Cactus remained resolutely in her lap, refusing to budge. He hadn’t even attempted to steal a sip of her tea or a bite of toast. She gently massaged his head and ears.
“We seem to have wandered into yet another mystery.” Motts glanced down at Cactus when he meowed loudly. “Agreed. A second snack is in order. We’re going to need a distraction if your aunties and uncle descend on the cottage at the same time.”
To her surprise, Hughie returned with only one person. He was carrying a tray. Marnie followed behind him; she immediately came over to offer Motts a hug, which she graciously turned onto Cactus when Motts waved her off. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Motts peered curiously at the covered tray. “What’d you bring?”
“Cake,” Hughie answered for Marnie. He lifted the lid off and offered one of the brightly coloured citrusy treats. “Think she made a bastardised version of the Maria Luisa cake.”
“He’s been watching Bake Off again,” Marnie teased.
When his phone rang, Hughie set the tray down on the coffee table and stepped outside to answer. Marnie and Motts both stayed quiet, trying to listen in to whatever update he was getting.
Hughie rolled his eyes knowingly at them when he stepped into the cottage. He pocketed his phone. “We’ve called in Detective Inspector Herceg from the cold case unit in Plymouth.”
“Cold case?” Motts ignored Cactus who’d leapt up into her arms. “How? I found the body a few hours ago in the sea.”
“We’ve identified the body already. The victim disappeared three years ago. I shouldn’t be telling you this without DI Ash’s permission.”
“How did a person who went missing three years ago wind up in the sea today?” Marnie’s question echoed the one in Motts’s mind. “It’s highly unlikely to have been bashing about in the sea for so long only to suddenly appear now.”
Motts agreed with her assessment. She’d seen enough of the body to think the person had been killed within the past twenty-four hours—not years ago. “Who were they?”
“Can’t say.” Hughie shook his head and cut Marnie off with a mock stern glare. “My lips are sealed. You can ask your husband. He’s on his way.”
Steeling herself to deal with loads of people, Motts went into the kitchen to start the kettle. She pulled down her mismatched mugs. Inspector Ash wouldn’t be the only person to descend on her cottage.
Given the time of day, Griffin Brews, the coffee shop run by Nish, Vina, and their parents, wouldn’t be too busy. The twins would come running to check on her, probably with food. Their mum, Leena, always wanted to feed everyone.
Must be a mum thing. Everyone’s mum always seems convinced none of us knows how to feed ourselves.
Of everyone in the village, Motts had known the Griffins the longest. She’d met them years ago when she’d come on holiday with her parents. Her mum and dad had originally come from Cornwall, and they’d spent many vacations all along the coast over the years.
Cadan Griffin had met his wife in India when he’d been a dashing Cornish-Indian cricket player, and she’d turned his head as a glamorous Bollywood star. They’d returned to his mum’s hometown to open their bakery. Their twins, Pravina and Anish, had become instant friends with Motts when they’d met as children.
Never imagined years later we’d be ex-girlfriends turned into best friends living in the same village.
Faced with yet another murder mystery.
At least this one wasn’t buried in my garden.
“I best get back to the shop.” Marnie interrupted her thoughts. She was pocketing her phone while she got to her feet. “Take your time with the cakes. I’ve plenty of those trays. My mum-in-law keeps finding them for me. Why she thinks I need thirty of the blasted things, I’ll never know.”
“Marnie.”
“You just settle in for a cosy afternoon.” Marnie inched towards the door.
“Marnie.” Motts had to carefully set her tea down and dislodge Cactus before racing after her friend. She caught up to Marnie as she opened the door. “Well, hello, you three.”
Vina dragged her into a hug, sending a poof of flour into the air. “We rushed from the café.”
“I can tell.” Motts pushed her away, then brushed off the dusting of white on her arms. “Maybe a change of clothes before you rush over to invade my space?”
“Rude. Ungrateful wretch.” River eased between them, dragging Nish, his boyfriend of several months, behind him. “And here we all abandoned work at the drop of a hat for you.”
“You love us despite our mess.” Vina had dusted off the flour and gathered her long black hair into a loose bun. Motts turned as she went to follow River and Nish toward the kitchen. “My brother and your cousin have reached the disgusting sweet nothing stage of their relationship. You should’ve heard them on the drive up to the cottage.”
“Says the woman who stayed up until half ‘not even coffee will help her wake up’ in the morning.” Nish glared over his shoulder at his sister. “She was muttering in French with her girlfriend.”
“Does Vina know French?”
“Enough to make Amma blush.” Nish dodged away from Vina when she lunged at him. “What? Am I wrong?”
“You are incredibly wrong.” Vina straightened her stylish jumper. “He’s been insufferable all day. Maybe someone switched his coffee for espresso.”
“Is this what sex does to people?” Motts wrinkled her nose at the bubblier-than-normal Nish. She was glad at times like this to be asexual; she could enjoy romance without the dramatics and unnecessary noises. “Don’t see the attraction.”
The good-natured banter lasted until tea was poured, cakes were distributed, and seats had been found in the living room. Motts had retreated to an armchair with Cactus curled up beside her. Nish and River crowded into the other one, while Vina stretched out on the sofa like a princess on a chaise lounge.
Motts sipped her tea and pointedly avoided the not so subtle gazes sent her way. While she might not be brilliant at assessing body language or facial expression, the worry and sympathy was practically a living, breathing being in the room. She hated it.
“Have you messaged Teo?” River moved over to sit on the arm of her chair.
“He might be busy.” Motts disliked being the first person to reach out—even via text, and even with family or Teo. “He’s investigating. I’ve no doubt I’m on the list of people to talk to, since I found the body.”
Again. Another body. I’m running quite a tally. Three dead bodies in one lifetime.
“Text him, Motts.” River nudged her gently. “He’ll be here before long and probably wonder why you didn’t reach out to him when it happened.”
“Will he?”
“Definitely,” River promised.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t.” Motts briefly met her cousin’s gaze before turning her eyes back to Cactus, who purred contentedly. “Why?”
“It’s a weird neurotypical thing. Just trust me. He’ll worry if you don’t text.” River grabbed her mobile from the coffee table and handed it over. “Just say you’re home safe with us. So he doesn’t worry.”
“Weirdly weird weirdness.”
“I’m aware that we’re odd.” River snorted in amusement.
It was later in the evening when her friendly tormenters left the cottage. Motts chased them out with promises to text if she had nightmares. She wouldn’t, but they’d be back in the morning to check on her.
They’d fallen into a similar routine after her near tumble off the cliff. Motts appreciated their concern. She did wish they’d trust her to reach out if it was necessary.
“I thought they’d never leave.” Motts locked up behind them, turning on her security system. She’d used it religiously since Teo installed it for her. “Why don’t I scrounge up your supper and a snack for myself? We can catch up on YouTube videos.”
She had just set Cactus’s bowl down when the doorbell rang. Bugger. Checking the front of the cottage via the app on her
phone, Motts wasn’t surprised to see Teo waiting patiently for her. He waved at the camera.
Motts left Cactus to his meal and went to open the door. “Did you identify the body?”
Teo ducked down to step through the doorway, squeezing by her to lift Cactus up when he trotted over to say hello. “Your welcome needs some work.”
“Cactus handles the greeting. I pay him in catnip, tuna, and walks in the garden.” Motts followed Teo and her cat through to the kitchen. He held Cactus comfortably in his arms while she went to fill up the kettle. “Well? Have you identified the victim?”
“Inspector Ash believes the victim is Nadine O’Connell, a kindly grandmother who’d been bedridden yet managed to go missing three years ago.” Teo leaned against the counter, still petting Cactus gently. “They called me since I’m the nearest cold case detective.”
“Not technically the nearest at the time.”
“Ah, yes. The Londoner.”
Motts set the kettle down and flicked it on, then peered over at him. “Why are you saying ‘Londoner’ like a curse word?”
“I’m not.” Teo crossed his arms, dislodging an unhappy Cactus, who prowled away to finish his dinner. “What? I’m not.”
“You definitely said Londoner like you meant wanker.” Motts eyed the mountain of a detective inspector, taller than even Hugh. His brown eyes appeared tired, and his usual carefully coiffed greyish-black hair was mussed up. “The detective seemed nice enough to me.”
“I’m sure he did.”
Motts’s frown deepened “You sound strange.”
“I’m confident the London detective will be nothing but professional.” Teo shrugged.
“Right.”
Chapter Three
Motts woke the next morning to a crick in her neck, sunlight in her eyes, and an insistent paw poking at her cheek. “We’ve slept in.”
Meow.
“Fine. I’ve slept in, and you’ve been kind enough to allow me the luxury.” She plucked Cactus off her pillow and sat up slowly. “We’ve a garden to tend, a mystery to solve, and you need your morning walk.”
Dragging herself out of bed, Motts took a quick warm shower. She changed into jeans and a light jumper, then headed into the kitchen with Cactus on her heels. After feeding both of her beloved creatures, she made a quick breakfast of lemon curd on toast with a large mug of tea.
They spent almost an hour in the garden. Cactus chased after butterflies while Motts checked on her herbs and vegetable patches. She finally brought him inside and steeled her nerves to head down to the village.
Motts stepped out of the cottage to consider her two modes of transportation. She decided the day was warm enough not to take her Vespa and instead went with her 3-speed Pure City Step-Through in lovely seafoam green with dusty pink seats. Her customised bicycle shipped all the way from Los Angeles as a gift from her dad.
Placing her new origami flower bouquet samples along with her backpack into the saddlebags, Motts cycled down the hill into the village toward Marnie’s bridal shop. She adored morning rides in Polperro before tourists swarmed the streets. Afternoons in the summer tended to get crowded.
“Oi! Watch out.”
Motts swerved out of the way of an out-of-control hand trolley. She braked hard and watched it careen down the road with a deliveryman chasing after. “Did I wake up in a Laurel and Hardy movie?”
“Sorry.” Innis froze when he came around the side of a truck and spotted her. “Oh. It’s you. O’Connell’s delivery got away from him. He didn’t aim for you.”
“Didn’t think he had.”
Despite her best efforts, Innis and Rose Walters had maintained a stony distance from her. They hadn’t forgiven Motts for her suspicions surrounding their involvement in his sister’s death. Poor Rhona had been the person buried in her garden.
It didn’t matter that they’d discovered the true killer—Rhona’s boyfriend’s best friend. Questions had already been asked. Rose had even gone so far as to vandalise the cottage.
Once the dust had settled, Motts hadn’t been able to bridge the gap between them. A shame, since Innis and Rose ran the Salty Seaman, the best fish and chip shop in the area. She usually sent Vina or Nish in to get her order to avoid awkward small talk.
Motts sat on her bicycle, staring in Innis’s general direction while he muttered to himself. “Right. Okay. Good morning, then.”
“Motts, love. I’ve made a fresh pot of tea.” Marnie stood outside of her shop, waving her over. She helped Motts lock up her bicycle, then carried in a few of the bouquets. “Aren’t you clever? These will be perfect for my new window display for the summer brides.”
“Thought you might like them.” Motts shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t deal well with compliments, ever. “I brought a few sketches for other ideas.”
“Brilliant. We’ll have a tea and chat session.” Marnie led her to the round table and chairs in the corner of the store where she met with brides. “And, you can tell me all about the handsome London copper my Perry keeps moaning about.”
“Is he handsome?” Motts hadn’t noticed. She did get a good feeling about Detective Inspector Byrne. He’d been there every step of the way while she faced her fears of the coastal path. “He’ll make a nice friend.”
“Friend?” Marnie chuckled.
“What?” Motts ignored the continued laughter from her friend. She carefully arranged the lily and wildflower paper bouquets on the table. “I’ve a few other ideas. I had the supplies to make these on hand so figured best to get you some for brides to see while I wait for my deliveries.”
After getting her laughter under control, Marnie seemed content to stop teasing. Motts didn’t understand why she’d found the London detective so amusing. Her non-autistic friends could be so confusing.
“You’ve got a visitor.” Marnie nodded toward the front of the shop. “Not the inspector I thought would track you down this morning.”
Motts twisted in her chair to find Inspector Herceg stepping into the shop. The jaunty bell dinged cheerfully as the door opened. “Hello, Teo. How goes the investigating?”
He tucked his hands into pockets of his slightly rumpled suit jacket. “Slowly. As all cold cases tend to go. How are you ladies doing this morning?”
“My Perry mentioned it might be Mrs O’Connell. The poor dearie.” Marnie stood up and went over to offer the inspector a cup of tea, which he declined. “I remember visiting with her. She’d gotten so ill. I thought maybe her family had taken her somewhere to get better care. Then they filed a missing person report after a few months. Poor woman.”
Teo glanced from Marnie to Motts. “I’m sure we’ll find out what happened.”
“Why don’t you two enjoy the weather?” Marnie gathered up the bouquets. “These are perfect. And we don’t really need to chat about business anymore.”
With impressive speed, Marnie ushered the two of them out of the store. Motts rolled her eyes in amusement. They’d been dating for over a month; they didn’t need any help to spend time together.
“Why don’t we grab a coffee at Griffin Brews?” Teo waited for Motts to secure her notebook in the saddlebag. He walked beside her while she pushed her bicycle along the street. “We can talk about our plans for the weekend, if you’re still interested in coming to the knitting group.”
In his spare time, the detective inspector enjoyed knitting. He regularly joined his mother’s church group. Motts had gone to a few of the meetings, taking origami paper to craft since yarn bothered her fingers too much to muddle through a scarf or socks.
Or we can talk about Mrs O’Connell and why she looked as though she’d been killed two days ago yet has been missing for close to three years.
“Morning.” Nish opened the door for her and Teo. He’d been cleaning the glass but looped his arm around hers to lead them toward the counter. “Amma is psychic. She claimed you’d be here and made chocolate, honey, and blackcurrant jam macarons especially for you. Lucky duck.”
>
“Really?” Motts enjoyed most berries, but anything currant-flavoured held a special place in her heart. “Trust your mum to remember it’s my favourite.”
Nish gave her a hug, then went behind the counter. “So, two coffees and a plate of treats for you both?”
“Are you going to let me pay for once?” Motts wasn’t surprised when he waved off her and Teo’s attempts. “Nish.”
“Amma would never forgive me for charging her favourite child.” Nish winked at her when she rolled her eyes in exasperation. “River’s already eaten his weight in them.”
“Thought they were for me?” Motts gestured to the variety of blackcurrant-themed pastries on offer. “You’ve all outdone yourselves. It’s a week of Ribena.”
“Ribena week. Don’t let Vina hear you. She’ll want to put out advertisements.” Nish made their coffees perfectly. He handed one to her and the other to Teo. “I’ll bring the plates over in a moment. Take your usual table in the corner.”
Over their fancy coffees and macarons, Motts tried to probe Teo about the investigation. He skilfully avoided answering her questions directly. She didn’t think her attempt at subtlety was working.
“Motts.” Teo stopped stirring his coffee and focused his attention fully on her. “I can’t give you any details about the investigation. Haven’t you had your fill of being close to a murder victim?”
“I found her. Unnamed, unknown, uncovered.” Motts hated running out of words before completing an alliteration. “Bodies decompose in the sea, don’t they? How’d she wind up looking a few days dead?”
“Motts.”
“Mottsy,” Vina called out to her from across the café, waving her over. “Motts.”
“Persistent Pravina persists passionately. Better.” Motts slipped out of her chair and met Vina by the counter. “What?”
“Silver fox at ten o’clock,” Vina whispered.
Motts checked the time on the clock behind her. “It’s not ten.”
“Of all the….” Vina trailed off, shaking her head. “There’s a silver fox approaching.”
“There aren’t any silver foxes in Polperro. Maybe you should call animal control?” Motts glanced at Vina, who raised a hand up to cover her face. “What is it?”
Pierced Peony Page 2
