“Hayley would take care of that, don’t you think?” John’s mouth curled up into a lopsided grin. “Great girl, that.”
“Ready for bed?”
“It’s still early. No need for you to rush home.”
Ben held his phone under John’s nose. “That wasn’t the impression your messages gave me.”
“Don’t mind me. Chris told me off, for being a troublesome old codger.” John’s mouth slackened.
“I didn’t know he was coming.”
“He only dropped in for a few minutes. He’d forgotten something or other.” John gave Ben a sly glance. “Good-looking bloke.”
Ben said nothing.
“The ladies like him too, I’ve been told,” John said.
“Nice for him. Now if you excuse me, I’ve got things to do.”
Ben proved to be elusive again. Eve fought against the impulse to call him. If he wanted to see her, he knew where to find her.
Nevertheless, she did return to her owl-watch routine. If she was honest, the cabin intrigued her more than the bird. She had the odd feeling if she stared long and hard enough, it would reveal a hitherto missed clue. Where had the man come from, when he met Donna?
Any trampled path leading through one of the fields would have become overgrown within a short span, so it was useless to search for it. Eve wished she had any reasonable idea about horticulture. Sold or leased, the orchards and meadows must have been worked at intervals. The police were unaware of an affair and thus had no reason to question the helpers. She made a mental note to ask Hayley if farmers here hired locals or used cheap seasonal labour from Eastern Europe. In that case, it was hopeless to search for an answer.
Ben stood on the river path, casually waving at her.
She gave him a mock salute. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Busy week. I needed to get a break from my desk for a while.”
“How’s your father?”
“Meddlesome.”
“There’s a surprise.” She drew circles with her toes in the soil.
“I understand I must seem like a coward to you, but I have my reasons to worry about him,” Ben said.
“Which is absolutely your right, and also absolutely your business.”
“Eve.” He held out his hand.
She took a step back.
“Are we having a fight?” he asked.
“No. Why should we?”
“In that case, will you go out with me for dinner tonight?”
Eve opened her mouth to say no but thought better of it. “With or without Hayley?”
“I thought, the two of us. Unless you want her to come as well. But I warn you. I’m not taking Chris.”
A germ of an idea formed in her head. “I’ll pick you up,” she said.
“Fine. It’s not very gentlemanly of me, but probably safer for your reputation.”
“Meet me at seven at your gate. We don’t want to upset your father.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. A brittle smile accompanied her little act.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
This time she refrained from kissing him good-bye or touching him at all. Instead she waved and left him standing.
Hayley promised to make discreet enquiries about any farm workers who might have been toiling on Dryden land. “If my nan doesn’t know, Heather will,” she said.
“I assume you don’t want to join us for dinner.”
“Tempting, but I’ll pass. I’ll come over for breakfast, and I expect a detailed report, unless it’s too risqué.”
Eve harrumphed. “Not bloody likely, is it?”
“Use your charms, woman. Unless you’d rather try your luck with one of our regulars.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. Which reminds me. Dom’s brother, the one you thought might have had a fling with Donna.”
“The one we ruled out,” Hayley said.
“Almost ruled out. It’s still a possibility. Do you have a picture of him? Yearbooks, social media?”
“He plays rugby for our local team. Not as successfully as his brother, but they have a club newsletter. I’ll get hold of it,” Hayley said.
“Great. If you find anyone who’s seen a man around the cabin, the year before Donna’s death, perhaps they’ll recognise him.”
Ben leant against one of the pillars which held the gate. It stood wide open. Eve stopped outside and let him step into the car without cutting the engine.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“That depends on your curfew.”
“Chris is staying for a while, but I’ve told my father not to wait up.”
“No wonder the poor bloke needs your father to play cupid, if he’s always at your beck and call.”
“It’s not constantly, and he should do alright when he’s elsewhere. Nice to hear you’re concerned about him.” His voice said otherwise.
Eve allowed herself a smug moment. “I am a kind person. That’s why I’m taking you out tonight.”
She parked the car a short walk away from “Little Italy”. “I’ve asked a few people for recommendations,” she said, as she took his arm. She hoped it looked casual to him, and not as if she wanted to check his physical reactions when he saw their destination. Although she was ninety percent sure Ben was not Donna’s lunch date, it would be nice to be certain.
“Do you know this place?” she asked and motioned towards the restaurant.
“No, but you can’t go wrong with Italian food.” They peeked inside. The place was packed.
“Or we could see what else there is.” Eve pulled Ben away.
His physical proximity raised her heartbeat. He smelt good, too, like a faint mix of suede and lemon, she thought.
“The Flower Pot” was closed, like most cafés in the evening. Eve faked disappointment. “I’ve heard great things about this place. Have you been here before?”
He shook his head. “You’ve already seen my favourite restaurant. Both, if you count the ‘Green Dragon.’”
They headed back to “Little Italy”. The waiter found them a secluded place in one of the booths Eve had originally earmarked as ideal for lovers.
They kept the conversation neutral during salad and pasta. Ben regaled Eve with wisdom about owls, and local customs. She heard with disbelief that Hayley once dated a Morris dancer, although the relationship died after his first public display.
“I’ve never seen Morris dancers in action,” Eve said. “I’ve read about them, but that’s all.”
“That’s easily fixed. I can take you to one of the events. They’re usually on in May and June. How could you miss that?”
He sounded suspiciously enthusiastic. “Don’t tell me you tie bells around your legs and jump up and down with brooms and swords,” she said.
“More likely sticks and hankies, and you’d better respect our ancient ways.” He signalled the waiter. “Coffee?”
“Cappuccino.”
“Two cappuccinos, please.” He laughed. “My maternal grandfather was a dancer, and they used to drop into the ‘Green Dragon’ after practice. Legend has it, one hour’s dancing equalled five hour’s drinking.”
“It must have been a popular sport, then.”
“Before the advent of television, and computers. What about your hometown?”
“We’ve moved around quite a bit, so I’m not sure what really counts as my hometown, and I wasn’t really into folklore. I could ask my dad and Crystal.” The name came over her lips with a surprising easy. She’d make it up to the hitherto much maligned woman, she thought. It couldn’t have been easy to be saddled with a judgmental person like Eve when you tied the knot with a biddable man.
Ben peeked at his phone, probably making sure he hadn’t missed a summons from his father. Eve’s hackles rose. She had enough of the shilly-shallying.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re wasting your life, and what for? I get it if you fe
el unready for a new relationship, although five years is taking it a bit far.”
He opened his mouth to interrupt her.
She put a finger over his lips. “I’m still talking. Like I said, I understand that. But this whole running after your father and putting up with his every whim? What’s so difficult about telling him you’re not romantically interested in Hayley, and to stay out of your private affairs? You know, it’s no wonder people look at you in a funny way when you don’t seem to give a damn about anyone. Not even your wife, and I don’t care what she did to you, doesn’t she deserve better?”
A vein throbbed on his temple. “Think what you want.”
“Thanks, I will.” She signalled the waiter for the bill.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then enlighten me,” she said.
“Fine. You want everything to be black or white. Let me tell you this. Once in a while, when he’s pushed too far, my father flies into a rage. A proper, blood pressure to the ceiling kind of anger, which causes another massive stroke. He’s in a wheelchair because I was suspected of murder. The doctors say the next one, which could be triggered by another outburst, would most likely be fatal. I’m not killing my father to please you or anyone else. And I don’t give a shit about what you or the rest of the world think of me.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Fair enough.” Her anger deflated. “You’ve made your point. But you have to understand how demeaning it is for me to have you sneak off behind your father’s back to meet with me. Like you’re the lord of the manor and you’re slumming it with the milkmaid. Although in that case John would probably cheer you on.”
“The milkmaid?”
“Yes. Or the kitchen help.” She shoved a handful of banknotes inside the leather folder with the bill.
“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”
She shrugged.
“I understand if you don’t want to see me again.” Ben’s voice betrayed no emotion, which made it worse.
“I didn’t say that.” Eve blinked away a sudden dampness in her eyes. “I just want you to think about what you’re actually doing.”
They drove back in silence.
Eve stopped the car on the grass verge outside the gate.
Ben lingered. “I shouldn’t keep you,” he said.
“No.”
“Okay.” The emotional distance between them widened with every breath. Eve’s chest constricted.
He played with his seat-belt. “We should talk another day.”
“If there is anything to say. Without having your father’s blood on our hands.”
He left without another word.
She watched him move away. His shoulders hunched forwards.
Eve slammed the steering wheel with both hands until the pain became unbearable.
Chapter 20
“Good job. That stupid bugger needs tough love.” Hayley enveloped Eve in a rib-crushing hug. She’d refrained from commenting on Eve’s red-rimmed eyes and the mad hair.
“I don’t know. It feels as if I’ve cut off my finger to cure a hangnail.” Eve slumped onto a kitchen chair.
“You need food, and coffee, and Auntie Hayley’s signature good cheer.” Hayley waved a muffin under Eve’s nose. “If you eat this like a good girl, I might tell you something you’ll like.”
Eve broke the pastry into pieces and pushed them around on her plate.
“Do you go all tragic after every little lovers’ tiff?” Hayley clucked her tongue. “You must have been a joy to be around in college.”
“I stuck with one boyfriend during that period, and this wasn’t a lovers’ tiff. Ben pretty much told me to get lost, because the thought of him and me together would outrage John so much he’d have another stroke and die.”
“That’s emotional blackmail.”
“Tell him that.”
Eve tried a morsel. And another one. Hayley was right, food did help. “That’s also why he isn’t remotely interested in finding out the truth,” she said. “All Ben Dryden cares about is his precious father.”
“I can understand protecting your family,” Hayley said. “I’d protect my nan, but I wouldn’t ruin my life for her. She wouldn’t thank me for that.”
“That’s because you’re not stuck in a toxic, unhealthy relationship like the Drydens. No wonder Donna wanted out so badly.”
Hayley winced. “It’s over, then?”
“There wasn’t anything, but hypothetically speaking, if there had been, it would be finished, snuffed, kaput.” Eve ran a finger across her throat for good measure.
“Does that also go for our investigation?” Hayley asked.
“No. It’s simply become impersonal.”
Hayley gave her an amused look. “If you say so.”
“You said you were going to cheer me up.”
“And I shall.”
Like the majority of workers in agriculture and horticulture, most helpers came for the season and left as soon as they were no longer needed. But one man, a Pole, had stayed, and married a local girl. He earned a living doing gardening and odd jobs, and he remembered the Drydens, and the cabin.
Hayley paused and helped herself to another muffin. Eve snatched it out of her hand. “Go on.”
“He saw a man a couple of times, coming up from the public footpath by the stream.”
Eve leant forward, spellbound.
“It was during the summer and late autumn before she died.” Hayley took back the muffin and nibbled on it. She usually was in a hurry, but for this revelation she seemed to have infinite time.
Eve counted to ten under her breath. “What else did he say?”
“Not a lot. He thinks the man was youngish. Late twenties, early thirties, with brown hair.”
“Harry?”
“I showed him the picture in the club newsletter, but he wasn’t sure. He said the hairstyle’s wrong, and he doesn’t remember any tattoos on the man’s arms.” Hayley pushed the rugby club leaflet over to Eve. A group of men in their thirties and forties in two rows, dressed in shorts and sleeveless tops. The front row squatted, and they all had their naked arms crossed across their chest.
Eve read the names in the caption, but she’d recognised Harry from his likeness to his much younger sibling. His left arm was covered in what Eve took to be a colourful depiction of George and the Dragon which would be hard to overlook. “How old is the tattoo?”
“Too old for your purpose. And he’s worn his hair shoulder-length even longer.”
“But how much would your witness truly remember?”
“Enough to say where the man came from, and that it wasn’t Harry.”
“Which leads us nowhere. That’s not cheering me up.”
Eve regretted coming to the ‘Green Dragon’ when she saw Bella and Sue waving at her. There went her hope of a good meal and a chance to mope in silence outside her own four walls. She forced herself to beam.
Hayley winked at her. “Your usual?”
Was Eve becoming that predictable? She’d see to that. “What’s today’s special?”
“Curry,” Bella said before Hayley could answer. “Hotter than that admirer of yours and just as juicy.”
Eve shook herself. Curry was an acquired taste, one she didn’t intend to master. As were Bella’s jokes.
Hayley took pity on her. “Mac and cheese?”
The ultimate comfort food. Heather had put her stamp on the menu. Eve nodded in agreement.
Bella expected her to squeeze in next to them despite an empty table. Eve gave in. One of the joys of small-town life meant somebody would always take an interest in your doings. Although today Eve counted it as a major drawback.
A grizzled man came closer. His slightly unsteady walk and beer breath made Eve shrink back.
He steadied himself on their table. If Eve remembered correctly, his name was Bob. He pushed his face close to hers. “You,” he said and pointed an accusing finger at her. “You shouldn�
�t hang out with that bastard.”
“Bob. How dare you?” Sue glowered at him.
“You too, Sue Littlewood. I’m warning you all. Nothing good ever came from Ben sodding Dryden. He should be rotting in prison.” His eyes were glassy, but he kept his steady at Eve. “A friendly word here. Before you regret it.”
“That’s enough.” Hayley yanked him away by his grimy collar. “Go home, sleep it off, and then you can apologise to the ladies. And to Ben Dryden.”
Bob spat on the floor. One signal from Hayley, and Dom left the bar, hauled the drunk man across the floor and pushed him outside.
Hayley addressed her stunned customers. “Is there anyone else who wants to get something off his chest?”
“Why are you defending the bastard?” Another regular stood up to confront her.
“Because this is a public bar, and every patron is welcome as long as he or she behaves himself.”
“The tosser killed his wife.” The man planted his feet wide to steady himself.
Hayley took a step closer. He sucked in his breath.
“If you’ve got proof, I’m sure the police will welcome it,” she said. “Otherwise, shut up or drink somewhere else.” He slunk back to his spot at the bar, grumbling under his breath.
Bella’s eyes gleamed. “Ben Dryden,” she said to no one in particular.
Eve kept her mouth shut.
“Now he’s a looker, too, but my money’s on that lovely Chris to give you a good work-out,” Bella said.
“Stop it.” Sue gave her friend a playful slap. “You’re old enough to be their mother.”
“But not too old to appreciate fine optics.” Bella laughed. “Relax, you two. I’m only trying to tell Eve to ignore these old codgers. They’re jealous.”
“That may be.” Sue moved her drink aside to make room for Eve’s food. “But as they say, there is no smoke without fire.”
“Only we don’t know which direction it’s drifting from.”
“Did anyone watch ‘Eastenders’ last night?” Eve said, in a desperate attempt to stop them before she screamed. The long-running soap was one of her staples when it came to changing topics. That, the weather and the royal family. They had never failed her yet.
Let Sleeping Murder Lie: A cozy mystery Page 16
