“But if you and Willa married...”
“Yes, if she and I were together they might keep us both.”
“You to run Oxley Manor and Willa to pay for it.”
“You are exactly right.”
She took a breath. “But it all ended on one night.”
Clive took his time before speaking. “They didn’t even notice,” he said softly. “Nicky was engaged to Diana but she was gone for twenty-some hours before they realized it.”
“And Sean?”
“They would have let the horses starve before they bothered to feed them. When the police came late in the day, they fed and watered the poor creatures.”
“What do you think happened to those people?” She waited for him to say the M word again.
“I don’t think they’re alive.”
“Who...?”
Clive stood up, staring ahead at the garden. “I don’t know what happened that night but I do know that everything changed. They were all different after that.”
“It was a traumatic event.”
“It was more than that. Deeper. It’s like they all wanted to escape.”
“Escape what?”
“Themselves, I guess. After that night, Nicky started drinking more than his father did. When Byon got his show in London, he ran off without so much as a goodbye. Nadine immediately married some man none of us had heard of, and Bertram’s temper went from bad to vicious.”
He turned to look at her. “I knew there was something else going on. Something much stronger, darker, than just a couple running away together. Whatever it was, it terrified me. Frankly, the atmosphere scared me. I told Willa I couldn’t marry her, then I left. Whatever was going on at Oxley frightened me more than the outside world did. I took a train to London. I thought I’d spend my life washing dishes, but at least I’d be alive.” He sat down beside her.
“And did you? Wash dishes, I mean?”
He smiled. “For years I’d dealt with a Mr. Davies at Coutts Bank. I was always covering for Bertram, always trying to manipulate what little cash there was. The day after I arrived, I went to him. He was...he was the father I’d always wanted. He hired me for a bookkeeping job, then made sure I went back to school. I became a chartered accountant.”
“And now?”
His smile broadened. “Now I handle some of the biggest clients in the world. Last month someone specifically requested me. I spent four days with his family in their villa outside Paris. We did wine tastings, cooked, swam together. When I left, they told me to please stay with them anytime I’m in the country.” He said it all with pride, with a hint of defiance.
“That’s not how they thought you’d turn out.”
“I know.”
He sounded so proud that she laughed. “So maybe you came back to let them know that you aren’t what they said you were.”
Clive didn’t answer with words, but his smile told her that was exactly why he was there.
It looked like the others weren’t the only ones who didn’t care a flying fig about what happened to Sean and Diana, she thought.
“Shall we walk?” he said and they headed down the path. “So who’s here?” he asked.
“Nadine. I don’t think she and Sara get along very well.”
Clive laughed. “They wouldn’t. Nadine much prefers men to women. I read that her husband died recently.”
“Wasn’t he a viscount?”
“Oh yes. Byon said we were to bow to her and call her ‘my lady.’ Is he here?”
“Not that I know of. I didn’t see a Rolls.”
Clive laughed again. “A Rolls and a very good-looking young driver. Male.”
Kate nodded in understanding. “We’ve been told that Jack looks like Sean.”
“If Byon is here, he’d better lock his bedroom door.”
“Interesting.” Kate wanted to get back to the subject. “If Sean and Diana were murdered, who do you think did it?”
“Could have been any of them. They—”
“Good heavens! What happened there?” Kate said.
Clive followed her gaze. They’d reached the far corner of the estate. Before them was the fenced conservation area that was clearly marked for no trespassing. But the gate was standing open and inside, the tall grasses were trampled.
“Looks like the sheep got in,” he said. “Bertram bought them so he wouldn’t have to pay gardeners to mow. Nicky and Byon used to dress them up in clothes they found in the attic. They thought it was hilarious.”
Kate’s mind was racing. So this is where Jack ran off to. He wanted to remove all traces of their footprints so he picked the lock on the gate and drove the sheep inside. She was willing to bet that he stayed with them, playing shepherd so they didn’t fall down into the pit where Sean’s body was.
“Are you all right?” Clive asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. I think we should close the gate.”
“Good idea. I’ll just ramble around inside a bit to check if any sheep are still inside, then I’ll close it.”
“No!” Kate caught herself. She didn’t want him accidently stepping on vines and falling through—if he didn’t already know where the pit was, that is. “I mean, sheep travel in flocks, don’t they? So I’m sure they’re all gone.” She knew Jack would have counted them before he sent them out. So why didn’t he close the gate all the way? Or did he?
She looked at Clive. She had no idea when he’d arrived. He could have gone to check if anyone had discovered the hiding place.
As they closed the gate, she tried to let her face give nothing away. “Good heavens! Sara and Jack will be wondering where I am.”
“And I need to face them. Is Willa coming?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She was taking deep breaths to calm herself. Jack wouldn’t have left the gate open. So who did?
“Maybe we can go together,” Clive was saying. “When I face them, you can be my backbone. Byon and Nadine together won’t be as bad as Byon and Nicky, but still...”
They heard a motor and emerging from the trees was a man in a dark green utility vehicle. He stopped in front of them.
“Mrs. Guilford sent me up here to look at the fence.”
At least that’s what Kate thought he said. His accent was so thick she could hardly understand him.
“It looks like sheep got inside,” Clive said. “We closed the gate but there may be more in there.”
“Then they’ll have to stay,” the man said. “I was told to lock it but that I was not to go inside. I might upset the nests.” He seemed to think this was a great joke. He held up a new lock and Clive put it on the gate.
“Would you give us a ride back to the house?” Kate asked.
“Sure thing.”
She got on the wide bench seat beside him, but Clive said he’d rather walk. “There are still a couple of places I want to see.”
The driver took off, and as she waved to Clive, she wondered if he wanted privacy to check the pit. To see if it had been disturbed.
The driver was young and flirty and tried to impress Kate by driving as fast as possible across the bumpy land. But she was used to riding with Jack so speed didn’t faze her.
Besides, she was heavy in thought about Clive. Who was he really? A grown-up version of the angry young man she’d heard about? Had he learned to cover his true nature? Even if he’d changed, twenty years ago he was a volcano of anger—and rightly so.
The question wasn’t how he was now but what he was like then.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t tell the driver to drop her at the back of the house. He had taken her to the front. She thanked him and got out, then waited while three women came out carrying plastic carts full of cleaning supplies.
She greeted them but they hurried past her. Bella sure ran a
tight ship!
Just as Kate was about to step inside, she heard music. A piano and a man singing. She’d know Jack’s voice anywhere. Behind her was the chapel and she saw that windows had been opened. She had no doubt that Jack had done that. It was an invitation to...
“To us,” Kate said as she ran into the house to get Sara. But she was coming in the back, her camera around her neck.
“You heard it?” Sara asked.
“Like a beacon from a lighthouse. Let’s go!”
They went around the side to enter the chapel. Sara nodded at the hinges, and Kate knew what she meant. The marks they’d made earlier were now concealed.
As they had discovered earlier, the acoustics in the building were extraordinary. The piano and Jack’s beautiful voice filled the pretty chapel. The sound hit the ceiling, spread out, then flowed down the walls. As Kate and Sara sat down, they were engulfed with the music.
Sitting at the piano was a short, chubby, man, plain faced. He was someone you could see one minute but forget in the next. But they knew this had to be Byon, and his talent made up for his lack of looks.
Jack had his back to them and he was singing a lively song about some girl he’d met. Kate had never heard it before. She’d always marveled at his ability to remember the words to songs.
When she’d told him that, he’d looked at her in disbelief. “The music tells you the words.”
“But what if there’s no music being played?”
“There’s always music,” he said. “It’s inside my head.”
Jack didn’t see them, but Byon did. Abruptly, he stopped playing. “How about this instead?” He played a few notes of a melody.
“You’d kill me on that one. Too many high notes. Too many—”
As Byon began to play, the music drowned out Jack’s protests. When he got to the part where Jack was to come in, he did.
It was a song about lost love, and even Kate could tell that it took great vocal ability. And emotion. According to the lyrics, the woman he loved had died and the song showed his grief.
Sara and Kate knew where the grief in Jack’s voice came from. He’d had a hard time in his life and he put it into his voice. Only minutes into the song, Kate had tears running down her face. Sara was silently taking photos of Jack and Byon.
On the second verse, Nadine slipped in beside Sara. Minutes later, Clive sat down beside Kate.
When Jack’s voice perfectly reached those high notes, the four of them in the audience were in awed silence. At the end, he still had his back to them. “I missed that one note and—” he began.
Behind him, the four rose to their feet and began applauding. The building multiplied the sound until it was a roar.
Startled, Jack turned around. His face was red but he was pleased.
When a fifth person added to the applause, they all turned to look. Mrs. Aiken was at the back of the chapel, a big basket at her feet.
Still clapping, Nadine said, “Byon wrote that when Nicky died. Mrs. Aiken—”
“I know,” Sara said. “She loved Nicky.”
“Worshipped him,” Clive said, then he whistled and yelled, “Author! Author!”
Byon got up, took a bow, then held his arm out to Jack.
Jack’s face reddened more but they could all see that he was happy. It was a lifelong dream to him.
Finally, they stopped clapping and Jack came down to them. “I wasn’t sure about some of the notes. I...” He shrugged.
Kate didn’t say anything, just stood on tiptoe and whispered, “It was perfect.”
Jack nodded in thanks.
“You were wonderful,” Sara said and kissed his cheeks.
When Nadine also kissed him, the others looked on in surprise. Jack and Nadine obviously knew each other.
“Clive?” Nadine said, and held out her hand to shake his.
The three raised their eyebrows. It was certainly a cool greeting between old friends.
Byon was still onstage, apart and watching.
It was Mrs. Aiken who drew him in. She hurried down the aisle, pushed Nadine and Sara out of her way, then encapsulated Byon with her big arms. His face was smothered in her breasts. Her happiness, combined with the atmosphere of the church, made her look like she might float right up to heaven.
“So much for being a parasite,” Sara muttered to Kate, then turned to Nadine. “Likes him, does she?” Sara said.
Nadine shook her head. “More than you can imagine. I do hope she brought food.”
“Of course she did.” Clive was craning his neck to look around the chapel.
“Willa’s not here,” Nadine said, “so you’re safe.”
Clive let out a sigh of relief.
“But I bet her family owns shotguns,” Nadine said.
“As always, your humor evades me.” Clive’s tone let them see the angry young man they’d heard about.
Byon disentangled himself from Mrs. Aiken in time to hear the little jibes. “I see I nearly missed Round One.” He looked at Mrs. Aiken. “Darling, do feed us. No, not in here. I fear the sanctity of this building will persuade me to confess my sins. The enormity of them would crash the ceiling.”
In disbelief, the others watched Mrs. Aiken giggle like a teenager. “I’ll take it outside.”
“I have seen the light,” Sara muttered.
Byon slipped an arm around Sara’s small shoulders. “Aren’t you one of those writers with masses of bestsellers and loads of cash in the bank?”
Kate stepped forward to defend her aunt, but Sara laughed. “Awards or money. Writers don’t get both.”
Byon gave an exaggerated sigh. “Alas, I have walls full of awards and shelves full of ugly statues. Perhaps we could share.”
“I can see it now,” Sara said. “I’ll buy a label maker and put my name over yours.”
They started walking out the door together. “Yes, darling, and I will add my name to your account as your spouse.”
“Oh good! I’ve never had one of those,” Sara said. “But I’ve consummated a few unions.”
“Only a few? Darling, we must compare conquest stories.”
The others were standing in the doorway, watching and listening, as the voices faded.
“Someone who can stand up to Byon.” Nadine’s voice was admiring.
“Usually, people flee him in tears,” Clive said.
“Or threaten him.” Nadine was looking Clive up and down. “Bring any knives with you?”
“Only one for you, dear Nadine.”
They left the chapel.
Kate and Jack, standing inside, looked at each other.
“Think we have any suspects?” Kate asked.
“I think every person we’ve met here is capable of murder. Maybe they all did it.”
They were watching the others through the doorway as they sat down to the picnic.
“What you did with the sheep was clever,” Kate said.
“Stupid creatures. I nearly fell through that rusty old grating when I tried to keep them off of it. I just wanted them to run around, smash the grass and cover our tracks.”
“I guess you closed the gate after you got them out.”
“Of course I did. The sheep loved those virgin grasses, wanted to eat everything. It was tough getting them out. I latched the gate, but the lock was too rusty to put back on.”
“Latched it, huh?”
“What are you dancing around saying?”
“When Clive and I got there, the gate was open about two feet.”
“You and Clive? He’s too old for you. He couldn’t—”
Kate threw up her hands. “Would you stop it! Gate. Open. Get it?”
“Who—? I see. Think lover boy did it?”
“Clive isn’t my—” She glared at him. “I can see that Byon is al
ready in love with you. And you sound like it’s mutual. Be sure to hang your shirt over your bedroom doorknob to let everyone know you two are busy.”
Jack laughed. “Nadine’s the one who likes me shirtless. Oh, Sara is motioning for us to join them.”
“When were you shirtless around Nadine?”
He stopped in the doorway. “When she fainted at the sight of me and I carried her outside. I had to put a cold compress on her forehead so I used my shirt. She said I should have removed her blouse and used it. Too bad I didn’t think of that.” He went out the door to join the others.
“Bastard!” Kate muttered, and left the chapel.
They sat on the ground on a big blanket. Mrs. Aiken had ordered some of the cleaners to bring more food—and two pillows. Of course they were meant for her favorites, Nadine and Byon, but Nadine offered hers to Sara.
Jack and Kate hid their laughs. Sara hated anything that rang of “because you’re old.”
As they knew she would, Sara refused the pillow. “I’m fine.” She sat cross-legged on the blanket.
The group divided itself with Sara, Jack and Kate on one side, Nadine and Byon on the other side. Clive was at the head. He was separate from the rest of them.
There were sandwiches and the little pies the English so loved, pâté, pickles, olives and three kinds of bread. For dessert there were tarts covered in berries and clotted cream. It was a feast!
“How lovely,” Nadine said. “Just like it used to be. It’s almost as though we’re all here.”
“Except for Nicky.” There was longing in Byon’s voice.
“And Bertram is gone,” Nadine said. “Who is going to yell at us? Who—?”
“I want to hear about Willa,” Sara said.
The three English people barely lifted their eyes, but they exchanged looks. It was the most united they’d been since arriving.
Sara, with her keto diet, had a plate full of cheeses, sliced meats and olives. She looked at Byon. “What was she like?”
“Selfless.” Byon looked at the other two and they nodded in agreement.
“I got the idea she was a dreadful person,” Sara said. “A pest. Unwanted by anyone—except for her money.”
A Forgotten Murder Page 12
