To Bedevil A Beauty (Southern Sanctuary - Book 5)

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To Bedevil A Beauty (Southern Sanctuary - Book 5) Page 10

by Jane Cousins


  “I met a cousin of yours last night.” Ramsey commented as he searched the cupboards for plates, cutlery and napkins in readiness for their meal.

  Oh, sweet Lady thank you, a change of topic. “That doesn’t exactly narrow the field for me there, Hotshot.”

  “Sorry, I keep forgetting how everyone in this town is weirdly related.” Ramsey straightened to lean back against the sink, cradling his glass of wine in his hand. Logistically he figured this was the furthest spot he could possibly be in the kitchen from Berry, of the - oh so - kissable lips and flashing eyes. He both hated and loved her sling, as it shielded her upper body where the top of her low pyjama top buttoned, but without it, he would have been even more distracted. “I was talking about Charisse… and her husband Nate was there as well.”

  “Husband? You’re sure?”

  “Definitely, there was a lot of talk about the diamond ring Charisse was wearing.”

  “Really?” Berry was pleased for her cousin but still a little dubious.

  “Plus the band-aides, they seemed important for some reason as well.”

  “Oh, well it must be true then.”

  “You want to explain that comment?” Ramsey enquired.

  “What?”

  “I tell you your cousin is wearing a diamond ring and you blow off the possibility, but as soon as I mention band-aides, suddenly it means that my information is faultless.”

  “Don’t be silly, it just took me a moment to process the news that’s all. They haven’t known each other all that long and Charisse always swore she’d never get married.”

  “Nate must have changed her mind, they make a nice couple… a little kooky, but nice. They said to mention there will be a party… eventually.”

  Berry still felt a little dazed by the news, Charisse married? Melded? Goddess, what was going on at the Sanctuary? First Gaia, then Hadleigh, Nell and Locke. It was like an epidemic had hit… yeah, plague Great-Aunt Alma, match making scourge. Damn that woman and her interfering ways. Why was her Aunt so all fired up about permanence? With linking two people together for eternity? Merciful Lady, what if she and Robert had been melded, not just married? The horror.

  Funny how she’d never even considered taking that next step, of telling Robert about the Sanctuary, sharing blood and making their bond unbreakable. Urgh, it was enough to give her nightmares. A pox on being melded, it might be fine for other people but it was not on the cards for her. She’d tried been married and obviously it wasn’t for her. She hoped Alma realised that fact. If her Aunt even thought about trying to set her up with someone she swore there would be consequences. Biblical… incarcerate her Aunt for life, consequences.

  Ramsey broke in to her thoughts. “I know you said you wouldn’t talk about Granger anymore but one last question. His mother? Would she have heard from him? Would he contact her?”

  Berry frowned. “I want to say no. After all the lies and everything he stole, I don’t think Joanne has ever forgiven him but…” She shrugged, Joanne had been devastated by Robert’s actions when they’d come to light. Nor had she wanted to hear her only child’s excuses, as far as Berry was aware Joanne had cut all ties, but a mother and child bond… some ran deeper than others.

  “You don’t know for sure?”

  “No.”

  Ramsey reached into his pocket for his mobile phone, planning to send one of the McKenzie brothers to interview Joanne Granger. “Where will my people find her?”

  “They won’t, not tonight. She’s been staying with some of my relatives at the retirement village since my accident, but tonight I’m pretty sure she said she had a date over at Reverie Valley.”

  Hmmm, Ramsey tucked his phone back in his pocket. One of the trails leading from the abandoned camp site had led towards Reverie Valley… co-incidence? He didn’t think so. He’d be interviewing Mrs Granger first thing in the morning himself.

  “I’m sure Joanne doesn’t…” The oven timer buzzed loudly, drowning out the last of Berry’s protest.

  “Food’s on.” Ramsey grabbed a tea towel.

  Berry grit her teeth, the man was like a dog with a bone. Continuing to think that Robert was behind her attack despite her reassurances and now he was going to go after Jo. Oh well, if he turned up at the retirement village and upset Joanne, then she almost pitied the man, her relatives wouldn’t take lightly any threat to Joanne.

  Grabbing her wine Berry carefully slid down off the stool and shuffled over to the small round dining room table set off to the side of the kitchen.

  “You doing okay?”

  Ramsey slid a plate of chicken tetrazzini in front of her, the smell of comfort food alone instantly reminding her she was hungry. “I’m good.” She picked up her fork. Bless the family for thinking about the fact that she would only be able to use one hand to eat with for the next few days. Hmmm, she took a few quick bites, she was guessing Great-Aunt Kath’s recipe.

  “So I spent today reading through the judgements you’ve passed over the last eight months since you took up your post here.”

  Berry blinked. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “It was before I heard about the prison break-out. I was looking for a viable suspect amongst the people you’d passed sentencing on.”

  Berry chuffed a small laugh and reached for her wine. “Bet you got a shock.”

  “Fence disputes, parking fine protests, property infringement… overdue library books?”

  “Ah, you’ve discovered the small town secrets of the judicial system. What were you hoping for, murder, mayhem and hangings?”

  “There were a few cases missing from the reports.” Ramsey pressed.

  “Oh, they’re probably the ones where there were privacy issues.” Yeah right, Berry hid a grimace. More like they had a wacky magical element, not the type of thing the High Council would want listed in the public sanitized records. “In the court’s defence regarding the overdue library books, we are talking about Lester Cullen, who’s squirrelled away over two thousand of them.”

  “Why do they keep letting him borrow books?”

  “They don’t. That’s part of the problem. No one knows how he keeps managing to check them out. Aunt Patricia, who runs the library, is beyond peeved. Personally I think Lester is sweet on her and this is the only way he can think to get her attention.”

  “Seriously?” The edges of Ramsey’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile. “Did you recover the books?”

  “No. Lester produced some century old by-law and before I knew it I was designating his potting shed a library annex.”

  “How did that go down?”

  “Aunt Patricia is livid. Lester appeared amused, now he gets an automatic invite to the mandatory weekly library coalition meeting.”

  “And gets to spend time with the woman he’s secretly sweet on.”

  “Exactly, though I’m not sure how it’s working out for him. Patricia often changes the venue at the very last moment, or the time or date.”

  “Ah, now I feel sorry for the guy.” Ramsey smiled.

  “It’s hard not to, he’s half the size of Aunt Patricia and just between you and me, she can be kind of… rigid in her ways, but Lester… there’s something about the way he looks at her when she’s not looking his way.”

  “Aw, Your Honour, for all your big talk about swearing off men, you’re just a big old romantic aren’t you?”

  Berry felt colour blossom in her cheeks. Setting her fork down, she glared across the table at Ramsey. “What do you mean by that crack?”

  “Nothing, though I’m glad you put the fork down.”

  “I wasn’t being romantic, I was following the law. My personal feelings don’t enter into my rulings.”

  “Really, what about the fence case then?”

  Berry frowned in confusion.

  “I can’t remember their names… I think one was called Malcolm and the other …”

  “Mortimer. You mean the twins?”

  “That sounds right. You m
ade them build a fence together. Where in any law book does it state both parties should be sentenced to personally build a fence to divide their properties?”

  Berry pushed her half empty plate away and scooped up her wine glass. Damn, she found that she enjoyed verbally sparring with Ramsey Hughes. He challenged her and he surprised her. “Often in property disputes when families are involved it falls to the judge to make the best decision for everyone. The twins are the best of friends, they live next door to one another, they even work together but when it comes to the property line dividing their land, all bets are off. We’re talking thirty odd years of bickering and name calling over who owns each and every blade of grass. Rather than have them keep taking up the court’s time, I decided to put my foot down.”

  “So they built a fence. How did it work out?”

  Berry rolled her eyes. “Not so good. Malcolm wants to paint it white and Morty wants to paint it green. They’re scheduled to appear before me next week after a nasty paint throwing argument escalated.”

  Ramsey couldn’t prevent the laughter that burst forth. God, when was the last time he’d had a relaxed dinner with a woman and had so much fun just talking and getting to know her? Never, women in the criminal underworld were either considered inconsequential and disposable assets or more deadly an unpredictable than any man, sporting knives and unafraid to use them. If you valued your - low on the totem pole - role in the organisation, you learned quickly to keep them a respectable distance.

  “And what about Barty? Local nudist and flaunter of flesh? What sort of judgment can he expect to receive from the presiding Judge?”

  A small smile played at the edges of Berry’s lips. “I was considering allowing him to hold an official protest in the town square in defence of his cause; to garner public opinion and support.”

  “That sounds rather lenient?” Ramsey mused, topping up his wine and then adding a splash to Berry’s glass.

  “Oh does it. Unfortunately scheduling wise, it might get tricky. I was thinking we couldn’t possibly hold it until late July, maybe August.” Berry’s lips quirked up higher in a delightfully evil smile.

  Ramsey found himself laughing again. “In the dead of winter? Sounds like a plan.”

  “Laugh all you want Chief, but if you don’t get my… situation resolved soon, Barty may well be planting his naked butt on your sofa cushions if I’m forced to relocate my courtroom here. You have until Friday to get it sorted out, don’t say you haven’t been warned.”

  Ramsey winced, though still laughed. “I think escorting you to and from the court house might be something we can work out.”

  “I thought you might like my argument.”

  “You think only one more day of rest is enough before you go back to work?”

  “I checked with Nell earlier, it is after all only a bump on the head and technically rather a deep cut.”

  “Groove. Flesh wounds are called grooves.”

  “The difference being?” Berry was intrigued despite the rather gory subject.

  Ramsey shook his head in silent amusement. Good one Ramsey, this was definitely the sort of snappy dialogue guaranteed to win a girl’s affection. “You can use a knife to puncture, to slice, but unless you cut something vital everything will knit back together pretty quickly. Bullets though, when they hit, even a flesh wound, they travel through the body gouging out flesh, muscle… whatever’s in its path. Harder to knit what’s no longer technically in the body.”

  “Informative, and a far from pleasant thought.” Berry mused.

  “Hmm, on that note, whilst I’m clearing away the dishes I was hoping you would do me a favour.”

  Berry quirked an eyebrow upwards briefly, intrigued.

  “You were a lawyer down in Sydney, right? Before coming here? I was hoping you might put together a list of disgruntled former clients. More suspects for the pool of people who might want to see you hurt.”

  Berry eased herself carefully to her feet. Hmm, she was starting to lag but she didn’t want to excuse herself just yet, she was tired of sleeping and there was the lingering possibility that Limbo was waiting to ambush her as soon as she opened her bedroom door. While Ramsey cleaned up the kitchen she returned to the sitting room and the large comfy sofa. “I think you’re on the wrong track there.”

  Ramsey, wine glass in hand, resumed his seat in the armchair. “You sure do like to tell me how to do my job. First, it couldn’t possibly be Granger, and now it can’t possibly be one of your ex-clients. You’re not leaving me much to run with here.”

  “I’m just saying, I worked in Legal Aid, most of my clients were just grateful to have someone on their side, someone to talk too.”

  “And they always walked away happy?” Sarcasm laced his tone.

  “Well no…”

  “I need that list Berry. Someone is after you.”

  “I still think it’s you the bullet was intended for.” Berry insisted stubbornly. She was a small town Judge, who could possibly want to hurt her? Ramsey was wrong, he was the one in danger, she was sure of it. If he kept on ignoring what was so obvious to her, he might really get hurt or worse. How could she make him see reason? That he was chasing down all the wrong leads.

  The sound of Ramsey’s mobile buzzing interrupted her whirling thoughts.

  “Chief Hughes…. Hey Cam… Say again…. When?.... Do you need me to… No, that’s good. Yeah…. Okay yes, I understand…. I’ll need a report on my desk first thing in the morning.” He disconnected the call, eyeing Berry with grim dark eyes.

  “What was that about?”

  “It was Cam. Someone just torched your car. You still going to sit there and tell me this isn’t all about you Berry?”

  Chapter Ten

  The retirement village was a definite surprise for Ramsey. Located at the southern end of the Bay. The community was set amidst a lush tropical garden, consisting of a series of gorgeous homes, tiered back, rising up the side of the Bluff, ensuring that each row had a sea view. As Ramsey drove his car through the narrow red bricked lanes, greenery looming on all sides, he was reminded of a high end luxury resort rather than a retirement home for the elderly.

  Elderly? Seriously, that was questionable. So far he’d passed a group of ladies doing pretty advanced yoga moves on a sweeping green lawn. Then a bunch of joggers had overtaken him… and he was driving. He caught a glimpse through foliage of a guy tinkering with a Harley Davidson in one garage and a block over, he caught sight of a lady, with a welding torch in hand, working on a metal sculpture in her front garden. He could only hope he was half as fit, an interested in life when he reached retirement age.

  The exterior of Margot Torrent’s home had a Balinese feel to it, but the inside was all modern, with comfortable furnishings. From the moment he entered the dwelling, Adelaide, Daphne and Margot had greeted him with genuine warmth. No sign that any of the trio held a grudge against him regarding their speeding fines. Instead he’d been on the receiving end of several welcoming hugs and kisses. A strange and weird experience for Ramsey in itself. After several minutes of enduring their fussing, general hovering and a number of sweetly worded, but prying personal questions, he’d been forced to request that the trio give him and Joanne Granger some privacy. Reluctantly the ladies had retreated to the kitchen. Though Ramsey would have been prepared to bet that each of them now had her ear pressed tightly up against the kitchen door, all the better to eavesdrop.

  Resisting the urge to sigh, Ramsey contemplated Joanne Granger, sitting across from him on a plush cream coloured sofa, a coffee table separating them, loaded down with plates of freshly baked cookies, slices, pastries and small cakes. There was also a pot of some of the best smelling coffee Ramsey had ever come across, sending up curls of steam into the air.

  “When was the last time you saw Robert?” He shook his head as Joanne offered him a plate of scrumptious looking apple tarts.

  “His sentencing.” There was only the slightest hint of anger edging Joanne’s wo
rds, but it didn’t affect the warmth in her blue eyes or the gentle smile playing at the edges of her lips.

  “And when was the last time you had contact with your son? A letter? Phone call? Message?” He shook his head as Joanne next held out a plate of oatmeal cookies.

  “That would have been just after he was arrested. I visited him in… I visited him so that I could ask him face to face, if the charges were true.”

  “And no contact since then?” Shaking his head at the plate of Danish pastries now being offered.

  “None.”

  “You’re aware that Robert escaped from prison ten days ago?”

  “Yes, Berry texted me last night.” Joanne reached over to pick up the steaming pot. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Ramsey’s radar twitched, he sensed movement and heard hushed whispers from the kitchen but chose to ignore them. “Do you think Robert would come here?”

  Joanne placed the steaming cup of coffee down in front of Ramsey but chose not to pour herself one. “What you really want to know is, do I believe Robert capable of hurting Berry?” Joanne shrugged, her lips widening into a humourless smile. “If you’d asked me that question the day before Robert was arrested I would have said no. But after, when it all came out, the things he did. All the lies and the stealing… his disregard for Berry… for me. Honestly, I have to admit Chief Hughes that I have absolutely no idea what my son is thinking or what he is capable of anymore.” Joanne’s hand trembled ever so slightly as she reached up to tuck her hair behind one ear. “All I can ask is that you stay close to Berry. Protect her… please.”

  “That’s my number one priority at the moment Mrs Granger.”

  “You can’t imagine how relieved I am to hear that.”

  Ramsey studied his notes for a moment, absently reaching out to pick up his cup of coffee. His fingers were about to close around the handle when some instinct kicked in, all rustling, all whispering going on in the kitchen behind him had come to an abrupt halt. As if everyone was collectively holding their breath. He froze, what had Berry said about not accepting food from Margot, jewellery from Daphne or a beverage from Adelaide? And as sure as the sky was blue, he gut deep knew that Adelaide had prepared this coffee. Abruptly he shifted in his seat, using the hand that had been reaching for the coffee to instead, quickly flick through his notebook, as if he was searching for a question that had momentarily eluded him.

 

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