The Dead Wife

by Sue Fortin

  ‘You think they—?’

  ‘I don’t think,’ interrupted Cameron. ‘I know. I just can’t prove anything.’

  ‘The police officer who dealt with this – do you remember their name?’ The goose pimples crept across her neck and swept down Steph’s spine.

  ‘I can’t remember her name but she was a right sourpuss from CID.’

  It had to be Wendy, surely. Steph gripped her glass to stop her hand from shaking. Wendy had warned her off getting involved. At the time Steph had thought it was for her own safety, but now it seemed increasingly likely Wendy was trying to protect herself. Just how much was her mother involved with the Sinclairs? ‘Weren’t there any witnesses in the pub who could have spoken up for you and made the police take the hit-and-run more seriously, or at least question the Sinclairs?’

  ‘No one wanted to come forward. Basically, no one wanted to cross the Sinclairs. To add insult to injury, the family cancelled my beer contract with them and the yoga classes I used to run up at Conmere.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  For the first time Cameron looked a little embarrassed. ‘Well, I took some compensation from them.’

  ‘They paid you off?’ The words came out unchecked.

  ‘Keep your voice down,’ hissed Cameron, giving the pub a quick glance. ‘Put it this way, they made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,’ he said in an adopted New York City gangster accent.

  They fell into a small silence as Steph contemplated Cameron’s revelation. At a push, she could imagine Harry being angry and possibly confronting him in the pub, but the idea that he’d punched Cameron didn’t sit that comfortably with her. It was hard to imagine Harry doing such a thing; he seemed so in control of his emotions, or at the very least kept his emotions in check. What little she knew of him, he didn’t strike her as someone who flew off the handle. So the idea that he had purposely run Cameron down in his car was verging on the ridiculous. Or was that because she didn’t want to believe it of him? She tried to nudge her own personal feelings to the side. Was the Harry of two years ago a different man to the Harry of today? Had the death of his wife changed him? Or was it just a different side of him she hadn’t yet witnessed? She hadn’t seen the vindictive side of him, the side where reprisal didn’t just mean at the public humiliation of a beating but also a premeditated and chilling act of violence, a potentially fatal action. And, as if that wasn’t enough, to pay for Cameron’s silence too. Was Harry capable of this? If he was, did it also make him capable of murder?

  ‘Look, I need to get back to the bar,’ said Cameron, breaking into her thoughts.

  ‘Yeah, sure. Thanks for talking to me,’ said Steph, standing up. ‘Oh, sorry, just one more thing.’ She rummaged in her bag and withdrew her notebook, flicking to the page where she’d made notes of some of the things in Elizabeth’s book. ‘Does Cameron 230 2206 mean anything to you?’

  Cameron craned his neck to look at the page. He shook his head. ‘Nope. Should it?’

  ‘Elizabeth wrote it in her notebook.’

  ‘Sorry, can’t help you there, but she never called me Cameron, always Cam.’

  ‘OK, thanks.’ Steph put the notebook back in her bag. Elizabeth’s handwriting had looked a bit rushed to Steph when she had copied it down. She’d go back and have another look at it.

  ‘Mind how you go,’ said Cameron. ‘You seem like a nice person.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m tougher than I look.’

  ‘All the same, watch your step.’

  Conmere, Sunday, 12 May, 6.55 p.m.

  When Steph arrived back at Conmere, the evening sky was clear and the residual sun still strong enough to warm her face. She loved evenings like this usually but tonight her enjoyment had been tainted by thoughts of Harry and the alleged attack on Cameron. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine Harry doing such a thing.

  Parking her car, she decided to go for a walk rather than back to her room, hoping the fresh air would help her think straight. With no particular destination in mind, Steph took a stroll through the resort. The car incident had certainly shaken her up, more than she had let on to Sonia and certainly more than the impression she had given Dominic. He would probably tell Harry, and Steph wondered if that would spur him into coming to see her. She was finding it hard to keep her burgeoning personal relationship with Harry separate from her undercover investigation into Elizabeth’s death. Her journalistic brain was telling her that statistically Harry would be the one most likely to have harmed Elizabeth, and yet the Harry she knew, the man she had spoken to on the terrace on Friday night, the Harry she’d spent time with on Saturday and the same Harry who had looked after her last night, was not one she could associate with killing anyone, let alone his wife.

  There was, of course, the Harry who confused her. The one who blew hot and cold in the time it took to say those words. She wanted to believe it was because he might be feeling guilty that he was betraying his wife’s memory, but there was also the possibility that the Harry she liked was fake and every now and then his mask slipped.

  She tried to set the facts out logically in her mind.

  He was the one who had found her in her lodge.

  He had access to a spare key.

  He was a prime candidate for having something to hide.

  He had known she was going out for a ride in the car today.

  He might be playing her. He might not actually be interested in her at all. She had to admit, this last notion hurt. She didn’t like the idea that he was using her to find out what she knew or whether she had an alternative agenda here. Which, of course, she did, but she didn’t want him to know that. She also acknowledged the double standards here.

  She couldn’t make sense of Harry, not yet.

  As she walked along the track which led towards the north of the resort she saw a lodge set back into the trees. It looked far grander than the regular lodges in the park. It was much larger and there was a veranda which ran across the front of the property. It reminded Steph of something she’d seen on American TV. She half expected an old-age pensioner to be sitting there on a swing seat, smoking a pipe.

  ‘Hello, can I help you?’

  Steph started at the voice behind her. She turned and saw a woman roughly her own age with a child of about five years and a double buggy with twin toddler boys.

  ‘Oh, sorry,’ said Steph. ‘I was just admiring this lodge. I’m a guest here – well, I was for the weekend, but now I’m staying on for the week to help out with housekeeping.’

  The woman’s face relaxed and she smiled. ‘Oh, you must be Steph. I was told about you.’ She put the brake on the buggy. ‘My name’s Natalie Sinclair; I’m married to Owen, Harry’s brother.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Steph, holding out her hand. She noted that Natalie had added the caveat of Harry’s brother and obviously knew that she and Harry were on good terms. She wondered how much Harry had told his family about their relationship.

  Natalie shook her hand. ‘This is where Owen and I live with this little gang,’ she said. ‘It’s close to the main part of the resort but far enough away to feel like we’re not living on top of his mother.’

  ‘I didn’t realise that. I assumed you lived in the main house or off-site,’ said Steph, once again admiring the facade of the property.

  ‘No. We’ve all got our own lodges. Dominic’s is over there, a bit behind ours, and Harry’s is the other side. Although Harry doesn’t like being in his too much since … since he’s been widowed.’

  Steph couldn’t believe her luck at the opening Natalie had given her. ‘Yes, it’s terrible what happened to Elizabeth. Of course, she was your sister-in-law; were you two close?’

  ‘We got on well,’ said Natalie. ‘There was a certain camaraderie between us. We were the interlopers into the family – the outsiders who became the insiders.’ She laughed. ‘I’m exaggerating, of course, but you know what I mean. It’s not always easy marrying into a ti
ght-knit family like the Sinclairs with Pru at the helm.’

  ‘But you get a beautiful home in beautiful surroundings,’ said Steph, hoping to keep Natalie at her ease. She was easy to talk to and willing to talk. In the few minutes they had spoken to each other, Steph had got the impression that Natalie was a bit lonely and was enjoying the chance to have a friendly chat. Cameron had already told her that Elizabeth had felt lonely – had she been desperate for a friend in the weeks and months before she died?

  Steph looked down at the twin boys in the buggy and the older child, a girl, who was crouched down investigating something in the dirt. ‘You look like you have your hands full.’

  ‘Oh, they keep me busy all right,’ said Natalie. ‘The boys came along rather sooner than anticipated and at double the number than anticipated.’ She spoke warmly about the children and Steph could see just from her expression how much she adored her family.

  ‘Have they got any cousins?’ asked Steph, already knowing the answer.

  ‘Dominic has a teenage son from his first marriage who lives with his mother, and he’s got a daughter, who’s seven, with his partner, Lisa. Their daughter is a great playmate for Tilly.’ She nodded in the direction of her daughter.

  ‘Harry doesn’t have children?’

  Natalie threw a look that told Steph she was surprised by the question. Steph quickly covered herself. ‘I’m assuming he doesn’t, as he hasn’t mentioned them.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Natalie, with what sounded like a touch of sorrow. ‘He would have made a good dad, but Elizabeth wasn’t too keen.’ She stopped and suddenly looked embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse me, gabbling on like that. Owen is always telling me I talk too much.’

  ‘Oh, it’s OK,’ said Steph, touching Natalie’s arm as if they were old friends. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’

  The sound of a diesel engine made both women look round and Steph saw a taxi coming to a halt in front of them. Owen Sinclair emerged and looked at her. Then, walking over to them, he kissed Natalie on the cheek and made a fuss of the children before saying hello to Steph.

  ‘I was just taking a walk,’ said Steph. ‘I was admiring your house when I bumped into your wife.’

  Owen nodded but his face was unsmiling.

  ‘What are you doing in a taxi?’ asked Natalie as the car performed a U-turn and drove off. ‘Where’s your car?’

  ‘Bloody thing,’ said Owen. ‘Something to do with the electronics. Managed to disable itself. Someone from the garage is going to look at it.’

  Natalie gave a sigh. ‘And they say German cars are supposed to be some of the most reliable cars.’

  Steph tensed at this comment. German? The car that had run her off the road had been an Audi. Owen’s car was in the garage needing fixing – apparently it was the immobiliser – but could it be an Audi? She looked at Owen, who glared back at her. ‘Actually, my car needs to go into the garage too,’ she said, hoping she sounded light-hearted. ‘I had a bit of trouble with it this afternoon. I managed to slide off the road and hit a fence. The bodywork needs repairing.’ She watched Owen’s face for any sign he knew what she was talking about.

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Natalie. ‘I hope it doesn’t cost you too much.’

  ‘I hope so too,’ said Steph.

  ‘I need to make a few calls about the car,’ said Owen, taking Tilly’s hand. He nodded a goodbye at Steph and walked off towards the lodge.

  ‘I’d better go in too,’ said Natalie, twirling the buggy round. ‘Nice talking to you. Might see you again in the week.’

  ‘Yeah, that would be nice,’ said Steph. She watched them walk away, unsure what to make of Owen. He wasn’t like either of his brothers, who came across as confident, possibly over-confident at times. Owen was more … she scratched around for the right word … timid. He showed great bravado but it was just a show, she was sure. She’d seen the way his eyes were always darting around as if he was some sort of prey and danger was hot on his heels. The little tic he had running his hand across the back of his neck – she’d noticed him doing that more and more.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Conmere, Sunday, 12 May, 7.05 p.m.

  Steph still felt unsettled as Natalie and her family unit disappeared into their home. She turned and continued walking through the woods, finding herself navigating in the vague direction of Dominic’s house. She wasn’t sure what had made her do so, but it wasn’t long before she came upon another super-lodge, which could only belong to Dominic.

  It was a Colonial-style house and looked as if it should be in the glossy pages of Vacation Staycation as a luxury home to rent for those families with an equally luxurious income. It was more modern and certainly more ostentatious than Owen’s. It was bigger, for a start, and if the size of the picture window in the staircase was an identifier as to rank within the family, then Dominic’s won hands-down. The porch didn’t just sit at the front of the house as his brother’s did, it wrapped itself around both sides of the property. There was also a matching first-floor balcony and two sets of double doors opening onto the front of the balcony from either side of the feature window. The driveway swept in a loop around a central grassed area and there was a double garage on the far side.

  Wow. It looked like serious money here.

  Keeping to the path and away from the boundary fence which marked Dominic’s private residence, Steph worked her way around the perimeter, but the high fencing and heavily planted shrubs and bushes ensured this part of the house was kept extremely private.

  The trees at the back of Dominic’s house were denser and the height of the trees blocked out much of the light, leaving Steph feeling somewhat colder than before. As she left Dominic’s house behind her, she knew she was now consciously seeking out Harry’s house. She was dying to know what sort of property he and Elizabeth had lived in, not necessarily because she thought it would help with her investigation, but because she wanted to know what Harry’s tastes were like. She wanted to know as much about him as she could. Even to her own mind, it sounded borderline stalking, but she was so drawn towards him, it was unnerving.

  The crack of a stick made Steph spin round. She half expected to see someone walking along behind her, but there didn’t seem to be anyone there. She completed a 360-degree turn, scanning the forest for any sign of movement. One tree blurred into another as she completed a second turn. No one and nothing was there. All at once, she felt unexpectedly afraid.

  The need to get out of the forest and back onto the main part of the resort meant Steph having to abandon her idea of finding Harry’s lodge. She picked up the pace, calculating that retracing her steps would take significantly longer than trusting her sense of direction and heading further round in a circle towards the resort. She estimated she had almost completed a semicircle around Dominic and Owen’s houses.

  Another crack of a branch and a rustle of the leaves had Steph looking back over her shoulder again. The forest seemed even darker now and she wondered if another bout of rain was about to hit. A movement in her peripheral vision had Steph whirling round. A dark shape darted behind a tree. Her breath caught in her throat, memories of the intruder from the night before orbiting to the fore. There was another noise, indistinct, coming from the same direction and she thought she saw something move again.

  Steph spun on her heel. She could feel panic taking over, forcing her to break into a run. She didn’t know where she was going but she was running as fast as she could away from whatever it was. Then there came a thudding noise that sounded like feet hammering the earth. She threw a look over her shoulder as she continued to run.

  From out of the foliage sprang a deer, followed by another and then another. They galloped across the path, disappearing for a few moments, before appearing again as they wove their way in and out of the trees.

  ‘Deer!’ cried Steph in relief. ‘It’s only deer.’ She slowed her pace and as she turned to see where she was going she ran straight into some
one. This time she let out an ear-piercing scream as two hands grabbed her shoulders.

  ‘It’s OK. Steph! It’s me, Harry.’

  Steph took a moment to compute the words and to register the voice. She gave in to the struggle and focused on the face before her. ‘Oh, God. I mean, thank God.’

  Harry’s grip loosened on her arms. ‘What was all that about?’

  Steph took a deep breath and slowly got her breathing under control. ‘I was being silly,’ she said, feeling embarrassed now. ‘I heard something behind me back there. I thought someone was following me. Turned out to be deer.’

  ‘Ah, the deer. Yes, we’ve got quite a lot of them in the forest. I thought you knew that?’ He smiled with amusement.

  Steph felt even more silly now. ‘I knew that, I just spooked myself, that’s all.’ She gave a look which dared him to challenge her. ‘Anyway, what are you doing creeping around in the woods?’

  He chuckled. ‘Not exactly creeping around.’ He turned and pointed over to his left. ‘That’s my house right there. I was coming out to top up the bird feeder when I saw you running right this way.’

  Steph looked beyond him and sure enough, there was another lodge-styled house sitting in amongst the trees, this one smaller than the other brothers’ houses, but one whose finish stood out above those for holidaymakers on the resort. There was a laurel hedge and a wooden gate opening out onto the forest from the back garden.

  ‘Have you been here all afternoon?’ she asked.

  ‘No. I was out with Owen earlier.’

  ‘Owen?’

  ‘Yeah. We went into town. A bit of time together. I haven’t seen him for several months. It was good to catch up, just the two of us.’

  ‘Actually, I saw Owen and Natalie a little while ago. He said about his car.’ She purposely didn’t expand, waiting to see what Harry had to add.