Blood In The Sand: Betrayal, lies, romance and murder. (A Jack Le Claire Mystery)

by Kelly Clayton

  She took out a bottle of wine and a couple of cans of soft drinks from the fridge. She paused for a moment and wondered what she was doing. With a wry smile, she mentally stiffened her spine. Just do it, girl, she thought. What harm can it do?

  She followed Sam’s directions and simply headed towards the lighthouse. In front of the rocks, there was a group of people standing, chatting in small groups or huddled around what looked like a small smoking fire pit.

  She could see him in the near distance. He was standing with his back to her, but he turned around moments after her eyes locked on to his frame.

  His hand rose in welcome, and, after turning to speak to the man standing beside him, he sprinted up the beach towards her.

  He looked genuinely pleased to see her. “Hey, what a great surprise. Come on.” Grabbing Grace’s hand, Sam pulled her towards the group, and within moments, her head was buzzing from the round of introductions.

  A pretty brunette laughed and said, “Don’t worry if you can’t remember all the names. I’m Gemma, and this is my husband, Rob. He and Sam go back forever. So I’m sure we’ll meet up again.” She indicated to where Sam had been pulled aside by a black-haired, swarthy guy of average height and build with the most infectious, beaming smile Grace had ever encountered, a one-hundred-watt smile that was turned in her direction as the men came to join them. Each carried a bottle of beer and a glass of white wine.

  Rob passed the glass of wine he carried to Gemma, and Sam followed suit with Grace. Gemma sipped and let out an appreciative murmur. “Perfect. So, Grace, tell me, are you married?”

  A brief shadow crossed Grace’s face. She’d have to get used to her un-engaged state. “No, I’m not.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Nope. I guess I am, as they say, footloose and fancy-free.”

  Grace was slightly taken aback to see what looked like keen speculation mixed with a splash of cunning cross Gemma’s face. Gemma turned to Rob. “Come on, darling, let’s go and grab some food and let these two have a catch-up.” She grabbed her startled husband’s arm and virtually marched him off towards the smoking barbecue. In a moment, Grace and Sam were alone.

  Sam laughed. “Sorry about that. Subtlety isn’t what Gemma is known for.”

  Grace lifted a brow. “Subtlety?”

  “Yeah, after she realised you were single, she was desperate to leave us alone. Since she and Rob got married, Gemma has been on a one-woman mission to have the rest of their friends get settled down, although it seems like I’m number one on her list. Hence her habit of leaving me alone with any suitable female that comes up on her radar.”

  Grace was unsure whether to be flattered that Gemma apparently thought her “suitable” for Sam or insulted that she was just what appeared to be next in a long line of Gemma’s matchmaking finds. She decided to let flattery win. Quite frankly, she was too brain-tired to be insulted. It would take much more energy than she had at the moment. She was just going to go with the flow for once.

  Grace took a large gulp of wine and blinked as the alcohol rushed to her brain. “Whoa! I didn’t have any lunch today.”

  “Personally, I make a habit of never missing a meal. It’s my golden rule.”

  Grace laughed. Sam didn’t look as if he had an ounce of excess fat on him.

  Sam took a sip from his beer bottle and asked, “So how come you never had lunch?”

  “My mind was preoccupied.” At Sam’s quizzical look, Grace explained about the visit from Emma Layzell and her subsequent trip to talk to Ray Perkins.

  “I can see how talking to Ray would upset you. I don’t know him at all. I’ve just seen him out and about with Harriet. I overheard Kate talking to Mum about him once. She couldn’t see what Harriet saw in him, apart from his open wallet, and felt there was something a bit devious about him.”

  “Well, all I know is that Ray seemed genuinely upset today.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” At Grace’s sharp look, he continued. “What I mean is that Ray and Harriet seemed an odd, slightly mismatched pair, so it’s good that he genuinely cared about her.”

  Grace was surprised at Sam’s reading of this situation on an emotional level. She wasn’t used to the men she knew thinking that way. Her dad was not one for showing any emotion, and as for Carter... Well, he was always entirely correct, but Grace didn’t think he would actually consider how emotionally attached two other people were.

  Sam said, “You’re a million miles away. What’s up?”

  “Nothing really, just thinking how our image of the world—of our life—can seem one way and then, like a mirror tilting, we have a whole new perspective.”

  Sam laughed. “Wow, now that is deep.” He indicated his empty beer bottle hanging from two fingers. “Personally, I need another beer before I join you in philosophising. Come on, we can grab some food as well.”

  As they walked towards the group gathered around the food and drinks, Grace felt relaxed for the first time in days. She knew she was trying to block out the tragic news about Kate and Harriet. Surely there wasn’t anything wrong with that, just for a little bit.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Le Claire and Dewar waited on the Rocque View doorstep in the morning sunshine. He could hear the chiming bell through the thick, wooden door, and within moments, Grace was beckoning them in.

  Le Claire spoke first. “I am glad to see you alone. You always seem to have an Avery lurking nearby.” Apparently, the sarcasm in his voice wasn’t lost on her, and he noticed that she bristled slightly.

  “They have been very kind. What did you want to speak to me about?”

  “I need to warn you to be careful. I am sorry to be blunt, but we suspect that Mrs Avery may have been forcibly administered a large dose of insulin, and then, when she was in a hypoglycaemic state, thrown from the balcony. She may have been rendered unaware by the insulin, but it was the fall that killed her.”

  Grace winced at the harsh words, and Le Claire cursed his insensitivity. “I’m sorry, but you need to appreciate the ruthlessness of whoever committed this crime.” He paused. “Or rather, crimes, if we extend our thoughts to make this a double murder.”

  Grace Howard shivered. He saw her body tremble as the realisation hit. Both her aunts had been killed—was it really feasible that two murderers were at large, or was it the same person?

  “But why? What on earth could someone hope to achieve by disposing of Kate and Harriet? Was anything taken? Were they burgled?”

  Le Claire glanced at Dewar. She had carried out an on-site review of the apartment herself and reviewed the crime scene report. He could see the compassion in her eyes as she spoke to the bewildered Grace.

  “A thorough investigation has been conducted, and there is no sign of any disturbance to Miss Bellingham’s apartment other than in the area where she was attacked. There is nothing to give rise to a suspicion that this is a burglary gone wrong. However, we cannot rule out that Miss Bellingham disturbed someone before they were able to go through her apartment. I’m afraid we can’t say any more at the moment.”

  As they made to leave, Le Claire’s parting words hung in the air. “It is too much of a coincidence to suppose that two independent murders have taken place. They are connected; I am sure of it. Just be careful. I don’t have any solid reason to think you may be in danger, but what I do know is that you couldn’t have killed Kate Avery. And that could make you a victim here as well.”

  Once in the car, Le Claire directed Dewar to drive into town.

  “Where to now, sir?”

  “The Averys’ offices. I need to find out more about this family.”

  ◆◆◆

  After asking to see Richard Avery, they were ushered into a spacious meeting room—modern and sleek. Offers of coffees, teas and water were all refused, and Le Claire waited impatiently. Dewar was wandering about, smelling the numerous vases of artistically arranged flowers and leaves and looking out the south-facing windows; the view stretched across to
wn to the marina.

  After an interminable five minutes of ignoring Dewar’s sniffs, a tall man entered the room. His resemblance to Sam Avery gave away his identity. His face was open and his smile welcoming.

  “I’m Richard Avery. I believe you met my wife, Susannah, the other day. I assume you’re here about Kate. My son told us about your suspicions.”

  “I’m DCI Le Claire, and this is DS Dewar—and yes, we’ve come to ask you about Kate Avery and also Harriet Bellingham.”

  Richard Avery’s face registered surprise, which was quickly concealed. “What happened to Harriet is awful. I hear she was badly beaten, but I can’t help you. I barely knew the woman, so can’t see that I would be of any help.”

  “Let’s leave it to me whether you can assist or not. When I spoke to your wife the other day, she said you weren’t bothered about being left out of Kate Avery’s will. I find that hard to imagine. It must have been galling to be overlooked and see your own son take your place. We are talking about rather substantial sums. Were you aware of the terms of Mrs Avery’s will beforehand?”

  The natural smile slid off Richard Avery’s face. “No, I was not. However, I’m not surprised. Sam was a great favourite of Kate and Samuel. He is my only child, and I begrudge him nothing and would do anything for him. I am afraid you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  Dewar spoke, “It must surely have been inconvenient, perhaps even worrying, for your son that Miss Bellingham was threatening to hold up the estate. Especially as I understand your latest project has hit a financial setback.”

  Richard Avery replied, but his eyes were fixed on Le Claire. “I don’t appreciate these insinuations. Neither Sam nor I need money, and even if we were, murder is a step too far.”

  Le Claire stood. “If that were always the case, I’d be out of a job. Thanks for your time. I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”

  ◆◆◆

  Sam arrived home from work, and the first thing he did was grab a beer. He’d open the pool up and have a swim. Grace was nowhere in sight, and he figured she’d be getting ready for her date. He pushed aside the black thoughts that rose unbidden.

  As he walked outside, he saw that Luca was finishing off some weeding. He called out. “Fancy a drink?”

  Luca hurried over. “No thanks, I’m fine, Sam. There is something I need to speak to you about though. I found some earth disturbed the other night, clear footprints in the area. This isn’t the first time. Kate always had issues with kids hanging about the gardens after dark. The little swines even left their beer cans scattered over the place.

  “Could they be at it again?”

  “I guess so. I’ll keep an eye out.”

  “You do that and let me know if you find anything. We can’t be too careful. Kate’s sister was murdered, and now they think Kate’s own death may have been suspicious.”

  Luca paled. “I’ll pop round each morning over the next few days and have a quick look at the place.”

  “Thanks. It makes my blood boil thinking of them drinking and laughing in a dead woman’s garden.”

  ◆◆◆

  Just before seven o’clock, Grace took one last look at her reflection in the long freestanding mirror, picked up her small bag and headed downstairs. She was wearing one of her new dresses. The short-sleeved raspberry bodice fit snugly and flared from the waist into a ballerina skirt. The soft material brushed against her legs as she walked, and the knee-length hem flipped and swayed each time she moved.

  Used as she was to neutral, classic outfits and masculine-cut work suits, Grace felt feminine and... well... carefree. Though God only knew how that could even be possible with what she had been faced with recently. Kate’s death had been shocking enough, but now that it was said to be a possible murder—along with Harriet’s brutal killing...? Any problems Grace thought she had—and she included Carter in this—faded into insignificance. She shivered as she recalled Le Claire’s words that she might end up a target as well.

  If Grace was going to be honest, part of her current attitude had to do with Sam. The night before had been a revelation. Sam’s interaction with his friends had shown Grace a fun, caring side to him that she hadn’t previously seen. They had forgotten their troubles and laughed and joked, and there had been a moment back at the house when Grace had felt a connection between them; something crackled in the air, and she had thought Sam would kiss her again. But no. He had simply dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek and headed to his bedroom with a cheerful “goodnight.”

  Which was just as well, for the last thing Grace wanted was the complication of anything happening between them. She wasn’t looking for anyone, and Sam seemed happy in his bachelor life.

  Hopefully, James wouldn’t take her agreeing to go out with him as anything more than it was. Just a stranger in town taking up an offer of friendship and company. And with that, Grace headed to what she hoped would be a pleasant, uncomplicated evening.

  ◆◆◆

  James was already parked in the drive, standing by the passenger door of his Porsche, smart in casual dark linen trousers and an open-necked shirt. With a flourish, he bent low and opened the door, indicating for Grace to get in.

  “You look lovely.” Grace coloured at the compliment but nodded her head in thanks. Before she could slide into the passenger seat—why were these cars so near the ground?—a voice came from behind them.

  “James. Grace. Off out, are you?”

  Sam had come from the front gardens. He was wearing multi-coloured swimming shorts and nothing else. His hair was wet and tousled, and tiny droplets of water clung to his legs and chest—an extremely well-toned and muscled chest that Grace was desperately trying not to look at.

  It was James who answered, “Yes, for a bite to eat. I see you’ve been swimming. Having a quiet night?”

  “That’s the plan, with a couple of beers and a pizza on the agenda.”

  James grinned at Sam as he walked around to the driver’s seat. “Well, enjoy your evening. I’m certainly looking forward to mine.”

  ◆◆◆

  What an absolute idiot was Sam’s thought as his eyes tracked the car down the drive until it was out of sight. He’d felt out of sorts all day. There was a considerable amount on his mind at the moment. His actions over the last weeks and the forthcoming days would quite possibly determine the course of his entire future. He had to get Grace out of his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted, not when the solution to his problems was so close at hand.

  ◆◆◆

  James’s car sped along the coastal road, heading east. “I’ve booked a restaurant which overlooks a beautiful little bay. It isn’t one of my places, as I don’t want to be dragged into any work issues. I’m having a night off. It’s great food in a relaxed atmosphere, which is what I’m sure you could do with.”

  “That’s exactly what I need, James. It is really kind of you to take me out. The Averys have been wonderful, of course, but it is nice to have some different company.”

  “It’s my pleasure. I know what it’s like to be shunted onto the island and not know a soul.”

  “I thought you were born in Jersey. You did go to school with Sam, didn’t you?”

  “I was born in England, but my parents moved here when I was young, so I was schooled on the island.”

  “Jersey certainly looks like a great place to grow up.”

  “Anywhere can be fun if you have money. Jersey appears an affluent society, but that’s just on the surface. Those living on the edges of wealth experience a very different island.”

  “New York is exactly the same. Money does cushion us, but I have to say that what I’ve seen of the island hasn’t shown me a lot of poverty.”

  “Then you’ve not been looking in the right places, or I would guess it would be more accurate to say you haven’t been shown. We even have charities running food banks. There’s a cycle of poverty that is hard for people to escape—and the drugs, don’t get me started on that.”
>
  “I had no idea.”

  “Maybe I’ve exaggerated. There is also an issue with being on the fringe of affluence. You know, being part of it but never fitting in. Always having to worry about having the wrong blazer, the wrong shoes.” James laughed bitterly, shook his head and shot Grace a sheepish glance. “Wow, don’t know where that came from. You’re just easy to talk to, I guess.”

  With that, James turned the car off the main road and drove along a small, narrow lane that opened onto a picturesque bay. After pulling into the parking area, James jumped out and opened Grace’s door.

  They headed into a small wooden building with wide windows that overlooked the beach. The pale blue paint was immaculate, and tubs of vibrant lavender perfumed the air. Within moments, they were ensconced in a corner table right by the windows. They quickly ordered, James recommending the lobster for entrees.

  “Grace, once again, please accept my condolences about Harriet.

  “Thank you. Although, to my regret, Harriet was a stranger to me. Yes, we shared blood, but none of the brief conversations we had were particularly familial.”

  “Well, families interact differently, but I do know what you mean. I couldn’t help but overhear Harriet letting blast at you and the Averys last Sunday.”

  Grace’s quick bark of laughter matched the wryness in her voice. “I think the whole restaurant heard her.” Her chest tightened with guilt for talking about the deceased woman in this way, but it was the truth.

  James hesitated, his lips pressed tight together as if wondering whether to continue. “Well, after her kicking off at the funeral—again, quite a few people heard her verbally attacking Paul Armstrong—I guess Harriet was never going to take any slight, however well deserved, lying down. I don’t think anyone could hear what she was saying at the funeral, but it was pretty hard to miss at the restaurant. She was obviously really cut up about being left out of the will and seemed enraged that it was all going to you and Sam.”