She takes it from me. “How thoughtful.”
“I felt bad for you,” I murmur, “after our conversation about Valerie. You must feel very sad, and I wanted to cheer you up.”
“You could have just dropped it off at the jewellery shop,” she says. Her eyes meet mine, cautious, shrewd.
“We had it in the car and we were out for a drive,” Arthur says. “So we thought we’d drop it in.”
“How did you know where I lived?” She looks up and down the road. I’m not sure if she’s checking to see if any neighbours are watching, or if she’s expecting someone.
“James told us,” I say, starting to feel uncomfortable. “I am sorry if you feel it’s an intrusion.”
Her smile returns. “Not at all, I was surprised, that’s all. It was a lovely gesture, thank you.”
“Okay, well, we’ll be off now.” I slide my hand into Arthur’s, and we wave goodbye and head back to the car.
“That was close,” Arthur says as I pull away. “I got the feeling she didn’t believe us.”
“Me too.” I head back down the country lane, relieved to be away. “I suppose it was a bit odd, dropping the book off. But plausible.”
“I thought so.” He gives Merlin’s head a rub as the dog sticks it between our seats. “Shall I look for Valerie and Leah’s addresses?”
“Yes, please. Hopefully they’ll be on there this time.”
He pulls out his phone and taps the keys carefully. “Success this time,” he announces. “Valerie Hopkins-Brown, Windmill Hill Road.” He reads out the number.
“That’s not far. We’ll go there next.”
He looks up Leah Perry. “She’s here, too. Flat C, 29 Hawkins Terrace.”
“A flat?” I frown. “She’s unlikely to have a garden, then. But we’ll check it out to make sure.”
I drive the short distance through the Somerset countryside. The road runs around a central park with a cluster of horse chestnut trees. I pull the car up a few spaces down from Valerie’s house, put on the handbrake, and turn off the engine.
I glance in the rear-view mirror, and inhale sharply. On the back seat, next to Merlin, sits the woman in white.
I whip my head around, but only Merlin is there, staring at the space where Valerie was sitting.
“She was here,” I tell Arthur. “Sitting right there.”
He twists around to look over at the back seat. “Was that a warning? Or just because we’re at her house?”
“I don’t know.” My heart is hammering, but not just because I’ve seen Valerie’s ghost. Arthur is now close to me, the line of his jaw, showing a touch of stubble, only inches away. It would be oh-so-easy to lean forward and press my lips to his, lift his sweater and slide my hands beneath it, onto his warm skin. It’s such an overwhelming desire that it shocks me.
His gaze comes back to me, his blue eyes the colour of the spring sky. His gaze drops to my mouth, and I know he’s thinking about kissing me, too. I hold my breath as he lowers his head toward me.
A rap on the window makes us both jump, and I spin around, half-expecting to see Valerie outside, cross that we’ve let ourselves be distracted from solving her murder. But it’s not Valerie.
It’s Matthew Hopkins.
I grit my teeth. “What does he want?” I open the car door, and Matthew steps back as I get out. Arthur gets out, too, and opens the passenger door. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Merlin jump down and trot off.
“What are you doing here?” Matthew demands.
“Good morning,” I say as pleasantly as I can. “How are you?”
His gaze slides to Arthur as he comes around the car to stand beside me. Arthur leans on the car door casually, one hand in his pocket, but he’s near enough to me to make his point—Matthew isn’t to come any closer.
“I said, what are you doing here?” Matthew repeats.
“We came to pay our respects to Bradley,” I reply.
“He doesn’t want to see anyone,” Matthew states. “So you can go now.”
I fold my arms, trying not to let him intimidate me. “I’m surprised to see you here. I didn’t think you and Valerie were on speaking terms.”
He looks away then, across the park, and he’s unable to stop the emotion that flickers on his face. Her death has affected him—of course it has. She was his sister.
I reach out a hand and rest it on his upper arm. “I’m very sorry,” I say quietly. “This must be extremely hard for you.”
He looks down at my hand. “We hadn’t spoken for ten years.” His voice is gruff.
“I’m sure that she knew you loved her, despite your differences.”
He lifts his gaze back to me. His eyes are dark blue, almost grey, like the colour of a stormy sky. He’s a handsome man, but there’s something about him that makes my skin crawl. A memory flashes through my mind of the moment when he kissed me, and without thinking, I take a step back.
His brow darkens. “I want you to go,” he snaps. “Bradley doesn’t want to see anyone.”
“That’s not for you to say,” I reply, but he’s growing angry, his hands clenching into fists.
“Just leave,” he yells, “or I’ll call the police!”
“Come on.” Arthur rests a hand on my back. “Let’s go.”
I’m reluctant, because I haven’t yet seen Valerie’s garden, and I’m desperate to stop her ghost showing up, but Matthew’s menacing expression makes me back away, and I get into the car. Arthur turns as Merlin runs up, and he opens the back door to let the dog jump in before getting in himself. I pull away, leaving Matthew’s face in the mirror behind me.
I blow out a long breath. Arthur reaches out and takes my free hand.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“I’m just annoyed that we didn’t get a look at the garden,” I tell him.
“We did. Merlin ran around it.”
I look in my rear-view mirror at the dog, whose tongue lolls out as if he’s laughing.
“He says she had foxgloves on one side, by the wall.”
“Are you sure?” I ask the dog. “I don’t mean to doubt you, but how do you know?”
“As Taliesin, he studied herbs and flowers,” Arthur says. “He was a druid, as well as a bard.”
My mouth forms an O. “I didn’t realize.”
“He trained on the Isle of Avalon. There was a school there for both witches and druids. They taught the healing arts, and other disciplines like history, music, and poetry. He’s ten times smarter than me.” Arthur looks over his shoulder at the dog. “But I have opposable thumbs, so I think that makes me superior.”
Merlin snorts and lies down on the back seat, and we both laugh.
“You two,” I scold. “But thank you, Merlin, for finding that out for us.”
“So Valerie’s and Fenella’s houses have foxgloves, but Nancy’s doesn’t,” Arthur comments. “I wonder what Leah will have?”
“We’ll find out in a minute.” I signal to take the turning into town.
It only takes us about five minutes to reach Hawkins Terrace. It’s just off the high street, a row of tall terraced houses, many of which have been divided into apartments. Number twenty-nine looks just like the others—the door opens straight onto the road, with no front garden. When we get out and walk down a back alley to peer over the fence, we see that the back yard is mainly concreted with a small lawn, a bench, and an array of pot plants, none of which contain foxgloves.
“So Leah doesn’t have them close by either,” I say as we get back in the car. “But of course, it doesn’t mean she didn’t do it. She could easily have picked them wild, or from someone else’s garden.”
I sigh and start the engine. “It’s getting late. Time to go home. I’ll call Immi tonight and tell her what we’ve found out. I can’t imagine it’ll be much help.”
“You never know.”
“No.” I smile at him. “What would you like for dinner tonight? I’ll cook you anything you fancy.”
&n
bsp; “Pizza,” he says. “I’ve heard so much about it, and I’m desperate to try it.”
I laugh. “All right. Pizza it is.”
Chapter Twenty
Arthur watches while I make the pizza dough and form it into two circles on baking trays. I add some tomato paste and dried Italian mixed herbs. Then I retrieve a variety of possible toppings from the fridge, and we add what we want to our pizzas.
Arthur tastes everything first, from anchovies and capers to salami and mozzarella cheese. Max was right: he does like meat, and creates his own meat feast pizza with the salami, strips of ham, piles of cooked chicken, and a sliced chorizo sausage. I go more for vegetables with mushrooms, sweetcorn, and onions, and we top both of them with a homemade barbecue sauce. Then we put them in the oven and set the timer.
“So the only thing I’ve found that you don’t like is whisky,” I say as I pour kibble into Merlin’s bowl and add a raw egg. As a treat, I tip in the leftover chicken, and Merlin does a tap dance on the tiles as I put the dish down.
“It tasted like the earth,” Arthur says.
“That’s because it was an Islay malt.”
“Eye-lah?”
“That’s how it’s pronounced; it’s spelled I-s-l-a-y. It’s an island off the west coast of Scotland. The smoky flavour comes from the peat in the area. It’s an acquired taste. You might prefer something like a Glenfiddich.” I open the cupboard beside the sink and take out a bottle.
I retrieve a tray of ice cubes from the freezer. Arthur watches with fascination as I twist it and tip out two cubes into each glass. “And it stores food, too,” he says, looking into the freezer and studying the chicken breasts, packets of mince, and ice cream inside. “How amazing.”
“One of mankind’s better inventions.” I pour some whisky over the ice and add a splash of water. Then I slide a glass over to him. “The Glenfiddich is more fruity, with a touch of pear, and sweet too, like butterscotch.”
He takes a cautious sip. Then another. His eyes meet mine and he runs his tongue over his teeth. “Better than the Islay,” he says.
“I think so.” I smile. “I’m going to give Immi a quick ring before dinner’s ready.”
“All right. I’ll have a read.” Picking up his whisky, he leaves the room.
I watch him walk away, blowing out a breath as I admire his broad shoulders and slim hips before he disappears around the corner, then pick up my phone and dial Imogen’s number.
“DCI Hobbs,” she answers. She’s still at work.
“It’s me,” I say. “Are you busy?”
“Yes, but I’m happy to take five,” she replies. “I’ll get a cup of coffee.” I hear her move back her chair and imagine her walking out of her office and down to the kitchen in the station. “How are you doing?” she asks.
“Yes, good thanks. Arthur and I have done a little investigating, and I thought I’d pass on what we found out.”
“Absolutely. Go for it.”
So I summarize the day’s events, explaining how we discovered foxgloves in Fenella’s and Valerie’s gardens, but none in Nancy’s, and that Leah lived in a flat. “I know it’s not conclusive,” I add. “Obviously they could have got them from someone else’s garden. But it’s a start.”
“It is.” There are clinking noises as she stirs coffee in a mug, and then footsteps again as she returns to her office. “I’m trying to work out how she imbibed the substance. I presume it was in food or drink. She’d eaten cereal and milk with blueberries and a banana for breakfast that morning, with lemon, ginger, and honey tea. I’m getting everything tested.”
“Was the tea in teabags?”
“Yes, and the packet was opened. Maybe the flowers were ground up in there. We’ll find out soon. By the way, I found out something else today. I went to see Mary Paxton.”
My eyebrows rise. “Why?”
“Instinct. You’ll never guess what. She has a triquetra tattoo on her wrist.”
That does shock me. “Did you ask her about it?”
“I did, but she refused to talk about it. I’ve also asked the others, but they’re very tight-lipped.”
“Hmm.”
“I thought maybe you could do some research,” she says. “See if you come across anything.”
“Of course.” I feel pleased that she wants my help. “By the way,” I add, “I ran into Matthew Hopkins today. That wasn’t pleasant.”
“What an obnoxious man. I hope you put him in his place.”
“I backed away carefully. Arthur was with me. He doesn’t like Matthew.”
She laughs. “I’m not surprised. So… how’s it going with you two?”
I smile. “Very well.”
“He’s still staying with you?”
“He is. In the spare room, I feel I should point out.”
“It’s none of my business,” she says. “But tell me everything.”
I chuckle. “I told him I need time before we… you know… let our relationship develop. I mean, he’s gorgeous, and I really like him, but I’ve only known him two days!”
“I suppose to him it seems a lot longer.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.” I push a small stone on the floor with the toe of my slipper. “Do you think I’m crazy? I know it’s not a problem nowadays to sleep with a guy on a first date. We women are supposed to be liberated. But this isn’t just a fling, or at least I hope it isn’t. I want to do it right.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Imogen replies. “He doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who’ll look elsewhere if you don’t fall into bed with him immediately. And if he does, he’s not worth it anyway.”
“Good point.”
“Has he kissed you?”
“Not yet. We’ve come close a couple of times, but something has always interrupted us.”
“Do you want to kiss him?”
“Goddess, yes!”
She laughs at my vehement reply. “It’ll happen when it’s supposed to. He only has eyes for you, Gwen. Just do what comes naturally, what feels right. It doesn’t matter if takes a day, a month, or a year for things to happen, as long as you feel happy and safe and comfortable with him.”
I smile, wishing she was here so I could give her a hug. “You’re such a sweetie. How about you and Christian? How are things going there?”
“He walked me home last night. We had the best smoochy kiss I’ve ever had in my life.”
I laugh. “I’m so glad to hear that. Where did he kiss you?”
“On the mouth.”
“I meant where geographically?”
“Oh, sorry, on the porch. I didn’t ask him in. Like you, I don’t want to fast track this. But I was tempted. He’s a great kisser. He even took off his glasses.”
“Wow, that shows dedication.”
“Doesn’t it?” She sighs. “He was holding my hands at first, and then he lifted a hand to my face and slipped it into my hair… It was pretty damn good.”
“I’m so green it’s like I’m made of chlorophyll.”
She gives a girlish giggle. “Well when your first kiss happens, I expect to hear all about it.”
“You’ll hear the sirens because I’ll have passed out from lack of oxygen,” I tell her. “I can barely breathe when I’m sitting a few inches from him in the car, let alone if he were to kiss me.”
I look up, and to my shock Arthur’s standing in the doorway. He’s not looking at me, though, he’s waiting for Merlin to follow him, and when he turns, he doesn’t give any indication that he heard what I said.
I swallow hard. “Gotta go.”
“Oops. Is he there? Did he hear you?”
“Possibly. Speak to you later.”
“Good luck!” She hangs up.
I leave the phone on the table and go over to the oven as Arthur lets Merlin into the garden. “Pizzas are nearly done,” I call, my voice a squeak.
“They smell amazing.” He smiles. Is there a twinkle in his eye or am I imagining it?
But he
still doesn’t say anything, and I let the moment pass. He retrieves some plates, and I toss a few green leaves in some dressing and bring that to the table. Then, as the timer goes, I take out the pizzas. I divide them with the pizza cutter, slide them onto the plates, and bring them to the table.
“Wow.” Arthur watches me sit and pick up a piece. “No knives and forks?”
“If you want, but most people eat pizza with their fingers.”
“Excellent.” He lifts a piece and bites into it. “Magnificent,” he says, his eyes meeting mine.
Is he still talking about the pizza? I’m sure I can see a glimmer of humour in his eyes.
“You overheard me, didn’t you?” I say.
He has another bite of the pizza. “Might have.”
Heat fills my face. “I’m sorry.”
He laughs. “What about?”
“I don’t know. I’m embarrassed.”
He smiles. “I can see that. You shouldn’t be.”
“I was asking Immi about her date with Christian, and she mentioned that he kissed her, that’s all, and then she asked if we’ve kissed, and, well, you heard the rest.”
He leans on the table and meets my eyes. “You told me you needed time,” he says gently.
“I know. I do.”
“That’s the only reason I haven’t kissed you yet.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I’ve thought about it a lot,” he says. “Just so you know.”
I laugh and poke at an olive on my pizza. “Me too.”
“We’ll know when it’s time,” he says. “And until then, I’m enjoying the anticipation.”
I look up at him again and lose the power to breathe at the desire in his eyes. He’s right. The anticipation is delicious, like making the best chocolate cake you’ve ever baked, and knowing you’re going to have a piece at the end of the day.
“So Christian kissed her,” Arthur says, having another bite of pizza. “Glad to hear it.”
“She really likes him. She hasn’t dated anyone for several years.”
“Why not?”
“She went out with a guy when she first became a police officer. His name was Kevin. They lived together for about five years. I really thought they were going to get married, have kids, the whole thing. But one day she came home and found him in bed with someone else.”
A Knight on the Town Page 14