“Yes. Of course they are.”
At the top of the stairs, they took a left turn, and then their room was immediately in front of them. On the other side was one other door, and if they had turned to the right there would have been two more rooms. Allie preferred this floor as it had four rooms, unlike the floor below that had five—odd numbers weren’t really her cup of tea.
“Look, we’ve got post!” said Jackie excitedly before she’d even opened the door.
Sure enough, they could see the edge of white paper sticking out about half an inch, the rest of it under the door and inside their room.
Jackie quickly opened the door.
She was always excited when she got post. Even though Allie reminded her at least twice a week that the only things she received with any regularity were junk mail and bills, she still acted like a kid at Christmas upon receiving anything with her name on it.
When they had both hurried in, Jackie squatted down and snatched it up. It was a single piece of A4 paper, and it had been folded neatly in half. There was no envelope.
“Now let’s see...” said Jackie as she unfolded the paper.
Allie watched Jackie’s face, since the way Jackie was holding it right in front of her, she couldn’t actually read it herself.
At first, Jackie’s face was all wide, excited eyes and excited bottom-lip biting. Then, her eyebrows went up and her brow furrowed. After that, her mouth dropped open. Finally, she finished off with a scream.
Allie jumped back in nervous surprise. She hadn’t been expecting the scream. That wasn’t what Jackie normally did when she got post.
“What is it? Who’s it from?”
Jackie raised one hand to her now quiet mouth and covered it. The other hand was now shaking, and she slowly handed the letter over to Allie.
She quickly scanned her eyes over it. “Oh.” Then she read the words. “OH!” she said again. Her hands began to shake too.
“Let me see that again!” said Jackie, snatching it back from her.
Allie hurried to stand beside her so that they could both read it again together. When she did so, she knew the words would be burned in her mind forever.
The text had not been hand-written or printed with a computer, it had been made by cutting out words from newspapers and magazines and sticking them all together onto the paper to create a message.
It said:
HAWTHORNE DOESN’T WANT U. STAY OUT OF IT! OR DIE!
While Allie was reading it for a second time, Jackie pushed past her, closed the door to their room fully, and twisted the lock shut. It closed with a reassuringly solid thunk.
“What are we going to do? Who do you think sent it?” said Jackie, leaning back against the door as if to make sure it stayed closed.
“I suppose the murderer sent it,” said Allie thoughtfully. “Either that, or someone who doesn’t want the murderer to be discovered.”
“You don’t think it could be someone who just doesn’t like us for some reason?”
Allie shrugged. “I suppose it could be. Have you ever gotten a letter like that before?”
“Not since primary school,” said Jackie, “and that was just kids messing around after watching too much Poirot on the telly.”
“Then it must be related to the murder.” Allie held the letter up to look at it again. “I suppose this could be good—in a way.”
Jackie did not look like she agreed. “How could that be good?”
“Well,” said Allie, nodding to herself as she thought it through, “the murderer wouldn’t have sent us this letter unless they were worried we would find something, right?”
“Maybe,” said Jackie dubiously. “I don’t know many murderers.”
Allie frowned at her. “How many do you know?”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “None. I know no murderers.”
“Well, you should have said that. Think before you speak, Jackie. No, I think I’m right. The murderer is getting spooked by our investigations.”
“So, do you think we should leave, then?”
“Of course not! This means we’re getting somewhere. It means we can crack it, Jackie. Why risk sending us the note if they didn’t think we were capable of discovering them? I can’t think of a reason.”
“I suppose, perhaps, maybe you’re right. What are we going to do?”
“Let’s see if we can find Michelle and see what she’s got to say. Maybe she saw who put it under the door.”
“I guess that makes sense. Do you think he’s gone?”
“Unless they’re staying here, they must have. Who would hang around otherwise?”
Jackie had picked up a candlestick from the small wooden ornamental table that was against one of the walls.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“I was thinking I might brain the murderer, if they come after us.”
“Oh. Anyway, I’m sure they’re not after us yet. That note was to make us leave, right? So, they’re likely to at least wait and see if we’re leaving before they decide to murder us. That would be the logical way to do things.”
Jackie swung the candlestick around experimentally. “Do you think so? Are most murderers logical?”
Allie shrugged. She didn’t know how logical the average murderer tended to be, though the fact that this one had gone to the trouble of writing and leaving them a note, anonymously, showed that they were at least capable of planning ahead; this wasn’t something done in the heat of the moment.
“Maybe,” she said. “Anyway, I think you should put that down for now. Michelle might think you’re trying to steal it otherwise.”
Jackie grinned. “That would be funny, wouldn’t it? Shall we call the police before or after we speak to Michelle?”
“Police?” said Allie with a frown. “We’re not going to call the police.”
“We’re not?”
“Nope,” said Allie shaking her head. “Remember, we’re not supposed to be doing this investigation. Eddie made it clear that it was all strictly off the record. If his chief finds out that we’ve been running our own investigation... well, needless to say, it’s probably not in our best interests.”
Jackie eyed her sister dubiously. “If anything else happens, I think we should tell them.”
Allie thought for a moment. “Okay. If the murderer tries to kill us, we should definitely tell them.”
Jackie did not look happy at that particular thought.
“Put down that candlestick, unlock the door, and let’s go see if we can find Michelle.”
Chapter 13
Michelle was downstairs, just returning to her desk when they descended from their room. They had gone down the stairs quietly, listening out for anything or anyone suspicious, but there had been nothing.
“Hi, girls. How are you getting on?” said Michelle with her professional hotelier smile.
“Terrible,” said Jackie.
“Great,” said Allie.
Michelle flicked her head back and forth between the two of them as if deciding which one of them she wanted to follow up on.
“What’s the matter?” she finally said to Jackie.
“Look at this,” said Jackie, and before Michelle could offer a response, she had thrust the death threat in front of her.
Michelle gently took the paper from Jackie’s hand, snatched up a pair of reading glasses from her desk, and peered at the paper. The short message barely took more than a couple of seconds to read.
“Oh,” she said when she was done. “Oh.” She removed the reading glasses and looked at Allie and Jackie again with a look of mild consternation. “What’s this?”
“It’s a death threat,” said Allie, mildly perturbed by the silly question—hadn’t Michelle just read it? “It was put under our door while we were out. Someone doesn’t want us here, by the looks of it.”
“I’m sure it’s not a real death threat,” said Michelle dismissively. “It’s probably just someone messing about.”
&
nbsp; Allie shook her head slowly as she processed Michelle’s words. “No. It’s definitely a death threat. Look! At the end it says, ‘OR DIE’, that’s not very jokey, is it?” Allie paused, reconsidering. “Am I missing something again? Is it jokey?” she said, turning to Jackie.
Jackie immediately shook her head. “No way. This doesn’t look like a joke to me at all. It’s really freaking me out.”
Michelle gave them a tight smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Why don’t you just throw it away and forget all about it?”
Allie was not pleased at this response.
She expected the owner of a B&B whose residents were getting to death threats to be taking it a little—no, a lot—more seriously.
“Have you seen anyone in here today? Has anyone come in, apart from the guests?”
Michelle shook her head. “Not that I can recall. I didn’t see anyone.”
“What about the cleaner, Gladys, is she here?”
Michelle shook her head. “No. She comes in the afternoon today. She does a house in the morning.”
“So, there’s no one here who saw who it was.”
“Maybe it was kids just fooling around.”
“Is that a problem in Hawthorne?” asked Allie in puzzlement. “Do kids here often give out death threats to out-of-towners?”
“Well, no,” said Michelle shiftily. “But who knows what they get up to when they’re bored.”
“You don’t seem to be taking this very seriously,” said Allie, getting frustrated.
Michelle crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Look, it’s just a bit of paper. I wouldn’t get yourselves worked up about it.” Something appeared to cross her mind, and she became a little more contrite. “Umm, well you weren’t going to tell anyone about this, were you? Like the... police?” She said the final word very quietly, as if the mere mention of their name could do untold harm to her business.
“Actually, we weren’t going to contact the police yet,” said Allie. “They’ve got enough on their plate solving the murder. And, well, we don’t want them to know that we’ve been asking a lot of questions.”
Michelle’s smile was broad. “Good. I don’t want word getting around about this either. It’d be bad for business, you know.”
“What, kids playing pranks?” said Jackie sweetly.
Michelle didn’t reply to her.
“You don’t have any CCTV or anything, do you?” asked Allie as she peered around hopefully.
Michelle shook her head. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I don’t even have a burglar alarm since the building’s never empty. No, if no one saw anything, then, well, no one saw anything.”
“Thanks, Michelle,” said Jackie with something akin to the opposite of a thankful look on her face. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Before Allie could correct her, Jackie had taken her by the arm and was pulling her back towards the staircase that led to their room.
On their way up, Allie finally yanked on Jackie’s arm and got her to stop.
“Before you ask, no, I didn’t think she was very helpful. I think she might be hiding something.”
Chapter 14
Allie went around the back of the building to where the small outside carpark for both the B&B and Bree’s cafe was located. Her silver Toyota was parked where they’d left it, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of threats.
Sometimes Allie liked to go for a drive, just to think. She often found it hard to do that at home. Even if Jackie wasn’t there with her noise and mess and other chaos, there was always something to be done. Whether it be cleaning the windows, tidying the refrigerator, getting the sink plugs perfectly clean, or getting the living room rug exactly straight, there was always something that needed doing. That made it hard to just relax and think.
So, when she needed to just relax, there was nothing like going for a drive.
Allie loved her car. It wasn’t new, it wasn’t fast, and it wasn’t worth a lot of money. But it had two things going for it: it was reliable, and it was one of the few things she had of her mother’s.
Allie’s mother died when she was a teenager, and that’s when she had been adopted by Jackie’s family. She’d already felt like part of the family, but the adoption had made it official.
Jackie’s parents had, at Allie’s youthful and recently-bereaved insistence, kept her mother’s car for her. As soon as she had turned seventeen, they helped pay for her to have driving lessons, and it had been her little refuge and a reminder of her mother ever since.
Whenever she got in it, she felt like she was home. She didn’t have to pay rent to anyone to be in it, and there was no one else’s name on the deeds. It was hers and hers alone, unlike their rented flat or their regular B&B room.
She unlocked the car by sliding the key into the mechanism without even needing to look. She could tell by touch which way up to hold the key, and her hand always glided the key into the lock without even touching the sides.
She had it down to a fine art.
She slipped the key into the ignition and twisted it. As always, it started first time, shuddering happily to life. Allie quickly backed the car out of the space, drove down the narrow passageway that separated the building from its neighbour, and joined the village High Street.
She didn’t have anywhere specific in mind. She just needed to clear her head and do some thinking. It was one of the best things about being in the Cotswolds—she could head in pretty much any direction and be guaranteed quiet, country roads, beautiful views and, if she avoided the known bottlenecks around the various towns, no traffic.
Ten minutes after sitting in the car, she had already taken three different turns down country lanes. She wasn’t trying to get lost, as such, but she was keen to discover new secrets she hadn’t seen before.
She estimated that she wasn’t all that far from ‘downtown’ (if such a word could be applied to such a quiet place) Hawthorne when disaster struck.
Absolute disaster.
She came to a stop at a quiet T-junction with the intention of making a right turn and heading towards a distant hill that promised a beautiful view.
When she put the car into first gear to accelerate away, it merely jolted. She’d stalled it. She never stalled it. In fact, she wasn’t sure she even could stall it, so ingrained was her muscle memory for this car.
“That’s weird,” she said.
She tried turning the key to restart the engine. Nothing happened. At all.
There was no whining sound, no sound of a starter trying to start, nothing. Just... silence.
She didn’t know what to do.
It had never broken down on her before. She’d maintained it well, of course, taking it in for services and oil and tyre changes and all the rest of it, and it had repaid her by never letting her down. Until now.
She tried turning the key again. Nothing happened. And again, with the same result. After three attempts, Allie gave up on re-starting the car. It needed fixing, that was for certain.
With a sigh of regret she pulled out her phone to begin the process of finding a mechanic to rescue her.
“Of course,” she said with a sigh and shake of her head when she saw the screen—no bars. She was probably only a mile or two from Hawthorne as the crow flew, but she wasn’t sure she knew exactly which direction to go.
Death threats and a broken-down car in the same day? That just wasn’t fair.
BEEP BEEP
She looked in the rear-view mirror. There was a car being driven by an idiotic man behind her. She knew he was an idiot, because only an idiot would assume she was sitting there for the fun of it. No one parks their car at a junction for fun, do they? Well, she certainly didn’t think they did.
BEEP BEEP
BEEP BEEP
She couldn’t think. The incessant sounding of the horn from the car behind her was making it impossible for her to work out what to do.
Allie undid her seatbelt, opened the door, and began to
walk towards the car driven by the idiot. Perhaps he could help her. Maybe his phone would have a signal, and if not, maybe he could drive her into town to find a mechanic. Failing all of that, she could at least explain to him she hadn’t parked there only to annoy other drivers.
She was halfway to his vehicle when suddenly he turned his steering wheel and accelerated around her Toyota. It was with another series of loud beeps that he drove around her car, turned right, and sped off down the road.
“Thanks,” said Allie, shaking her head to herself.
“I didn’t do anything, yet,” came a strange voice.
She literally jumped in the air, spinning around and stepping backwards when she landed. She took another step backwards, tripped over the curb, and fell back onto the grassy bank that met the edge of the road. From her position, now sitting on the ground, she got her first good look at the stranger.
He appeared to be in his late twenties and was looking at her intently with deep brown eyes and a surprised expression on his face. He brushed a hand through his dark brown hair before speaking again.
“Let me give you a hand.” And immediately he did, stepping towards her and offering her a strong-looking hand. She was so flustered by the sudden appearance of the handsome stranger that she almost accepted it.
But she didn’t know where it had been.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said as she stood up by herself. “But my car isn’t.”
He didn’t seem offended by her rejection of his hand.
“What’s the matter with it?”
“It was working, now it isn’t working. I don’t really know all that much about cars.”
“Then I guess you need a mechanic. Did you call one?”
She shook her head. “No signal. And I don’t know the number of any mechanics around here. I don’t suppose...”
He patted the boot of her car absent-mindedly. “Sure. I know a guy. And he won’t rip you off, either—well, he won’t if I speak to him first.”
Allie wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was being very kind, but the kindness of strangers made her feel uncomfortable. She liked to be in control of everything and being in gratitude to someone she’d only just met meant that she lost some of that control.
An Alibi A Day Page 9
