‘Goodness, so it is. I’ll be in trouble again with them if I’m not careful.’
Jean talked with Helen as they waited outside the school, but Helen didn’t mention anything about their visit to the garden centre.
Lexie wanted to talk to her mother. She would hate it if Tilly assumed she was nothing more than a mother. But did that mean she didn’t think it was important enough?
Tilly refused to let Lexie give her a bath that evening and Jean took all the girls upstairs. Lexie sat on the sofa, not exactly sorry to miss the evening chore. It was Tilly’s way of letting her know she still hadn’t been forgiven for the previous day. On the floor in the corner of the room was the magazine she’d bought in the supermarket. It looked as though Tilly had cut out a lot of the pictures. Lexie rescued the magazine from the pile of cuttings and flicked through it. Fortunately the article on Dominique Santos was still mostly intact.
Lexie read it. As she’d noticed in the supermarket, the article was very different in tone to Veronica’s other work. She had been hoping to learn something about Dominique Santos. Something that might give her a clue as to the connection between Dominique and her mother, but there was very little personal stuff. Lexie guessed Veronica must have been frustrated with the interview. She was known for her salacious, gossipy articles based on nothing more than a rumour.
There was nothing to suggest whether Dominique was or had been married, had a partner, or what her sexual preferences might be. In Veronica’s terms it was very tame.
Lexie closed the magazine, but the front cover came off in her hand. On the inside front page was a list of editors and writers, and at the bottom, in smaller print, the words Icon (part of the Webber Media Group).
Did that have any relevance to what Patrick had told her about Caroline? Lexie frowned and shook her head. It could simply be a case of synchronicity and she’d only noticed it because Patrick had brought the media company to her attention.
Her father wandered into the room. ‘Lexie, I know we were originally leaving in a few days, but I’m needed back at work so we’ll have to go tomorrow morning.’
‘That’s a shame, but maybe you’ll be able to come down again soon.’ Damn. She wouldn’t get a chance to have a proper talk with her mother during this visit.
After her father went to pack, she looked at the magazine cover again. It was news to her, but obviously Patrick knew Icon belonged to Webber Media. She was taking this whole thing much too seriously, almost as if she believed his conspiracy theory. Patrick talked about writing his stories for the paper. Perhaps this was another.
10
After her parents left the following morning, Lexie walked up the lane to Evelyn’s. The back door was locked which was unusual. Evelyn’s routine was to put out food for the birds in the garden, and then she left the door closed but unlocked until she went to bed. Everyone came to the house from the lane, and on the days when Evelyn didn’t feel so good it was easier for people to call out and walk into the house. Lexie had mentioned a couple of times this wasn’t safe, but Evelyn had laughed and said that while Nettleford was larger than it used to be, she trusted the people living there, and besides, it hurt too much to get up and answer the door.
Lexie had planned to get Evelyn an alarm but felt better when she knew Evelyn had a mobile phone as well as the cordless.
She knocked on the door and called out. ‘Evelyn, its Lexie. Are you okay?’ She didn’t want to call out Patrick’s name, but surely he would hear her if Evelyn didn’t.
There was no answer.
Lexie wandered around the side of the house trying to look in the windows. She couldn’t make out much through the frosted glass of the bathroom, and Evelyn’s curtains were pulled shut. Annoyingly, they fitted well with no gaps. She tapped on the window and called out again.
The small panes of glass in the window section next to the front door were frosted glass, but not as thick as those in the bathroom. Lexie stared through trying to make out the colours and shapes. Something was wrong.
There was the brown of the stair carpet, but to the left, where there should be beige walls, was a darker shadow. What the hell? The small pane of glass at the top wasn’t frosted. Evelyn had told her that Patrick broke it when he was a boy, and she’d kept the plain glass there as a reminder for him.
Lexie looked around to find something to stand on to look through the top pane. Her heart beat uncomfortably making her feel sick, and she rubbed her chest in an effort to get rid of the nausea.
She dragged one of Evelyn’s large terracotta flower tubs towards the door. It was heavy, and the gravel on the path made it hard to move. She pulled and shoved but found it hard to get much momentum.
‘Come on,’ she muttered and swore as the tub swiped her toe.
Gradually she inched it towards the door, sweating with the effort. She pushed the pot onto its side and the soil and plants tumbled onto the gravel path. Sorry about the flowers, Evelyn. Hell, why hadn’t she done this before? She rolled the large tub over to the door and turned it upside down. Her hands and arms trembled with the effort of getting this far.
She put her left foot on the base and gave a couple of preparatory attempts. It was a large step up. She clung onto the door frame with trembling fingers and pushed herself up as hard as she could, cracking her head on the overhang of the front porch. Bloody hell, that hurt, but at least she was on the tub. She crouched to look through the plain glass.
Her stomach heaved. She stumbled and fell off, sprawling on the gravel. Her stomach heaved again and acid filled her throat. She crawled over to the flowerbed and threw up on the soil amongst Evelyn’s shrubs. Every part of her shook. She sat on the gravel, wrapping her arms around her knees. A keening noise filled the air. She’d never heard such a sound. It came from her. Still she shook. Even when she closed her eyes, she could see Patrick hanging from the beam.
She sniffed and rubbed her fist across her eyes. Her stomach ached, and her throat and mouth had a harsh, metallic taste. She dragged her phone out of her pocket with shaky hands and jabbed at the familiar speed-dial number.
‘Hiya, Lexie, what’s up?’
She tried to speak, but she couldn’t stop sobbing.
‘Lexie?’
‘It’s… it’s…’
She heard the alarm in Nathan’s voice. She had to tell him she was okay, but she needed him. Now. ‘I’m at Evelyn’s. Patrick’s dead. He’s hung himself. Please come.’
Acid filled her throat. She dropped the phone as she turned onto her knees and threw up again.
When her stomach had emptied itself, she crawled over to the step and sat hugging her knees until she heard a car hurtle into the area on the other side of the house. She struggled to her feet and lurched around the house to meet Nathan.
It felt so good to have him hold her, and for a moment she didn’t want to move, but they had to find Evelyn. Lexie kept hold of his hand and took him to the far side of the house.
Nathan climbed onto the terracotta tub and looked through the glass. ‘We’d better call the police.’
‘Please, let’s find Evelyn first, a couple of minutes isn’t going to make any difference.’
Nathan looked around and picked up a brick from the edging of a flower bed. ‘The back door will be best for getting in.’
Lexie held his hand as they went to the back door. It felt like years since she’d walked up the path.
‘Stay back.’ Nathan tapped the glass panel in the top half of the back door, but not hard enough. He tried again, and this time the glass smashed. He knocked away the shards at the bottom of the frame and unlocked the door.
Lexie kept close to him. She didn’t want to see Patrick, but Evelyn would need help, and Nathan didn’t know his way around the house like she did.
She looked away quickly as they went into the hall, but not fast enough to avoid seeing the rope around Patrick’s neck and his swollen face and staring eyes.
‘Evelyn has a bedroom down here.’
She rushed along the hallway and pushed open the door. ‘Evelyn, its Lexie and Nathan, we’re here to help.’
As she pulled back the curtains, light flooded into the room but the figure in the bed didn’t move. Evelyn’s eyes were closed. There was no rise and fall to show she was breathing. Lexie reached out to touch Evelyn’s hand. It was cold.
She looked up as Nathan stood in the doorway. ‘Evelyn’s dead.’
‘We need to call the police now. Probably better if we don’t touch anything else.’
As Lexie tried to avert her gaze from Patrick, she saw one of the dining chairs lying by the bannister on the mezzanine floor. Her stomach churned and acid filled her throat again as she realised why it was there.
They sat on the backdoor step, Nathan’s arm around her, pulling her close. The warmth of his body next to hers was good. She couldn’t stop shaking.
‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’
‘You freaked me out. I couldn’t understand what you were saying. Just glad you’re okay. Who’s the guy?’
Her brain was swirling with images of Patrick. It was so much worse than finding Evelyn. Not because Evelyn was older, or that she was dying from cancer, but because she could imagine Evelyn asleep. Her lips were slightly upturned as if she were about to smile. She was at peace. Patrick’s grimace and staring eyes showed no sign of serenity.
She’d only met him a few times, talked to him for maybe an hour or two. It didn’t amount to much, but their conversations hadn’t been trivial. Patrick wasn’t trivial.
‘Lexie.’
She turned her head slowly. This past hour was the worst of her life.
‘Did you say his name was Patrick?’
From the murk and haze everything came into sharp focus. She shouldn’t know who he was. She shouldn’t have met him. Nathan had called the police. They would want to know how she knew Patrick. What she knew.
She nodded.
‘Who is he?’
‘Evelyn’s son.’
‘Didn’t you tell me something about him a while ago?’
‘Just that Evelyn hadn’t seen him for a while.’ Please let that be enough for now. Please don’t ask any more questions.
Nathan seemed to understand how she felt and gave her a squeeze.
She stretched up and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks for coming,’ she said again, and then her lip quivered and she felt tears, hot and stinging.
He held her, stroked her hair and talked to her quietly. She couldn’t make out what he said through her sobs, but the comforting sounds were enough. As the tears subsided into brief hiccups, she leaned against his shoulder, looking at the flowerbeds Evelyn had loved so much.
Surely Patrick wouldn’t kill himself? There was too much at stake. He’d risked his freedom to come and see his mother, knowing she didn’t have long to live. He wouldn’t kill himself because she’d died. He’d come to say goodbye, but not like this.
The police would want to talk to her, if not today, then sometime soon. What would she say to them? She shouldn’t have known Patrick was at Evelyn’s. She’d seen the news about the hit and run and seen Patrick’s photo with his newspaper articles. They were looking for him to help with their enquiries. She had to be careful.
The first part of the day was trapped in her mind, painted in harsh, violent colours. The hours that followed were a jumble of scenes: time seemed to stretch and then contract. People with hazy faces asked her questions, their voices coming from a great distance.
‘Lexie, just explain why you went to see Evelyn.’
Lexie jumped, looked at Nathan and then at the policeman opposite. ‘Sorry, I can’t get that image of him out of my mind.’
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘We can do this tomorrow if you’d prefer.’
Lexie shook her head, best to get it out of the way now. ‘I visited Evelyn most days. She didn’t really leave the house, so people came to her.’
‘Did you know her son, Patrick?’
Lexie pressed a fingernail into her thumb. She had to be careful talking about Patrick. ‘Not really. Evelyn talked about him a lot obviously, and I’d read some of his articles in the paper.’
Nathan took hold of her hand. The man nodded and turned to Nathan.
‘Do you remember what you touched in the house?’
‘I picked up a brick and broke the window,’ said Nathan. Lexie was glad the attention was away from her. She needed to take a breath and calm her heart, which seemed to think she’d been running. ‘Then I reached through and opened the door. We walked into the hallway and saw him.’
‘I opened the door to Evelyn’s bedroom. It used to be the dining room.’ Stupid. He didn’t need to know that. ‘I pulled back the curtain and went over to the bed. I held her hand, but it was cold.’ Lexie blew her nose and took a gulp of air. ‘She was cold, so I knew… Nathan came in and said we should ring you and wait outside.’
‘I don’t think I touched anything other than the door,’ added Nathan.
Lexie looked at her watch and gasped. ‘I’ve missed the children.’
‘It’s okay, I rang Helen.’ Nathan glanced at the policeman. ‘I didn’t say what had happened.’ He spoke to Lexie. ‘Helen picked up the girls. We can get them from her house when we’ve finished here.’
The policeman asked a couple of other questions and then said they could go.
Lexie got into the passenger seat in the car. ‘Can we go home for a bit before picking up the girls?’
They sat together on the sofa and Lexie cried as he held her. This was silly, Evelyn had cancer. She only had a few months left, but Lexie hadn’t expected her to die so soon. She hadn’t known Evelyn long, yet she felt as if she’d lost her best friend.
‘I’ll go and get the children from Helen’s?’ Nathan said.
Lexie was about to say she’d come when she thought about Miriam. She wouldn’t have seen the ambulance and police cars through the trees and they hadn’t used sirens. Miriam didn’t talk to many people so she probably wouldn’t know. Lexie guessed Evelyn was Miriam’s only friend in Nettleford. Sure it was Miriam’s fault, but that didn’t change things. It would be awful for her to go to Evelyn’s house not knowing what had happened.
‘Yes, please. I’ll go and tell Miriam.’
Lexie skirted their garden and trudged up the slope. As she approached the house, Miriam stood on the doorstep looking like an inflexible force.
‘Sorry to disturb you.’ Lexie kept her voice as level as she could. Miriam looked as though she was about to tell her to leave. ‘I don’t think you’ll have heard about Evelyn.’ Unless Miriam was psychic there was no way she would know.
Miriam’s expression changed. ‘What’s happened? Is she worse? In hospital?’
Lexie shook her head, and a lump filled her throat. The last thing she wanted to do was to cry in front of this woman. She tried swallowing the lump, but a strangled gasp was the only sound she could make.
Miriam frowned but opened her door and nodded for Lexie to go in. Lexie stumbled past her and into the kitchen. She sat on a chair at the table and drank the glass of water Miriam handed to her. ‘Thanks. I didn’t mean to do that.’
‘What about Evelyn?’
Lexie explained about going to the house and finding Patrick and Evelyn.
Miriam stared at the kitchen wall as if she hadn’t heard anything, but a nerve jumped at the side of her eye. Her mouth was a straight line. ‘Was there a note or anything?’
‘Not that I saw.’
‘She wouldn’t kill herself. Not without telling me.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Lexie meant herself rather than Miriam, but Miriam could take it whatever way she wanted.
Miriam frowned as if something had just occurred to her. ‘You said Patrick was there. Patrick, her son?’
‘Yes.’ So Miriam hadn’t known about Patrick being at the house.
‘Do you think he did it?’
‘Did what?’
‘Gave Evelyn an over
dose.’
Lexie felt her mouth open as she stared at Miriam.
Miriam sat down opposite Lexie. ‘Evelyn wouldn’t do it herself, not without saying her goodbyes, even if she couldn’t do that face-to-face she would have left a note or something. Why else would Patrick hang himself? Wasn’t there something about him having killed someone in a car accident?’
Lexie could only imagine Patrick giving Evelyn an overdose if she’d asked him. Surely he wouldn’t kill himself for that. He wanted to solve the puzzle of Caroline’s death and had put himself into danger simply by staying there. Or had he killed Caroline and fooled her with his conspiracy tales?
Her mind had been so full of the awful image of Patrick hanging from the beam; she hadn’t been able to think beyond that.
For the first time Miriam really looked at her. ‘It must have been horrible finding them.’ She reached out and patted Lexie’s shoulder. It looked an awkward movement, as though it was something she hadn’t done for a long time. ‘I didn’t go round there today. Grace is ill.’
‘Is there anything I can get you from the supermarket?’
Miriam shook her head. ‘Thanks for the offer. Grace was sick during the night. I guess it’s one of those twenty-four hour things, but I didn’t want to take her to Evelyn’s in case she passed on the bug. Evelyn’s so frail. Was so frail.’
They sat silently for a few minutes, and then Lexie heaved herself out of the chair. ‘I’d better go. Nathan’s gone to collect the girls. They’ll be back soon.’
‘Thanks for letting me know. For thinking about me.’
Lexie wasn’t sure how she got through the next few hours but having to do the usual things helped. She was relieved when the girls were finally in bed and she and Nathan could slump on the sofa.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Numb, I guess. I still can’t believe it.’
Still Death (A Lexie Wyatt murder mystery Book 1) Page 9
