Killed With a Kiss

by Fiona Grace

  “Well, well, well,” came the cheery voice of Colin. “If it isn’t Lacey! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again.”

  Just from his voice, Lacey could tell he was grinning, and that she’d made his day by calling him. Too bad she was going to crush him when she revealed this wasn’t a social call, but because she suspected him of being a thief, and possibly even a killer. But needs must.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to meet for a coffee?” she said, feeling her pulse pounding in her ears.

  “Really? I thought you’d never ask,” Colin commented. “I’d love to. When are you free?”

  “Now?” Lacey suggested, forcing a cordial voice through her clenched teeth.

  On the other end of the line, Colin paused. Then he started to chuckle. “I can do now,” he said, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.

  Lacey grimaced, just imagining his smarmy smile. She quickly wracked her brains for a suitable location to meet. The chances of her being seen by someone she knew on the main street or promenade was too high. Luckily, a few stores had recently opened up on a street that branched off the promenade road, probably thanks in part by the increased footfall from people staying at the Lodge and heading into town, and the small cafe beside the balloon store seemed a safer bet. “I know a cute little place off the beaten path. It’s new. It’s called Rosie’s.”

  “Rosie’s. Got it.”

  “I’ll be there in five.”

  *

  Lacey entered Rosie’s to find Colin had beaten her to it. He was sitting at the window table, Stella asleep under the table beside his feet. The dog roused her sleepy head at the sound of Lacey’s approach.

  “You found the place okay?” Lacey asked nervously as she shucked off her jacket. “I know it’s a little off the beaten track.”

  Colin stood and kissed her cheek. Lacey stiffened.

  “It’s just like the place we went to in Weymouth,” he commented.

  Lacey glanced around. He was right. It had similar floral curtains. The same style of white bistro tables. Colin probably thought she’d chosen it to make some kind of romantic gesture.

  She slung her jacket over the back of the opposite seat and sat, grabbing the menu so she’d have something to look at other than Colin’s penetrating gaze. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look him in the eye, considering what he might have done.

  “I’m guessing you heard the news about Hugh,” Colin said, sounding straightforward and emotionless.

  Lacey’s gaze darted over the menu in surprise. Would a guilty person really bring up the topic of conversation immediately? Or was he bringing it up to give her a false sense of security?

  “I did,” she managed to say.

  Colin let out a mournful sigh. “How are you coping?”

  Lacey was a little surprised to hear someone be concerned for her well-being. Obviously she had no real connection to the victim, but the murder of anyone local caused shock waves. The people of Wilfordshire used gossip as a coping strategy, and since it was often directed at her, Lacey often found herself alone in her feelings. It felt nice to know someone actually cared.

  “I’m okay,” she confessed, feeling her defenses starting to drop. “A bit shaken. I was the one who found him.”

  “Oh goodness,” Colin replied, sounding dumbfounded. “That’s so dreadful. How come?”

  “The mix-up over the auction,” Lacey explained. “I thought there was a chance that Oxana had engineered the whole thing with the internet dropping out, and went over to see if he’d accept the bid amount he put in if I nullified her sale. Chester alerted me to him.”

  “Clever boy,” Colin said, looking at the dog at her feet.

  Just then, the waitress came over. She looked high school age to Lacey. She was probably earning a bit of summer holiday spending money.

  She gave them a small, shy smile and tucked a strand of strawberry blond hair behind her ear. “Can I take your orders?”

  Colin gestured to Lacey politely. She was just about to answer when her attention was diverted by someone passing by the window outside. She turned, and her eyes met none other than Tom’s.

  A bolt of shock went through her. What was he doing here, in this place off the main road? She’d specifically chosen it to avoid this situation!

  Tom looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then he gave her a small wave, before jamming his hands in his pockets and striding away.

  “Just a black Americano,” Lacey said hypnotically, watching Tom’s retreating figure through the window.

  “Just an Americano?” Colin repeated in a jokey voice. “Is that all? Last date we had Dorset apple traybake and macchiatos.”

  “It wasn’t a date,” Lacey corrected. She couldn’t stop herself. She felt mortified. Seeing Tom like that had rattled her. Suddenly, this didn’t seem like a good idea at all.

  Colin looked a little surprised by her interruption. The blonde waitress looked at her feet uncomfortably.

  “Ah,” he said, folding the menu and handing it back to the young waitress. He gave her a polite smile. “Make that two black Americanos.”

  The girl took his menu and shuffled away shyly.

  The moment she was gone, Colin looked at Lacey, his head tipped to the side curiously. “So. What’s this all about then? Since we’re clearly not on a date.”

  “I’m seeing someone,” Lacey blurted.

  “Okay…” Colin replied. “And you invited me to coffee because…”

  Lacey wracked her brains for a suitable excuse. “Because I wanted to talk to someone about Hugh.”

  Colin frowned. “And your partner isn’t a suitable person to talk with?”

  He looked put out. Lacey had to admit that was understandable. She’d thought she’d be able to keep up the ruse, but seeing Tom had changed her mind.

  In response to Lacey’s silence, Colin continued. “So I did misread the signals between us after all? In which case, I should apologize. It must have been wishful thinking on my part, to see chemistry when there was none.”

  His maturity took Lacey by surprise. She’d been expecting him to be rude about being led on. Instead, he was apologizing to her!

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Lacey told him.

  “Really?” Colin mused. “I tried to kiss a taken woman. I pursued her across Dorset, then followed her all the way to her auction.”

  Lacey was stunned. So Colin hadn’t come to buy the statue? He’d come to see her?

  “But you wanted it in Weymouth,” she said. “We both ended up at the art store on the cherry tree street.”

  “I followed you,” Colin replied. “I’d never even heard of Isidore Bonheur. I just wanted a reason to spend time with you.”

  Lacey was stunned. Colin hadn’t stolen the statue—he didn’t even care about it! All along, him hanging around the fringes had been about one thing, and one thing only. Her.

  “Lacey?” Colin asked. “Are you okay?”

  “Sorry. Yes. I… I just don’t know what to say.”

  She was completely taken aback.

  But more than just the efforts Colin had gone in his romantic pursual of her was the fact he couldn’t be the thief, because he’d just admitted he had no interest in the statue after all.

  Unless he was lying to shed suspicion, of course. Though he seemed genuine, Lacey wasn’t prepared to completely dismiss him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  After speaking with Colin, Lacey felt compelled to see Tom and explain everything that had been going on. It felt like a secret she was keeping from him, something shameful. She had not done anything wrong, indeed she would never do such a thing to Tom, but it felt that by not telling him she was making it somehow much worse.

  She drove back to the store, parking in the side alleyway before crossing the street to the patisserie, Chester at her side.

  She entered the store and looked over at the till. But instead of Tom, the till was being operated by a tall, dark-skinned young m
an with sparkling brown eyes.

  Lacey was astonished. The stranger was wearing a uniform. He was clearly a new employee.

  “Where is Tom?” she asked him, her eyes grazing over his name tag: Emmanuel.

  “Mr. Forrester is on a break,” Emmanuel told her politely, in a warm Kenyan accent.

  “A break?” Lacey exclaimed. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Tom?” She couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken a break.

  Emmanuel chuckled. “Can I help at all? I’ve been trained on the coffee machine, and we have a selection of croissants, cakes, and sandwiches.”

  He was doing a good job, especially considering this was his first day. Possibly even his first hour.

  Lacey shook her head. “No. I’m good, thanks. Can you tell Tom that Lacey stopped by?”

  “Ah!” Emmanuel exclaimed with excitement. “You’re Lacey? The Lacey?”

  “The Lacey?” she replied, laughing. “That makes me sound like a celebrity. I’m Tom’s girlfriend. Partner. Whatever you want to call it.”

  “But you look so young!” Emmanuel exclaimed.

  It was an odd comment. Tom was only three years older than her, and had a pretty youthful way about him. It wasn’t like there was an obviously huge difference between them. Maybe something had gotten a little lost in translation. Emmanuel was probably just trying to be nice.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lacey said, a little bemused.

  She headed out, wondering why Tom had failed to tell her he was hiring a new staff member. Sure, there was busy, but then there was just not being bothered enough to communicate. Had Tom gone off her?

  As she crossed the bustling street, weaving her way through the crowds, her phone started to ring. Lacey grabbed it, hoping it was DCI Lewis telling her Turner had dropped his investigation into her. But instead, she saw it was her mom.

  Lacey hesitated, not sure she was able to handle her mother right now, before hitting the green button.

  “Mom? Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, of course. I wanted to see what you wanted for your birthday.”

  Oh. That. It had slipped her mind. Or maybe she’d let it slip her mind because she didn’t want it to happen.

  “Nothing, Mom,” Lacey said, as she shimmied around a group of men in suits drinking ale from glass tankards. “I’m a grown woman now. I don’t need gifts.”

  “Tom said you’d say that.”

  Lacey frowned. “You’ve spoken to Tom?” She knew the two of them became bosom buddies on holiday, but it still seemed odd to her they were in telephone contact.

  “Yes. I hear from him more often than I do my own daughter! I can’t even remember the last time you called me.”

  “Why were you talking to Tom?” Lacey asked, ignoring her mom’s woeful monologue. She was much more interested in what the two of them were discussing behind her back.

  “Nothing,” Shirley replied abruptly. “Just chitchat.”

  Lacey narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t convinced. But it did make her feel better in a way. Tom wouldn’t be making chitchat with his mom if he’d gone off her, would he? But then she remembered David’s brunch dates with her mom and immediately scrapped that. Just because they were friendly, didn’t mean he still cared.

  “Mom, I need to go,” Lacey said, finally having popped out of the crowd onto her side of the street. She noticed the donkey poster still stuck in her window. “If you want to do anything for me, you can make a donation to the local donkey sanctuary.”

  “Donkey sanctuary?” Shirley repeated, sounding completely bemused. “Honestly, Lacey, sometimes I feel like I hardly know who you are.”

  “Bye, Mom,” Lacey said.

  She headed into the antiques store. Chester hurried in first, rushing up to Boudica with so much excitement you’d think they’d not seen one another in days rather than hours.

  But as the door closed behind Lacey, she realized she was standing in a deserted store. There wasn’t a single customer perusing the shelves inside. Far from that first day when the rich horsey folk had almost entirely cleaned out her supply of retro lamps, the shelves were still brimming as if nothing had been touched all day.

  “Because they haven’t,” Lacey said aloud, her shoulders slumping with the realization that news of Hugh’s death must have reached the tourists. Of course they were now steering clear of her store. They must think she was involved.

  “Gina?” Lacey called out, glumly. “Where are you?”

  There was no answer. It was yet more evidence of the lack of customers. Gina didn’t normally leave Boudica to keep an eye on things in the same way Lacey did with Chester. Boudica was less inclined to raise her head from her nap at the sound of the bell, making her a pretty bad bell.

  Lacey went round the counter, noticing the light on her retro answering machine was blinking. She hit the button. The voice of a woman came out.

  “My name is Ciara Oliviera. I recently attended your auction and won a pair of silver phoenix spurs. In light of what’s happened, I’ve decided to pull out of the sale. I understand my ten percent down payment is non-refundable, and I will not be making the final ninety-percent payment installment.”

  Lacey dropped her head into her hands. Perfect. That was just what she needed; an empty shop and a lost sale.

  But the machine wasn’t done yet. The next message began. “This is Dustin Powell,” a man’s voice said. “I’m calling to cancel my order of military riding boots I won in your auction,” and was swiftly followed by a lady, “Sabine Jardin, calling to cancel my order.”

  Cancel my order. Cancel my order. Lacey heard the same words over and over again, each one feeling more crushing than the last. The fact that the rich horsey people hadn’t even come into the store to cancel in person spoke volumes—they were too scared to, and keeping a wide berth. Instead, her machine was full of cancelled orders. It was a disaster. Lacey had put so much money into that stock, and it had to sell specifically to this niche crowd. Any stock left over would sit for a whole year, losing her money.

  Lacey jotted down each name, her heart pounding with disappointment. But as her list grew, her mind shifted gears, switching from focusing on herself and her auction back to Hugh’s murder. What if one of these names she’d listed was the killer? Could someone else among the auction attendees be the thief and murderer? Perhaps someone who dropped out of the running for the Isidore Bonheur much sooner in the race than Hugh and Oxana, much sooner than Colin even?

  Of course none of them followed the kiss theory, but maybe it didn’t need to. Gina might’ve been right all along, that it was far-fetched to think the two X’s were anything more than random marks made by a flailing man in the throes of death.

  She grabbed her cell and fired off a message to Gabe.

  Can you do me a favor? I need to know everyone who bid on the Isidore Bonheur. Is there a way you can find that for me?

  Somewhere in his reams of data from several different machines there was surely some way for Gabe to extract the information she needed.

  Her phone pinged.

  Yup. Gimme a sec.

  Lacey smiled.

  Just then, she heard a noise coming from the back garden. She stood and headed out through the auction room, seeing that the French doors were standing open. It wasn’t often that Lacey had much reason to go into the garden. Her plan to use it for outdoor furniture hadn’t yet come to fruition, and Gina had taken it over ever since her garden became overrun with lambs. Apparently an allotment was big enough for her to get her gardening fix.

  As expected, Lacey discovered Gina clattering around in the greenhouse.

  Lacey slid open the door, and a wall of humid air came wafting out at her. She slipped through the gap.

  “There you are,” she said to Gina’s back.

  Gina jumped a mile and swirled on the spot. Her hair was pulled off her sweaty face and secured in a bun. Her cheeks were red.

  “Lacey. You gave me a fright,” she sa
id. She looked very guilty.

  “Sorry,” Lacey said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “I did call for you.”

  “I had the door closed,” Gina said, her carefree tone sounding distinctly forced to Lacey.

  “I know. It’s like a sauna in here! What are you up to?” She peered past Gina’s shoulder, trying to get a look at what she was up to. All she could see was a box of pretty pink bell flowers.

  “Just boxing these up,” Gina said hurriedly. She pushed a fly away off her face with her gardening-gloved hand, leaving a muddy streak.

  “Who are they for?” Lacey asked.

  “Just a new client,” Gina replied, flippantly.

  After landscaping the lawns at the Lodge, Gina had found her gardening services in sudden high demand and had taken on a couple of other interested business owners over the summer—she’d made hanging baskets for a bland office block, had neatened up the outside space of a pub, and had even lent her expertise and green thumb to the local hospital. Lacey wasn’t sure where her evasiveness was coming from; if she had a new client that was great news! And she knew she was more than welcome to use the greenhouse for her side business. Lacey had no problem with it at all. In fact, she’d encouraged it, buying her that hydroponic system as a gift and loaning her the use of the greenhouses at the store. It wasn’t like Lacey was about to get her hands muddy, after all!

  “A new client?” Lacey asked, feeling excited for her friend. “That’s great. Well done, Gina. Is it anyone I know?” She was digging now, but it wasn’t like Gina to be tight-lipped about anything.

  “Just a bride,” Gina replied, flippantly. “A one-off. Nothing special. She might not even decide to use me.”

  “I see,” Lacey said. She understood now why Gina was playing her cards close to her chest. She just didn’t want to get her hopes up over a job that might not come to anything. Lacey knew all too well what it felt like when a good deal slipped through your fingers. Indeed, she had an entire answering machine full of such bitter disappointments. She decided to stop prodding. Gina was quite clearly sensitive about it.