“Are you wanting your little cardigan?” Motts smiled when Cactus leapt onto the coffee table and sat beside the knitted jumper. “We’ll have to thank Teo again for making this for you.”
After a soothing cup of tea and biscuits, Motts turned on a YouTube video. She carried a portable speaker outside and continued lazily pottering around in her garden through the late afternoon. It helped her process her thoughts.
While digging around a patch of basil, Motts considered the temperamental O’Connell clan. She wondered about the truth of the relationship between Jasper and Mikey. The latter seemed greatly affected by his nan’s death.
Had they simply been facing their grief when they’d argued at the funeral?
It was possible.
“No Cactus helping you weed?”
Motts jumped in surprise and pressed a hand to her chest. She glared at the detective inspector peering over her fence. “Did you want to scare my heart out of my body?”
“My apologies.” Teo hefted a shopping tote up for her to see. “I come bearing gifts of food.”
“Apology accepted.” Motts stood up and shook the dirt off her jeans. “So, how did your conversation with Jasper the Grumpy go?”
“I can’t tell you about the case.”
She watched him reach over the fence to unhook the latch on the gate and step into the garden. “I happened to stumble on the second of the O’Connell brothers today.”
“Did you?”
“I can’t talk about personal conversations.” Motts made her way into the cottage, leaving Teo to follow her. She ignored his frustrated huff. “What did your bring for supper?”
“Zagrebački Odrezak.” He lifted a covered platter and gently placed it on the kitchen counter. “You might call this a schnitzel cordon bleu. Only my mother makes hers with chicken instead of the traditional veal.”
“I sense the presence of pastry.” Motts leaned forward to get a closer view of the bag. “And sugar.”
“Fine sense of smell.” Teo reached in for a second plate. “Cherry strudel. Extra sugar. Extra cherry.”
“Dessert first then?” Motts carefully pulled the aluminium foil off the strudel plate. She was greeted by the sight of powdered sugar covering the flakiest of filo that was wrapped around a sweetened cherry and walnut filling. “Oh. Custard.”
Teo lifted the little pot and placed it next to the strudel. “Savoury before sweet.”
“As you like.” Motts handed him a dinner plate and reached for a bowl for herself. “I’m having strudel and custard.”
With a wry chuckle, Teo cut himself a large portion of the schnitzel. Motts dished out a decent piece of the cherry pastry and more custard than was probably healthy. She fancied a sweet treat to get her through the evening.
Despite having gone on several dates with Teo, Motts still found them both stressful and awkward. He did his best to put her at ease. She was grateful that he didn’t take her reactions personally.
Even Vina, who’d known her for so long, had struggled at times. Motts sat across from him at the table, deftly keeping Cactus away from their food. Teo waited until halfway through his schnitzel before bringing the conversation around to the O’Connell brothers.
“How about I give you a few details about our talk with Jasper and you tell me about running into Mikey?” Teo saluted her with his glass when she nodded. “You probably won’t believe me when I say he didn’t have any insights into his grandmother aside from considering her an annoyingly stingy old bat.”
“Charming.” Motts dragged a cherry through her river of custard. “Mikey didn’t offer anything other than more of a mystery.”
“We both clearly have issues with open and genuine communication.” Teo smiled at her. “I got the idea the elder brother didn’t care for his younger sibling.”
“And vice versa. I saw them arguing at the church before the funeral. Mikey did mention his mum didn’t enjoy caring for her mother. Who inherited the most with her death?” Motts had been wondering about Nadine O’Connell’s will. She hadn’t been declared dead despite being missing for so many years. “Or, maybe the question is who benefited the most from her death not being discovered?”
“What?”
“They never declared her dead, did they? Mrs O’Connell. If she wasn’t dead, who gained controlling interest over the family business?” Motts grabbed a second bowl and dished up some of the cherry dessert for Teo. “And if she hated caring for her mother so much, why not send her to a home for the aged?”
“You keep her at home to control her.” Teo tapped his spoon against the bowl. “We’ve put in a request for a copy of the will. I’d wager the killer discovered the money wouldn’t go to them, so if she was missing….”
“It’s one theory.”
“Murder tends to have only a few motives. Money being one of them.” He scooped up a mouthful of pastry, pausing to consider while he chewed. “It’s the strongest motive in this case.”
“Unless her daughter truly loathed her. I doubt caring for a sickly relative improved an already strained relationship.” Motts wondered what Mikey had meant about his mother and brother caring about the money. “How well was their business doing?”
“Another aspect we’re investigating.” Teo was methodically working his way through the cherry pastry. “Unlike all those true crime shows on the telly, things don’t happen overnight with proper police work.”
“Proper police work?”
“The kind without flashy detectives and made-up science.”
“You’re a little flashy.” Motts stared into the remnants of her dessert. A little flashy? I am so hopeless with the flirting and complimenting. “Forensic accounting takes time.”
“Precisely.”
Totally.
Completely.
Hopeless.
Chapter Ten
Morning came far too early for Motts. She’d planned to sleep in, but even with the curtains drawn tightly, her plan had failed. Insistent knocking on her front door had her stumbling out of bed in a right state.
“I’m sorry to have woken you up.” Detective Inspector Byrne had two cups of coffee in his hand. “One half of the Griffin twins insisted you’d be out in the garden by this time.”
“I usually am.” Motts shoved her hands into the pockets of her rubber duck pyjama bottoms. “Rough day in the garden yesterday so I slept in.”
“Rough day in the garden?”
“My attempts at humour aren’t brilliant before coffee.” She stepped back to wave him into the cottage. Cactus sidled up to his legs with an inquiring meow. “He hasn’t had his breakfast yet. I thought you’d be halfway to London by now.”
“A few more questions.”
“Oh.” Motts dragged her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten it from a mop into something resembling a hairstyle. She gave up and grabbed a stray beanie off the back of the couch to drag onto her head. “About Jenny?”
“In a way, yes. How well do you remember the other girls in your class?”
“Not even a little. I think I’ve blocked out my school years. I couldn’t tell you their names. I might recognise them in pictures. Maybe.” Motts wandered into the kitchen, stumbling over Cactus, who tried to wind his way between her legs. “Yes, I know, we’re late for your breakfast and your walk. Patience is a virtue.”
“Don’t think felines come with virtue pre-installed into their programming.” Dempsey made himself comfortable in one of the kitchen chairs. He set both cups of coffee on the table. “What else can you remember about your classmates?”
Motts rubbed the back of her neck absently. “Hang on.”
Leaving the detective inspector in the kitchen, Motts made her way upstairs into the spare room. She dug around in the closet to find a small wooden chest buried underneath her winter cardigans. Bingo. There you are.
Motts carried the little box downstairs and placed it on the table. She opened the lid to pull out a collection of old photographs
. “I try to avoid these. Bad memories. I haven’t wanted to dig too far into the past despite my periodic searches for information on Jenny’s death.”
“A birthday party?” Dempsey flicked through the photographs. “Yours?”
“No.” Motts shuddered. “One of my classmates. Not Jenny. Mum made me go. She thought I should socialise more.”
“How did the socialising work out for you?”
“Dismally. They locked me in a cupboard. Jenny found me. She stole some of the money from the birthday girl’s card. We went around the corner for ice cream.” Motts had forgotten about their adventure. They’d gotten a comic and a Cornetto each. “My dad found us sitting on a bench in a garden across the street. He bought us a second treat for being clever girls.”
“Clearly not the disciplinarian of your family,” Dempsey teased.
“No.” Motts knew her dad had tried to make up for her mum’s constant attempts to “help.” “I’ve genuinely tried to forget most of those horrid girls. We didn’t keep in touch. Who does with primary school classmates?”
“You’d be surprised.”
She went over to drop two slices of bread in the toaster. “Want a slice?”
“Just the coffee.” He lifted his cup in one hand while continuing to peruse her old photos. He flipped one over. “Jenny, Pineapple, Autumn, and Gracie.”
Motts placed Cactus’s breakfast on the counter for him. She came over to look at the names written by her mum on the photograph. “Autumn and Gracie. They were the least horrid of our classmates. I think their mums knew Jenny’s and mine. We were always being thrown together and wandering off on our own when no one was looking.”
“Your mum wrote names on all of these. Can I make copies?” Dempsey had pulled out a collection of the photos.
“Keep them. I haven’t opened that chest in fifteen years at least.” Motts had honestly thought she’d thrown them away. “So clearly I won’t miss the photos.”
“Thank you.” He slipped several of the photos into an envelope she offered to him. “I’ll be heading to London today. Time to get back to work.”
“Oh?”
“You’ve answered what you can. No point in my hanging around to enjoy the sea and sun.” He saluted her with his cup of coffee. “I’ll keep in touch, if you don’t mind. I might have more questions for you as my investigation continues. Cold cases are rarely solved without extensive work.”
“Friends.” Motts kept her focus on her toast, buttering the cooled slices and adding more lemon curd than was probably healthy. “Friends?”
Dempsey broke into a smile when she risked a glance over at him. “Most definitely. I promise to do my absolute best to bring peace to Jenny.”
She pressed her knife too hard into her toast, ripping it in half. “You’ll bring peace to her family. Not to her. I don’t believe the dead are bothered one way or the other. Justice is for those left behind.”
“A sober view.”
“An honest one. A blunt, practical, and less poetic view.” Motts shrugged. She’d had quite a few debates, both friendly and volatile, about her views on death. “Would Jenny want justice? I imagine she would. I’d want it.”
“True enough.” He continued drinking his coffee and perusing the remaining photos. “My gut feeling is the answer lies somewhere with your classmates or the school.”
“Someone targeting our class?”
“Perhaps.” Dempsey waved off her second offer of toast. “Not deep enough into the investigation yet. I’ve requested a number of missing person files along with the school’s roster.”
“There was a fire.” Motts remembered her mother mentioning it. “Would the files have been lost?”
“Still waiting for the school to respond. They don’t seem to be in a hurry, which is odd.”
Motts munched on her first piece of toast. “Privacy concerns?”
“People don’t often ignore a request from the police.”
“Don’t they?”
Dempsey chuckled into his coffee. “Fair enough. They do. I didn’t expect a school to.”
“Why not?” Motts had read up on enough crimes to know schools might be even more prone to scandals and secrets. “Can’t you force them to respond?”
“Not without something concrete.” Dempsey got to his feet. He drained his cup and dropped it into the rubbish bin. “I’ll get out of your hair. I want to chat with your detective inspector before I return to London.”
“He’s not a possession. We’re dating.” Motts didn’t honestly think they’d been together long enough to claim anything other than that. She’d never understood the drive to define relationships instantly. “He is a detective inspector.”
“Right.” Dempsey chuckled. “I’ll chat with the detective inspector with whom you are acquainted.”
Once the detective inspector had gone, Motts tried to return to her regular routine. After breakfast, she made quick work of a simple rose origami bouquet. A plaintive meow from Cactus drew her out into the garden to enjoy the late morning sun.
“Well? What are we going to do about our mystery?” Motts stretched out on the grass, enjoying the sounds of the sea drifting over the fence. Cactus leapt up onto her stomach. “I agree. I suppose we’re going to need to brainstorm, which means snacks and people.”
Though Motts felt more strongly about the snacks than the people, she invited Marnie, River, Nish, and Vina over for an early dinner. They all promised to bring something edible. A potluck of sorts to keep their minds fuelled for the difficult task of solving a mystery.
“My Perry insisted on joining us in a purely unofficial capacity.” Marnie dragged her husband into the cottage. “He’s promised not to disrupt our dabbling with a criminal investigation.”
Motts shifted uneasily. She liked Detective Inspector Ash, but she hadn’t expected an uninvited guest. “Okay.”
“Hello, Cousin Pineapple.” River scooted between Marnie and her husband. He looped an arm around Motts to guide her down the hall into her kitchen. “We tried talking her out of bringing him.”
“You bring your boyfriend. Vina brings her girlfriend when she’s in town. It’s only fair Marnie brings her husband.” Motts tried to approach the subject logically. Practically. It’s how she dealt with life. “I don’t mind.”
“You do. He’s an unexpected presence in your personal space.” River kept his voice low. “I can have a quiet word with him. Perry’s a good bloke. He’d leave if I asked him.”
“No.” Motts grabbed River’s arm to hold him by her side. “I won’t be rude. He’s been perfectly lovely to me.”
“Perry’s quiet enough. You might never even know he’s here.” River lifted up the bag in his free hand. “Mum made your favourite.”
Opting to ignore the presence of the police officer, Motts helped everyone get food spread across the table. They had a spiced bread pudding from Marnie, the twins had brought a lamb biryani, and River had his mum’s dumplings. She added her own dish to the mix—a simple salad along with a drink for everyone to share.
“Dig in.” Motts had already put plates and cutlery on the table. She could forget Perry as long as she had food to distract herself. Well, they can’t say I’m eating my feelings. Or, maybe I am. “We can chat about the case when we finish eating. Or while, if you can keep from being gross.”
“Thanks, Motts.” River nudged her with his elbow. “You make me feel all warm and fuzzy.”
“Weird.” She stepped around her cousin and handed out napkins to her guests. “Fever? You’re not contagious, are you?”
“No, I’m not.” River shook his head with a laugh. “I can’t tell if you’re genuinely misunderstanding or simply messing with me.”
“A novel experience for you. Welcome to my world.” She snagged a dumpling from her cousin’s plate. “I was joking. I know what warm and fuzzy means.”
Only because Uncle Tomato explained it in great detail to me once, but no one else needs to know.
As Motts feared, no one aside from Marnie felt at ease discussing anything related to investigations in front of Perry. Proving his skills at detecting, he made a polite withdrawal after dinner. Motts was ashamed to admit she felt an immense sense of relief at his absence.
And she did.
They grabbed hot chocolates and made their way into the living room to get comfortable. Motts curled up on one of the easy chairs with Cactus at her side. She sipped her drink and allowed the tension to ease away.
“Well?” Vina, ever the patient one, interrupted the momentary quiet. “What have you discovered?”
“Not much.” Motts hadn’t gathered her thoughts from being thrown off by Perry’s surprise presence. “The O’Connell brothers are odd. I imagine Teo won’t tell me anything about the button and fabric.”
“Did you take a photo?” Marnie asked.
Motts grabbed her phone and quickly found the image to hold out to her. “Do you recognise it?”
“Looks like my Nan’s coat.” Marnie glanced around when the others laughed. “I’d swear Nadine O’Connell had one like it, though. Have you spoken with Amy?”
“Amy?” Motts hadn’t heard of anyone by the name related to the case.
“Her daughter. The boys’ mum. She’d know since she cared for poor Nadine until she went missing,” Nish answered. “What if we go casually offer our condolences?”
“Casually?” River chimed in while chuckling into his mug. “Marnie should go. She knows the family.”
The rest of the evening was mostly them offering thoughts on the brothers. Motts hadn’t learned anything useful. She snuck her phone out to text Nish with a plea for help; she’d reached her limit of social interaction for the day.
Nish checked his phone a few seconds later and made a show of yawning. “Why don’t we wrap this up? We’re not solving world peace in a night.”
River glanced between his boyfriend and his cousin before nodding. “Home it is.”
Pierced Peony Page 6
