by Sonia Parin
“If I sound it, it’s because I feel it. One moment you’re here helping me with the decorations and the next you’re gone.”
“And you only now noticed me missing? I’ve been gone for over half an hour.”
“Yes, well… Markus didn’t grumble once so I thought he was you. Then I looked down to ask you a question only to find him scowling up at me.”
Abby apologized. “I’ll be back soon. I’m just waiting for Joshua…”
“Oh, you’re working on the case. You should have said so. I’ll leave you to it.”
Joyce ended the call leaving Abby to shake her head and smile. “When are people going to accept I only have one job to do? Report on the news.” Following the second train, she turned.
The next few seconds became a blur.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shape moving toward her.
The shape turned into a man.
Her intuition kicked in too late. She tried to get her legs to move but he had his arm around her neck and then his hand over her mouth…
Chapter 12
Abby tried everything she could to break free. After her initial struggle, her survival instinct kicked in and she tried to become a deadweight. Even that didn’t help her. He simply moved too quickly and had her bound and gagged in no time.
Overcome with panic, she tried to remain positive. She’d been blindfolded, so she told herself she would be fine. He had no intention of killing her.
Abby took a moment to calm down. Only then did she realize she still had one of her senses. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t talk. But she could listen.
She heard the man moving around from one room to the other, opening drawers and closet doors. He had to be looking for something and he obviously didn’t think she could help him.
Despite being blindfolded, she closed her eyes and thanked her lucky stars.
At least he hadn’t hurt her and, she insisted, the fact he had taken the trouble to cover her eyes suggested he had no intention of hurting her.
Could it be someone she knew? Someone she saw every day at the café?
Drawing in a calming breath, she tried to remember what she’d seen. Not his face. No, that had been covered. Or maybe he’d worn a cap pulled down.
How could she use her limited senses?
She focused on listening to the way he walked. He wore boots with thick soles. Yes, his footfalls resounded around her. Firm. Hard. Determined.
How would she describe him to Joshua?
Tall. Well-built. Strong. Could she determine his age from that? His arms had felt firm and solid. Was he a local farmer? Young? Old?
She heard his footsteps slow down and then stop only a couple of feet away from her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what thoughts he might be entertaining. Then again, maybe she could.
What to do with her…
If he knew her, he was probably thinking she was a smart cookie and might have discerned something about him. Something that would give away his identity.
Abby wanted to assure him she hadn’t seen anything. She fought against the urge to mumble against the gag in case he took it as a sign she wanted to say something which could easily turn out to be something stupid that might land her in deeper trouble.
She tried to focus on the other sense available to her but she could only smell air-freshener. Had she picked up the scent of aftershave lotion?
Toothpaste? Mouthwash? Beer? Something? Anything?
Joshua would want to know and she would have nothing for him.
So much for her observation skills.
A few seconds ticked by or maybe minutes. She couldn’t tell. When she didn’t hear anything, she mumbled a hello but didn’t hear a response.
A bead of perspiration trickled down her forehead. She felt the heat in the house thickening; something she hadn’t noticed before. The sprinklers might have been on an automatic system, but not the AC.
Joshua would come to her rescue soon. Even if he got sidetracked and forgot about her and drove back into town, he would eventually remember. And, if the business that had taken him away took longer than expected, Abby knew he would think of organizing someone to pick her up.
She heard one of the trains chugging past her. A moment later, the next one went by.
An eternity or maybe only a few minutes later, she heard the front door open and someone walk in. Then, Joshua called out, “Abby.”
In here, Abby thought. She tried to mumble it but the sound was muffled by the gag. Oh, she hoped the man had used something clean.
Ugh. What if he’d stuffed a sock in her mouth?
“Abby.”
Abby groaned. Hearing herself, she straightened and groaned louder.
“Abby?”
She knew the moment he saw her. He hurried toward her.
“What the hell?”
Relief seeped through her. He’d found her.
Joshua moved quickly and methodically, removing the gag and blindfold and then untying her hands.
Now that he’d taken the gag off, she tried to speak but her mouth felt as dry as sandpaper.
“What the hell happened?” he asked as he finished untying her legs. When he freed her, he drew out his phone to call for backup.
With her hands and legs free, she scrambled to her feet and went in search of water. Grabbing a bottle from the refrigerator, she leaned against the counter and drank the lot.
“Sorry, I should have offered you a drink.”
Pressing her hand against her chest, she nodded and between gasps, said “Thank goodness you came. I lost track of time.”
“If it’s any consolation, the sun has set.”
She looked toward the window and saw the light had softened. “That’s something.” Pulling herself together, she told him about the intruder. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see his face.”
“It’s okay. At least he didn’t hurt you.”
Looking around the kitchen, she didn’t notice anything out of place. A tidy intruder… “He was looking for something.”
Joshua nodded. “I think I can guess what that was. That phone call I got was from the solicitor.” He growled under his breath. “Damn idiot. He could have told me over the phone… He remembered Harold had made an appointment to come in and see him. Apparently, he’d wanted to change his will.”
They both knew only one person would be affected by that.
“His brother.”
Joshua nodded. “We’re trying to locate him.”
“On the bright side, you now have another suspect. You just don’t have the name.”
He gave a small nod. Hearing the distant sound of sirens, he said, “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“No… We should have another look around the house. There has to be something in here.” Abby grabbed another bottle of water. “And… How did he get in? I didn’t hear anything. I know I locked the door after you left.”
Joshua took that as a prompt to look around.
As he walked off, Abby went in search of the AC remote.
“The laundry door is unlocked but I don’t see any damage,” Joshua called out.
Either the intruder had a key or he knew how to pick a lock, Abby thought. “That’s the room furthest away from the sitting room.”
Joshua agreed. “He must have seen me leaving.”
And he must have seen Abby playing with the train set… Or… Had he been in the house all along?
Fanning herself, she asked, “I think I’m dehydrated.” She went back into the kitchen to get more water. As she drank it, she had a look inside the cupboards again. She didn’t think Harold would have had reason to hide any important documents, not when he had a solicitor and an accountant to take care of such matters, but one never knew. Also, they had no idea what they were looking for.
“Who else would have known about his plans to draw up a new will?” Abby asked.
“The solicitor and his receptionist.”
“And what are the cha
nces they mentioned it to someone else?” she called out.
“It’s possible.”
Abby inspected the pantry. “Harold liked baked beans. Pity he didn’t think of hiding something important among the cans.”
She wandered off and found Joshua in the workroom where he’d found a camera. “Anything interesting?”
He nodded. “He liked to photograph his model village.”
“Let me see.”
He scrolled through the images.
“Oh, that must be from yesterday, before he made the changes.” She walked over to the bookcase for a closer look and found a row of photo albums she hadn’t noticed before. “Heavens. It looks like every time he changed something he took photos.”
“I’m going to go look for a box.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m taking this in as evidence… for you to look over. If there’s anything of interest, I’m sure you will find it.”
“You’re kidding me. I’m a civilian… and a reporter.”
“You know you want to look through all those albums. Admit it.”
“Are you shorthanded again?”
He smiled. “You’re always offering to help. This is your chance. Besides, it should keep you busy for a while.”
“And out of trouble?”
To walked off saying, “Yeah, that too.”
Abby drew out her phone and typed in a text message.
“Why are you sending me messages?” he called out. “I’m right here.”
“I’m only returning the favor by suggesting what you should follow up on. Who slashed the out of town electrician’s tires? That crime went unsolved. Did anyone hold a grudge against Harold Moorhead? Talk with Martin Smith again and ask if he remembers who was in the store when Harold called him to place his order. Did George Mercer spend the day with his cattle or did he sneak away to kill Harold? And while you’re at it, find out how Harold knew what was going on in town? Whoever that person was, they must have known he’d planned on going into town.”
Joshua returned to the workroom. “What was that last one?”
“The person who gave him updates”
“What you said before that.”
“Oh, Harold never went into town and yet he knew what everyone was doing.”
Joshua started packing the photo albums into the box he’d found. “How do you know that?”
“Oh… The little figures in his model village. They’re not just there to take up space.”
He took the box out to the hallway and returned with another box.
“Oh, I just thought of something. The security cameras.”
“What about them?” he asked.
“They might have captured the intruder.”
“No such luck. They stop recording when you disarm the system.”
“Yes, but the intruder might have arrived before we did…”
He nodded. “Okay. We’ll check the recordings and we’ll look around the perimeter. We might find footprints.” As he finished packing the albums, they heard a few cars pulling up outside. “That must be the team now. I’ll take these out to the car and organize to have the place locked up after everyone leaves.”
“You’re not staying?”
“No, they’ll take care of collecting the information. I can sift through it tomorrow. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
She helped him carry one of the boxes to the car. “I’d like to know if Harold got along with George Mercer.”
“Without Harold, whatever George Mercer says will be hearsay.”
“Still, you can tell a lot by the way a person expresses themselves. He might let something slip. Something that might incriminate him.” Smiling, she added, “You have a full day to look forward to, detective.”
“As do you.”
Chapter 13
Joshua pulled up outside the residential entrance to the pub and helped Abby unload the boxes with the photo albums.
When he finished, he said, “If you find anything, don’t hesitate to text me.”
“You’re leaving?”
“There’s a cold shower waiting for me.”
His tie hung like a noose around his neck and his usually tidy hair poked out in places.
With his hands hitched on his hips, he held her gaze for a moment and then asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. The intruder has definitely given us something to think about.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely a clue. We just have to figure out what he was looking for.”
“We?”
He smiled. “I’m taking the road of least resistance.”
As Joshua turned to leave, Doyle burst in followed by Joyce and Faith.
“Abby! You’re alive.”
Doyle lunged for her. Abby managed to catch him and was then assaulted by his doggy kisses.
Joyce hurried toward her, her wings flapping.
“Um… Yes, I’m alive. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Elliot Barnes said there were police cars headed to Harold’s place. His wife’s been keeping a lookout and sending him the information.”
Abby exchanged a look with Joshua. Nodding, he left. No doubt to have a chat with Mrs. Barnes. Although, if she’d seen something or someone, surely, she would have approached the police.
Faith flung her arms around her. “What happened?”
“I think you’re all overreacting.”
“Not according to Mrs. Barnes. She says the place was swarming with police.”
Abby set Doyle down, saying, “Thank you for your concern, Doyle. But as you can see, I’m alive and well.”
“I called Mrs. Barnes to confirm what her husband had said and as soon as I got off the phone with her, Doyle started scratching the door and howling,” Joyce said. “He must have listened to everything I said and sensed my panic.”
“Yes, well… I need to get out of these sticky clothes and have a cold shower.” When she took a step, the others followed. “What are you doing?”
“Something happened. You’re being too dismissive,” Joyce declared. “I know you, Abby Maguire. You’re hiding something.”
She gestured to the boxes. “Have a look through those albums and see what you can find.” She hurried into the bathroom and, before Doyle could follow her inside, she closed the door.
Half an hour later, when she felt she had washed out the fear she had felt while she’d been bound and gagged, she emerged. While she’d been held captive, she had employed reason to calm down but the fear of what might happen to her had been there…
She found Joyce and Faith poring through the albums.
“This is amazing,” Joyce exclaimed and pointed to an album that sat on the coffee table. “He did the 1920s picnic we had at the lake. And… last month, when I went through my hot pink phase. It’s all here.”
“I think his ex-wives gave him the information, but I’d like to be sure.” Abby thought about the photos he hadn’t had the time to print out. Getting her computer, she set up the printer. “I have more photos.” She waved her phone.
“I’ll take care of it,” Faith offered.
“I called Mrs. Barnes,” Joyce said. “The police are still at Harold’s place.”
“They’re having a closer look.” Abby didn’t see the point in alarming them with a story about being bound and gagged.
The fact she hadn’t come to any harm still puzzled her. She imagined the man thinking he just wanted to find ‘it’ and get out.
He’d been prepared. Abby remembered seeing a black blur. She thought he must have worn dark clothes; black or maybe navy blue.
Leaning over Faith’s shoulder, she looked at the first photo she printed out. Pointing to it, she asked, “Who’s had a baby recently? That’s a pram outside the craft store.”
Joyce had a look and shook her head. “No one I can think of.”
Gesturing toward all the albums, Abby said, “Harold was precise. If there’s a pram, there has to be a baby
. I’m willing to bet if we look through those photos, we won’t find a pram. He only put the pram in the most recent display. It has to mean something.”
Joyce tapped her finger on the photo. “In that case, we’re looking for a baby boy. The pram is blue.”
“Perhaps someone visited,” Faith suggested.
“No,” Joyce disagreed. “This is recent. Actually, it’s current. See, I’m dressed in my elf outfit.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember anyone coming into the café with a baby pram.” She grabbed her phone and called Bradford. When she finished the conversation, she said, “He didn’t see a pram and Brilliant Baubles would have been a major drawcard for someone with a baby. I found a box full of antique toys and did the display window last week. Bradford’s been complaining about people leaving fingerprints on his window.” She walked around the small sitting room and placed another call.
“Who owns the craft store?” Abby asked.
Faith rolled her eyes. “Really? How long have you been living here? What sort of snoopy reporter are you?”
“It’s Genie Larson, Stevie Garth’s new wife and they’re on their honeymoon,” Joyce said.
“Oh, the sparky’s wife…”
Joyce nodded.
“Any chance she might be pregnant?”
“I haven’t heard any rumors.” Joyce shrugged. “You’re assuming Harold got his information from his ex-wives and they would only know about Genie being pregnant if they’d heard a rumor and since I haven’t heard it, it can’t possibly exist.”
Abby didn’t have the energy to question Joyce’s stalwart belief.
She changed the water in Doyle’s bowl and filled up his other bowl with his favorite doggy treats.
“I guess you’ve both had dinner.”
“No, Faith and I have been busy with the decorations.”
“I’ll order something.” She picked up the phone only to frown. She couldn’t let it go. “Why would Harold put a pram in front of the craft store if there isn’t a baby?”
“This is incredible,” Joyce remarked. “I’m looking at photos from six months ago and I remember wearing a black outfit when I went through my Audrey Hepburn phase. Look, here I am outside my café dressed in black. I think you’re onto something, Abby. There’s a reason for that pram. If he put it in his model village it’s because he or someone else saw it there.”
