Pierced Peony

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Pierced Peony Page 5

by Dahlia Donovan


  “Amma makes the best honey cake. This would be brilliant. I’ll bring some over later.” Nish glanced down the street. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Motts tried not to stare at the fish shop. She saw Nish and the grumpy Innis talking. “Interesting.”

  Nish returned a few minutes later. “Innis apparently saw you as well. Had the meal prepped before I even asked.”

  “Shouty eyes.”

  “He of the shouty eyes had your food ready and refused to take my fiver.” Nish placed the packet into her basket, grabbed the jar of honey, and gave her a quick hug. “Off home with you. I’ll keep Vina from bothering you this evening.”

  Motts appreciated how Nish never pushed her for more. “Give her a hug for me.”

  “Your version or mine?”

  “Whichever.” Motts shrugged. “Don’t get into it with your sister. I don’t want your amma calling to complain.”

  “As if she’d complain to her favourite child about us.” Nish nudged her. “Only teasing.”

  The rest of the afternoon went by in a pleasantly quiet blur. Motts ate her lunch in the garden with Cactus. They’d lazed in the sun until angry voices on the other side of the garden fence chased them inside.

  Someone had been walking along the path on the coastal side of her garden, having a massive row. Motts was almost curious enough to poke her head over the fence. She wondered if Teo would add an additional camera for her.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be too nosy.

  Deciding the day called for a hot chocolate, Motts wandered into the kitchen. She set a pot on the stove and mixed milk, double cream, chocolate, and a hint of coffee. The latter being her dad’s secret ingredient.

  Meow.

  “Yes, they were rude to disturb your afternoon walk.” Motts grabbed one of the treats from the counter and offered it to Cactus. “How about we snuggle in by the window and read about kayaking in Cornwall?”

  Meow.

  “I’ll remember to turn the security system on. Just in case.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Since when is there an island off Polperro?” Motts brushed her hair out of her eyes and bent forward to inspect the map more closely. “Ah. Toast crumb. Not an isle so much as a refuge of buttered bread abandoned in your haste to steal my breakfast.”

  Buttered bread bounces beyond borders.

  And now I’m hungry again.

  A second round of lemon curd on buttered toast soothed her renewed hunger. Motts had woken up early. She wanted to meander around the docks after the fishing vessels had gone out but before the rest of the world was up and about.

  Plus, Nish had texted last night. His mum had a ginger honey cake for her. Motts never turned down Leena’s creations.

  “I’ll bring a treat home for you. I promise.” Motts bent down to rub Cactus’s head when he followed her to the front door. “You had your walk already. And even this early, I wouldn’t risk someone running off with you. Or you going off trying to hunt down a fish of your own. Greedy guts.”

  Cactus retreated into the cottage with a flick of his tail. He was probably going to complain to Moss about her cruelty. With a smile, Motts headed outside, making sure to lock up carefully.

  She cycled down the hill to the village. With summer came the closing of local streets to vehicles; the narrow lanes of Polperro didn’t lend way to increased traffic. But she didn’t really have to worry about tourists at half-past six.

  No one was so interested in a quaint fishing village to get up with the sun.

  Her evening had been spent reading up on tides and the Polperro port. Motts had a suspicion whoever dumped the body had gone out from there. If so, according to her research, they’d have a six-hour window, three on either side of the high tide, to push off from the village.

  A tricky thing to manage, since high tide the day they’d found the body would’ve been around three in the morning. Probably not a coincidence. Not many people out and about so early. She wondered if CCTV cameras around the harbour had caught anything.

  Motts made her way slowly through the quiet village. She noticed the van from the cold storage facility located on the quayside where a lot of the fish wound up that wasn’t immediately taken by commercial buyers or the local fish market. I hope he minds his trolley this morning; I’m not awake enough to play dodge the projectile.

  Riding up to the harbour, Motts locked her bicycle up against one of the railings. She strolled along the right side of the docks. Most of the fishing trawlers had already made their way out to sea; they’d be gone for a few days if the weather held.

  Motts carefully went down the stairs leading directly to the water. The tide had pulled out, leaving a small area to step without going for a dip in the sea. She peered around, trying to see any sort of sign.

  What am I looking for? There are loads of boats in and out of the harbour. Even if I find something, there’s no guarantee it’s related to poor old Mrs O’Connell.

  A glint of light caught her attention on her way up the stairs. Motts crouched down to find a scrap of fabric from a coat along with a distinctive toggle type of button. She grabbed her phone and took several photos before gently tugging it out from between the jagged stones along the wall.

  Motts considered her options and sent a text with one of the images to Teo. “I can always claim to have accidentally stumbled on it during a morning walk. By docks. Where it’s slippery and stinks of briny fish.”

  Giving the entire side of the harbour a more thorough glance, Motts didn’t find any other potential clues. She hadn’t received a response from Teo but sent a follow-up text inviting him to coffee at the café. He’d stayed with his parents in Looe, since the cold case would keep him close to Polperro.

  She knocked on the side door to the café and secured her bicycle to a nearby lamppost while waiting. “Morning.”

  “Come in for a mug of coffee and some cake.” Leena swung the door open and waved her inside. “I’ve got the ovens going full blast. We’re trying some new summer pasties and macarons this morning.”

  “No minions doing your bidding?”

  “My babies are elbow-deep in flour at the moment.” Leena looped her arm around Motts. “What has you up so early?”

  “Your babies are in their thirties.” Motts allowed herself to be led through the dimly lit café into the kitchen. “Something smells divine.”

  “Amma had the idea to play around with rose-flavoured custard. We’re hoping for bright, summery macarons. Made a few mango cream ones as well.” Vina brushed her flour-covered hands off on her brother’s shirt, ignoring his indignant shout. “Does Cactus approve of you being out this early?”

  “I imagine he’s commiserating with Moss as we speak.” Motts sidled over to Nish, who’d managed to clean his shirt off. “You mentioned ginger honey cake.”

  “Glad you’re happy to see us.” He nudged her with his elbow.

  “If you give me honey cake, I’ll show you the clue I found by the harbour.” Motts stared him down—well, at his nose more than his eyes. He blinked first. “Cake, coffee, clues, carefully considered contemplation.”

  “Eight out of ten.” Vina scored her alliteration.

  “Nine. Cake deserves an extra point,” Nish argued.

  While Leena lightly scolded her children, who laughed in response, Motts happily accepted the slice of sticky honey cake Nish offered. They moved away from the baking zone into a small table in the corner. The Griffins usually had their lunches there.

  “What’s the clue?” Vina had the least amount of patience of the twins. She set three mugs of coffee on the table and slipped into the chair beside Motts. “Well?”

  Motts eased the fabric out of her pocket and set it on the table. “Possibly nothing, but I found this caught by the wall on the stairs. Rather old-fashioned coat with distinctive buttons. The body—”

  Shoving a piece of cake into her mouth, Motts tried to gather her thoughts. She hated thinking about discovering Mrs O’Connell.
Her friends, thankfully, kept silent while she chewed.

  “I can’t quite remember her clothing, but I sent a photo to Teo. I imagine he’ll swing around sooner rather than later.” Motts hoped the inspector wasn’t upset with her find. “My nan has a coat like this.”

  “Everyone’s nan has a version of this coat.” Vina leaned in to inspect the button. “There’s a weird hole.”

  Motts shifted forward and noticed the almost pin-sized hole in the fabric. “How strange. Maybe she had a broach?”

  Vina spread the fabric out. “Too large.”

  The inspection and debate over the hole and the button continued through their breakfast. Motts wisely tucked the piece into her pocket for protection. Teo wouldn’t be impressed if she handed the evidence over covered in sticky honey and coffee.

  She was on her second mug of rich, spiced coffee when Teo messaged her. “Might want to throw one of those English breakfast pasties into the oven. We’re about to be invaded by the police.”

  “We’ll make a plate for him. Bless the poor man, having to deal with the three of you.” Cadan had joined his wife by the oven. He shook a rolling pin at his twins. “Shouldn’t you two be getting the café ready to open?”

  With plenty of whinging, the twins left Motts in the kitchen while they got to work. Cadan winked at her before grabbing Leena and dipping her low for a kiss. She watched them make quick work of folding pastries and dropping them onto a tray ready to go in the oven.

  When the twins returned to the kitchen, they brought Teo with them. The detective inspector, as per usual, stood taller than everyone. He ducked down to avoid a low hanging light.

  “Motts.” He sat down across the table from her when Leena practically shoved him into a chair. The Griffin matriarch feared no one and charmed everyone. When she smiled, Motts could easily see how she’d been a star in Bollywood all those years ago. “Are you trying to become the paper-folding detective?”

  “She would fit in with you being the knitting detective.” Vina gave him a pointed glare before setting a frothy cappuccino in front of him. “None of your plodding constables found anything by the docks.”

  “Vina.” Motts didn’t think the detectives had gotten a chance to explore the harbour. “Don’t be prickly. Prickly pear pointedly persists.”

  “Seven and a half,” Vina retorted.

  “What? It’s a solid ten out of ten on the alliteration scoreboard.” Nish grabbed his sister by the arm. “We’ll be over here, pretending not to listen to your morning coffee date with your detective.”

  Teo didn’t crack a smile at the antics of the twins. He held his hand out toward Motts. “Show me.”

  Motts retrieved the fabric out of her pocket and offered it to him. “It might be nothing, but if she wore a coat, you ought to be able to match up the patterns and buttons. There’s a strange hole.”

  “Is there?” He tilted the fabric up to the light. “Thin. I obviously can’t give you any details of the case.”

  A strangled complaint made Motts peer over to where Nish appeared to be smothering his sister with an apron. Leena was leaning against her husband, laughing herself silly at her children. Teo continued to focus his attention on a small scrap of evidence.

  “Teo?” Motts shifted her chair around the table to sit next to him. “Is it hers?”

  He eased an evidence bag out of his pocket and carefully sealed away the swatch of fabric. “Have dinner with me? I can bring something over. Say about seven?”

  “Date night?” Motts whispered. She glared over her shoulder at her laughing friends. “Okay.”

  Despite having dated Vina for years and having been casually going out with Teo for a few months, Motts still found it hard to believe. She’d never expected to meet an asexual detective in Cornwall. He was perfect.

  And most importantly, Teo never pressed her for more time together. He did a better job than most at knowing Motts required space to herself. She appreciated the gesture immensely.

  “We’ll talk about this then.” Teo pocketed the evidence. “What else have you been up to?”

  The conversation shifted to other things as the Griffins joined them for a quick breakfast. With the café needing to be opened, Motts and Teo left the family to their work. She headed out the side exit while he went out the front.

  “You found my nan.”

  Motts had wheeled her bicycle down the alley and paused in front of the café. She looked at the brown-haired, blue-eyed man. “Who’s your nan?”

  “How many dead old women do you find?” he snapped at her.

  Motts kept her bicycle between them. “I had the misfortune of spotting someone in the sea.”

  “What did you see?”

  She didn’t like the angry man and was reasonably certain he was the older and taller of the two brothers who’d argued at the church. What did I see when? How do I answer when I don’t understand the question fully? She was frozen with indecision.

  “Jasper O’Connell.” Teo strode out of the café towards them, inserting himself between Motts and the man. “You were supposed to meet with Inspector Ash and myself yesterday. Any particular reason you didn’t show up? I’d think you’d want answers for what happened to your grandmother.”

  “I was out fishing.”

  Motts had learned enough about the local fishing business to spot a lie. “Boats weren’t out yesterday. They went early this morning, right before high tide.”

  “I have my own boat.”

  “Do you?” Motts stared at Jasper. “What kind of boat?”

  “Motts.” Teo rested his hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t I escort Jasper to his interview? I’ll see you later.”

  “Fine.” Motts hoped he’d share at least a few details with her later. “Cactus will be missing me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Her plan for the day had been to finish up a quilling project, but Motts’s morning discovery and confrontation with one of the O’Connells had destroyed her concentration. She threw in the towel an hour before lunch.

  Quilling and origami required patience and skill. Motts’s fingers refused to cooperate. She decided to brave the coastal path.

  Since her walk with Dempsey, Motts thought maybe her fears had been settled. She pulled on a light cardigan and headed out her garden gate.

  “This is why I moved out here from London.” Motts breathed in deeply and enjoyed the salty taste of the sea breeze. “Despite the dead bodies, it’s beautiful out here.”

  The crashing waves on the cliffs below serenaded her along the trail. Motts wondered if her next quilling art should be something related to the ocean. She hadn’t created one for herself in a while; one of the downsides of her hobbies being her source of income was she rarely indulged for the fun of it.

  “It’s you.”

  “Is it?” Motts came to an abrupt halt on the path. She found herself confronted by the second of the O’Connell brothers. Mikey. “Could you move, please?”

  “Someone in the village claimed you discovered Nan’s body.” Mikey shoved his hands into his pockets. He continued to block her way but didn’t stalk towards her as his brother had. “I know it’s a cheek, but can you tell me anything?”

  “Anything about what?” Motts didn’t understand what the O’Connell brothers thought she might know. “I didn’t see much. I spotted her floating in the sea. Maybe caught up on some of the rocks. A detective was with me. He might’ve noticed more than I did.”

  Unlike his impulsive and aggressive brother, Mikey seemed genuinely moved by his nan’s death. Jasper hadn’t been grieved so much as enraged about some aspect of the discovery. She wondered why Mikey was up on the coastal path.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I can be much help to you.” Motts considered a hasty retreat since her way forward was blocked. “Do you walk up here often?”

  “No. Hate heights. Not overly fond of the sea either.”

  “Pity, since you live in a fishing village.” Motts wondered if he mi
ght be lying. She wasn’t the best judge of deceit. “Don’t you and your brother own a boat?”

  “Me? And Jasper? We’d drown each other if we ever went out to sea together.” Mikey wrapped his arms around himself. “He doesn’t approve of me.”

  “Oh?”

  “Or the way Nan loved me better.” He stepped to the side. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have been so abrupt. My head’s not been straight since they found her. We’d given up hope, or I had. Three years was such a long time. Mum and Jas didn’t care much about Nan even when she was alive, aside from the money.”

  Money.

  What money?

  Motts rarely succeeded with small talk, but maybe he’d keep going if she didn’t try to pepper him with specific questions. “And you did?”

  “Nan ran the company with our granddad for years. She had a head for numbers. He dealt with the fishing blocks while she handled everything else.” Mikey gestured for her to walk with him back towards the village. “She encouraged me to follow my dreams. Jasper took over the business when Nan got sick. Mum was supposed to be taking care of her.”

  “But?” Motts prompted when he fell silent.

  “Mum and Nan tended to argue. Granddad spoiled mum. His only daughter.” Mikey suddenly seemed to remember himself. “Sorry to have interrupted your walk.”

  Motts could only stare in confusion while he bolted away from her. Was it something I said? What an odd conversation. All is definitely not right in the O’Connell family. So, did one of them kill their sickly nan?

  Lost in thought, Motts returned to her cottage. She had too much on her mind to continue with a walk. Turning off the alarm and opening the back door, she allowed Cactus to join her in the garden.

  The afternoon flew by. Motts lost herself in tending her various herbs and plants. Not a flower in sight, which would prevent her sneezing fits. She watched Cactus chase butterflies.

  “Time for tea.” Motts carried Cactus into the cottage. He’d spent enough time out in the sun. “Ready for your snack?”

  Her tortoiseshell Sphynx cat required frequent healthy snacks to cope with his high metabolism. His peach fuzz suede-like fur didn’t allow him to regulate his temperature well. So despite his enjoyment of playing outside, Motts tried not to let him get overheated or too cold during the cooler months.

 

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