Motts decided not to mention her conversation with Callie, not until she’d spoken with her again. She shifted uncomfortably. “What are you doing this morning? Aside from feeding my chocolate hunger? And drinking my coffee?”
He shook his head and reached across the table to grab her hand. “Sometimes, Pineapple Mottley, I just want to spend time with you.”
“Right.” She stared at his hand in confusion. “You didn’t come to the village just for breakfast with me.”
“It could be a romantic gesture.”
“That’s not practical.” Motts couldn’t stop staring at the crumbs on her fingertips. “Detective inspectors from Plymouth can’t hang around Looe and Polperro indefinitely.”
“Excellent point. Maybe I’m conferring with an independent source.” Teo leaned back in his chair and laughed again when Cactus leapt up onto his leg. “Someone appreciates my presence.”
She fidgeted in the chair, considering the tall, broad-shouldered detective across the table from her. “I appreciate your presence even if I’m dismal at the concept of romance and romantic gestures.”
“My baka claims everyone has their own language of romance. I’m going to enjoy learning yours.” Teo always spoke of his grandmother in such a reverent tone. “She might come to visit in a few months. I know she’d love to meet you.”
Motts found herself nodding. How do I respond to that? We’re only dating. Why aren’t there books for how to deal with these things? “Brilliant.”
With what seemed like a knowing smile, Teo changed the conversation. He followed her into the garden, where she set Cactus loose on the butterflies. Motts checked on all her herbs and assortment of other plants, pulling a stray weed.
“Someone’s tossed an empty cigarette packet.” Teo was standing on the ocean side of her garden, peering over the fence. “Hang on.”
“What’s going on?”
Teo returned a few minutes later, wearing a pair of gloves and carefully holding a pack of cigarettes. “Do you have a Ziplock bag or a plastic container?”
With Cactus following on their heels, they returned to the cottage. Motts found a small bag that some of her origami paper had arrived in and offered it to Teo. He immediately dropped the empty packet and a handful of cigarette butts inside.
“We’ll get a new camera installed to cover the other side of the fence. Someone was definitely hanging out there.” Teo removed his gloves and dropped them into her rubbish bin. “Try your best to stay safe.”
“Of course.” Motts frowned in confusion as he bent forward to drop a kiss on the top of her head and then walked out with a goodbye called over his shoulder. She picked up Cactus, who’d come over to her. “Is it all men who are confusing? Or just the non-autistic ones? Or is Teo a particularly perplexing human?”
Meow.
“I’m not sure either.”
Chapter Thirteen
“I’ve got to get out of the cottage,” Motts muttered to herself. She’d spent an hour after Teo left trying to focus on a quilling project with no success. “Maybe I’ll cycle to Fowey again. Callie’s shop should be open on a bright sunny day like this.”
Deciding not to risk her being out, Motts sent a quick email. Instead of Callie, she received a prompt response from Lilith, her wife, who suggested Motts cycle to Looe instead. Callie was in the middle of a guided kayak tour along the coast and up the river into the village.
Looe meant Auntie Lily and Uncle Tomato. And River. Motts decided she could pass the time at the brewery until Callie was ready. The journey to Looe would be faster than Fowey in any case.
And Auntie Lily always had good food.
“Now, you two behave.” Motts made sure Moss and Cactus had everything they needed. “Don’t throw any parties or invite strangers inside.”
Cactus had already curled up by Moss’s terrarium. Motts wondered what the two would gossip about in her absence. She got her bicycle out, checking the chain and tyres. It wouldn’t do to get halfway there and have a flat.
Of the multiple routes to Looe, Motts enjoyed the narrow lanes going through Oaklands Park. She usually didn’t have to battle with masses of tourists. And it reduced her anxiety to not need to worry about lorries or commercial vans.
With the warmth of the day, Motts left her jumper at home; a long-sleeved T-shirt was good enough. She cycled down the hill, through the village, and up The Coombe. Hughie honked his horn from across the street to get her attention.
“Hello, Constable.” She smiled when he came alongside her. “Anything I should know on my journey to Looe?”
“A387’s backed up with an accident. They’re clearing the wrecked vehicles now.” He nodded his head in the general direction. “I’d stick with the Longcombe to cut around the jam and reconnect with it. I imagine traffic will lighten up in time for your ride home, though.”
“Okay—” Motts was cut off by a sharp horn.
She glanced over her shoulder to find a red-faced Jasper O’Connell practically punching the horn of his van. He was yelling at them to quit blocking the street. Ignoring him, she said a quick goodbye to Hughie and cycled off, leaving the constable to deal with the angry man.
Taking Hughie’s advice, Motts hooked a left off the A397 onto Trelaske Lane, then a few rights onto the National Cycle Route. She definitely wouldn’t have to worry about traffic jams on it. Angry drivers stuck on their holidays weren’t a pleasant thing to deal with on a bicycle.
The path through Kilminorth Woods was one of her favourites. In the distance, Motts could just hear the West Looe River, mingled with the cheerful chirping of birds. The thick trees had leafed out beautifully this summer.
It smelled lovely. Motts sternly told her nose to cooperate. She didn’t want an allergy attack from enjoying the scent of all the wildflowers in the forest.
Her journey to Looe went smoothly. There were a number of walkers and cyclists on the trail, but they all simply waved a greeting and continued on their way. She greatly appreciated being able to commune with nature without the annoyance of small talk.
Arriving in Looe right before noon, Motts sent a text to Callie, who replied that the kayakers had another hour or more of their guided tour. She decided to have a relaxing lunch. No point in rushing if Callie wouldn’t show up until after one.
Despite knowing her auntie would be thrilled to share leftovers, Motts fancied a good sandwich and maybe a scone. She sent River a quick message to see if he wanted to join her. It would be easier to deal with one of the Chen-Mottleys rather than all three of them at the same time.
She loved her family. All of them. Her auntie and uncle were calmer than her parents. Well, mostly her mum. Her dad was possibly the mildest-mannered human being on the planet.
But sometimes, Motts didn’t want to answer a million questions about her nerves. Are you doing okay, love? Need anything? Want some help? You poor dear. Life must be so hard for you. It never seemed to end despite her insistence on being perfectly fine.
And perfectly capable of dealing with whatever life throws my way.
Motts cycled through the village to Quay Road. She locked her bike up on a railing across from Tasty Corner to wait for her cousin, who came jogging up a few minutes later. “That was quick.”
“Yes, hello. Lovely to see you,” River teased. “I’ll forgive the lack of familial greeting for saving me from leftovers.”
“Your mum’s leftovers are brilliant.”
“Yes, but unlike you, I can’t eat the same thing every day for a week.” River grinned unrepentantly. “What brings you to Looe? It can’t be lunch. You can get sandwiches in Polperro. And it’s not me. You see me all the time.”
“I need to ask a kayaker about a hiker.” Motts crossed the street toward the café. She inhaled the lovely sweet smell of baked goods. “Lunch, first. Questions, after.”
Ten minutes later, they were sitting at a little table across the street along the river. They’d managed to grab one with an umbrella to block the sun
. Motts scooted the chair up closer and began spreading their bounty out between them.
Steak and kidney pie, chilli with extra chips, a crab salad, brie wedges with redcurrant jelly. Motts’s mouth watered at the sight. She stole the chips out from under River’s fork.
“Oi.” He managed to get a fork into a few of the chips. “Share the wealth, Motts.”
They mostly evenly split all of the food. River didn’t complain, much, when she finagled well over half of the chips. He stole an extra brie wedge as revenge.
Sipping tea and eating their lunch, Motts filled her cousin in on the mystery hiker. He decided to stick around until Callie showed up. She had a feeling his parents would have words about him skipping out of work at the brewery early.
“Are we halving the pudding as well?” River retrieved lemon drizzle cake, lime and coconut cake, and millionaire shortbread. “We might regret all of this by the time we’re done.”
“When have we ever regretted dessert?”
“Once.”
“Pretty sure we were sworn to silence.” Motts shuddered at the memory. Years ago, her dad and uncle had taken the two of them on a camping trip. It had gone badly and not just because they’d fed the kids a dessert with a creamy custard well past its due date. “Never been so sick in my life.”
“Why don’t we split the shortbread, since we both love chocolate and caramel? You have the lemon drizzle. And I’ll take the coconut and lime.” River divvied up the treats. They did sneak tastes of each other’s cake. “Remember when my dad used to sneak us extra flakes in our ice creams when your family came to Polperro on holidays?”
Their trip down memory lane was interrupted by a cheerful shout from the river. Motts leaned over the railing to see Callie on her kayak. She told them to meet her a little further down the quay.
By the time they finished up their cake, tossed the refuse into the bin, and walked down the quay, Callie and her group had gotten their kayaks out of the river and on top of her slightly dented dark green Range Rover. Motts and River waited until the others had left. Callie joined them, sucking down water from a bottle like she’d trekked across the Sahara.
Callie finally put her water down and breathed out deeply. “Phew. Hard currents today. Glad to be on land.”
“Callie, River. River, Callie.” Motts waved between them. She hated making introductions; her mum had made her practice as a child. It still gave her anxiety. “Where’s Ashby?”
River snorted loudly, then turned his head away, coughing repeatedly. “I think I know your wife. It’s lovely to finally meet you. My cousin was wondering if you had a way of contacting your friend Ashby. She had a few questions about his time in Looe a few years ago.”
“That’s what I said,” Motts muttered. She elbowed River lightly in the side when he snorted again. “I know you’re laughing.”
“What? Me?” He grinned.
“So, aside from knowing we’re definitely inviting you both to dinner because we’re clearly kindred spirits, why do you want to know about Ashby?” Callie followed them down the street back toward the café. Their table was thankfully still open, so they grabbed it. “Let me grab a sarnie, and we can chat.”
Despite having already eaten more than was healthy, River apparently felt the need for more chips. Motts stayed at the table. She enjoyed the soft breeze off the river and tuned out the chatter from passing tourists.
She liked Looe, but the larger village was a little much for her, particularly in the summer. Polperro had a charm to it without being overcrowded. She was thankful her auntie Daisy had settled there instead.
Callie returned with her sandwich and a topped-up bottle of water. “So? What’s happened?”
Motts gave a brief update on the accusations thrown out by the O’Connell family. She didn’t believe Ashby was responsible for the murder. It didn’t make sense, but he might’ve noticed something about the family. “He doesn’t even have to come to Polperro if he’s still traumatised. I want to know what he remembers about his confrontation with Amy O’Connell.”
“Why don’t I give him a call and see what he thinks? Yeah? I can call you….” Callie trailed off when Motts shook her head rapidly. “I can text you?”
“Texting. Yes.” Motts came to the sudden realisation that she’d exhausted her social energy for one day already. She lightly kicked River’s foot, sending him a pleading glance. “Tolerable texting tends to treat.”
“Not your best alliteration.” River wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Right. My cousin needs to be off. Why don’t you call me when you hear from Ashby? I’ll see Mottsy tomorrow anyway.”
With a quick goodbye, Motts managed to be off on her bicycle. She owed River massively. Despite the clear blue skies, she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Opting for the shortest route home, Motts had never been so relieved to see the last turn down into Polperro. She decided to swing by the Griffin café. Nish or Vina could put together a little packet for her to nosh on later for tea; they’d also be kind enough to not press her for conversation.
The screech of what sounded like a squeaky shopping trolley wheel caused Motts to glance around sharply. She had a split second to register a wheeled cart flying across the road. It shot in front of her tyre, hitting it and causing it to lock up.
Motts careened over the handlebars and hit the road with a mighty thud. Her bicycle rolled down the hill out of control, barely missing a passing cabbie, who slammed on his brakes to miss her as she followed her bike. She crashed into the kerb with a painful crunch. “Bugger.”
The cabbie and a bystander quickly bundled her into his vehicle. Motts drifted in and out of awareness. She came round more fully in the clinic as the doctor and nurse checked her for injuries, much to her dismay.
“What did I say about being careful?” Teo stepped into the room despite the doctor and nurse protesting.
Motts ignored Teo and focused on the doctor. The cabbie had brought her (and her slightly bent bicycle) to the Polperro Health Centre, which was thankfully open. She hadn’t fancied a trip back to Looe. “Who called you?”
“Hughie. And Perry, after his wife called him frantic about you getting into an accident.” Teo had rushed into the doctor’s surgery, worried about her. “What happened?”
“Ask the cart. Or the cabbie.”
“You’re not making sense.” Teo glanced over at the doctor. “Is she concussed?”
“No, I don’t believe so.” The doctor frowned at the detective inspector. He returned his attention to Motts. “I believe you’ve escaped serious injury. I imagine you’ll be sore for several days. I’d stay off your bicycle.”
Given her bicycle tyre was ruined, Motts didn’t think she’d be on it for a while. Hughie had been by and promised to take it over to a repair shop. They’d hopefully work their magic.
The doctor stepped out of the room, leaving her with Teo. Motts tried not to fidget. Despite the doctor’s assurances, she felt every inch of her impact with the street.
“What happened?”
Motts frowned at Teo’s nose. “You asked already. I was minding my own business, cycling down the street. A little wheeled thing. Flat, no tall handle.”
“A platform trolley. It had a collapsible handle.”
“Yes, that. It flew across the street, connected with my tyre, and I went head over handlebars.” She glanced down at her arms and the rips in her T-shirt sleeves. The doctor had applied ointment to her various scrapes. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow. All I wanted was a cup of chai and something to take home for tea.”
“I’m sure your twins will deliver.” Teo helped her to her feet. “Why don’t I give you a lift to the cottage? I’m thinking you’ll want to stretch out on the sofa. Cactus will take good care of you.”
Not for the first time, Motts found herself grateful for Teo’s calm and quiet nature. He didn’t pepper her with questions. She limped out of the health centre and straight into the
passenger seat of his vehicle.
Teo got into his car, turning the engine on and then pausing to check his phone. “Village news travels fast.”
“Gossip, not news.”
“Either. One of your twins will be at your cottage by the time we get there. Hughie said Marnie flagged him down to tell him.” Teo pocketed his phone. “Tiny villages are powerful.”
“Gossip is powerful. Did you find the cart and who it belonged to?” Motts had something pulling at her memory. She tried not to think too hard in the hopes she’d remember. Where had she seen a hand trolley before? “Jasper O’Connell had one of those. He was delivering fish to Innis a few days ago. He lost control of it.”
“How does someone accidentally lose control of a trolley twice?”
“They don’t.” Motts shrugged, instantly regretting the movement. “Home.”
“Home it is.” Teo thankfully didn’t press for further conversation.
By the time they arrived, Teo had been proven right. And wrong. It wasn’t one of her twins. Both Nish and Vina were there.
“Oh, bugger.” Motts stared out of the car window at the multiple people waiting in front of her cottage. “I’ll stay in here. Thanks.”
“Cactus might miss you.” Teo reached over to squeeze her hand. “They’re only worried. It’s never a bad thing for people to care about you being hurt.”
Motts sighed.
“They know you’re here. They can see you.”
Motts sighed. Again.
“I can make them go away for now,” Teo offered. “I imagine they’ll be back to check on you by the evening.”
Deciding not to fight the inevitable, Motts forced herself to get out of the vehicle. Everything hurt. She wanted a hot bath, a YouTube marathon, and space to process the day.
“Mottsy.” Vina rushed over. She took Motts’s bag and gently led her toward the cottage. “River used his emergency key.”
“Of course he did.”
River held his hands up in surrender. “Mum made me.”
Motts was guided into her own cottage by her ridiculous friends and family. Cactus stayed over by the terrarium, obviously confused by the mild-mannered chaos. Motts shook off Vina’s hand. “I can walk fine. I’ve got bruises and scrapes, not a broken limb.”
Pierced Peony Page 8
