?
Everyone looked at Jemma Payne as her mobile started to ring.
After checking who it was, she murmured something to Leo and left the room.
Taking out his own notebook, Leo turned back to Jules. “I’m presuming the staff at the care home will confirm that you were there on Saturday morning?” he asked.
“They will.”
“Same goes for Misty Walsh and Fliss at the Seafront?”
“Fliss wasn’t in on Saturday. Vince was running things, and there were a few other staff around. I can probably give you their names.”
After glancing at Andee he changed course with a question Jules really hadn’t been expecting. “Did Amelia Quentin come here last Tuesday evening?” he asked.
Tensing to her core as all eyes came to her, Jules had no choice but to admit it.
Stephie turned to her openmouthed.
Cutting her off with a raised hand, Jules waited for Leo to continue.
“Did you speak to her?” he wanted to know.
“Yes, I did.”
“So you let her in?”
“Eventually.” Sensing the others’ incredulity, she added, “She wouldn’t go away and I…I can’t really say why I ended up opening the door.”
“Are you sure you didn’t invite her here?”
“Perfectly sure. I kept trying to make her go away, but she wouldn’t.”
“I’m sure you know the conditions of her release, so didn’t it occur to you to call the police, or her probation officer?”
“Yes, but…I guess I didn’t feel threatened.”
He seemed puzzled by that. “So what did you feel?”
“All sorts of things. Angry. Outraged. The kind of things you’d expect someone to feel when their daughter’s killer turns up at the door.”
Passing over the sarcasm, he said, “So after you let her in, what did you talk about?”
“Her mother and father. How she felt when Daisy told her they needed a break from each other…”
Leo waited for her to continue.
Suspecting Amelia had told her boyfriend, or another friend, everything that had been said while she was here, Jules said, “I’m not sure what she hoped to gain from coming to see me, but I can tell you this, she as good as admitted to killing Daisy. I realize it’s my word against hers, but there’s never been any doubt in my mind, and this time she didn’t deny it.”
The youngsters were staring at her again.
“Is that when you threatened her with a knife?” Johnson asked quietly.
Into a shocked silence, Jules said, “No, that happened after she tried to blame me for what she did to Daisy.”
“She blamed you?” Stephie cried in disgust.
Jules continued to look at Leo. “I ended up plunging the knife into the table,” she told him. “You can see the mark it left.”
Leo was about to speak again when Jemma Payne called him into the hall.
As the door closed behind him Jules looked at Andee, while feeling the strain of the others’ confusion as they watched her. “I don’t know where she is,” she told Andee earnestly.
Appearing to believe her, Andee said, “Why on earth didn’t you tell someone she’d been here?”
Jules shook her head. “I guess I didn’t want the fuss, or anyone to find out I’d been stalking her.”
“You weren’t stalking,” Stephie protested.
“I think that’s the way the law would see it,” Jules corrected her.
“I reckon she’s gone into hiding to try to cause trouble for you,” Joe declared decisively. “She’s obviously told her friends what happened when she came here, so now they’re—” He broke off as the door opened and Leo and J
emma came back into the room.
Seeing how worried they looked, Jules immediately thought of Kian, and felt her insides turning to liquid.
Remaining standing, Leo looked directly at her as he said, “We know that your husband was on a flight out of Dublin into Bristol on Saturday morning.”
Jules managed to return his gaze.
“Do you know where he is now?” he asked solemnly.
Trying to swallow, she said, “I’m afraid not.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“How about his cousin, Danny Bright? We’re told Danny collected your husband from the airport, and it seems no one’s seen either of them since.”
“I’ve tried calling them,” Jules admitted, “but they haven’t rung back.”
Leo glanced at Andee. “The call Jemma just took,” he said gruffly, returning his eyes to Jules, “was to inform us that a body’s been found on the rocks down by Porlock Weir.”
As the words hit Jules like a blow, the room started to spin. She was barely aware of what everyone was saying; it was as though they were all talking at once, while Andee only looked at her.
“Mrs. Bright,” Leo said, stepping forward, “I am arresting you on suspicion of—”
“For heaven’s sake, Leo,” Andee cut in angrily, “you know better than that. Unless someone’s already identified the body?” Her eyes flashed the challenge.
Leo was forced to admit that no one had.
“Then I suggest you get a few more facts together before you start making arrests.” She was on her feet, leaving the young detectives in no doubt that she was showing them the door.
As they left Jules made herself look at the others. It was clear no one knew what to say. She felt so wretched, so afraid, that she wanted to run and run as though she might end up in another land, another life that had nothing to do with it all.
Instead, she went to her phone and rang Kian.
“You have to call me,” she told his voicemail, angrily, brokenly. “The police have just tried to arrest me. They’ve found a body, Kian….For God’s sake, what the hell is going on?”
—
Within an hour of the detectives leaving, news came through that the body found at Porlock Weir was that of a young male, still unidentified, but believed to belong to a Devonshire lad who’d left a goodbye note for his parents.