by Alana Ling
Recognition glistened across his face and his lips pursed yet again.
‘Uhm, I’m sorry about that. It was—uh—a bad morning,’ he said.
‘I’ll say.’
‘I had my head chef swear at me because he didn’t like the likes of me, and two members of staff called in to let me know they couldn’t be bothered with work that day. So, I was, you know, struggling to not let it out on anyone, and then you came at the peak of it all, with cupcakes nonetheless and, I don’t know, it felt like you were making fun of me. And then after that incident, I just thought you didn’t like me so I might as well have some banter. I’m sorry. I’m not very well-versed in being liked,’ he admitted and all of a sudden my view of him as this tough, macho man shattered and I could see the true man underneath. Which only proved you didn’t need alcohol to bring the best out of someone. Just a good cuppa.
His hard-shelled behaviour made too much sense now for me to ignore. I’d assumed that when Kit took over after Paul’s retirement that it was a simple, professional handover. I’d never imagined he could be having such a tough break in the pub, and a big reason for that was that Jamie never mentioned anything.
‘I’m sorry to hear things have been rough,’ I said. ‘What do you mean the chef doesn’t like people the likes of you?’
He shrugged. ‘Uhm, I’m not used to living in a town where everything becomes common knowledge in a matter of minutes. London is a different beast—’
‘I know, so hectic, hard to catch a break for a breath, let alone for a touch of gossip.’
He sat back on the sofa. ‘You’ve lived in London?’
‘Yes, I’ve lived everywhere you can probably think of. All the capitals? I’ve done them all,’ I said with a big eye-roll.
‘You’re a traveller then?’
‘Nah. I had a very fidgety husband. But you’re avoiding the subject.’
He seemed to hate the diversion back to him.
‘Well, the chef found out I am a bisexual man who just got out of a long relationship…with a man…and the only thing he hasn’t done is spit glitter at me, ’cause everything else, he’s pretty much done and said.’
‘That is horrid. Why do you put up with it? And why wouldn’t Jamie say anything.’
‘I don’t. I actually sacked him today. He came in dressed in pink out of spite. And I have a feeling Jamie is a bit thicker-skinned than me.’
I spat air out. ‘Unbelievable. But well done for standing up for yourself. No one should have to take that kind of bullying.’
‘Thank you.’ He looked at his watch and made to get up. ‘I think it’s getting late.’
‘Oh, please, do stay. Don’t go yet. Just when I was warming up to the idea of you.’
He smirked. ‘I would love to, but I’m not sure what would happen in such lovely company.’
‘Well, we ought to find out,’ I said and retrieved two wine glasses.
Twenty-One
I rose early the next morning, on my kitchen sofa, with Alfie sleeping on my lap and a glass of wine in my hand. A blanket was covering both me and the dog, and also the glass of wine.
It took me two cups of coffee to get back to speed and relive the affairs from last night. I felt my cheeks blush at the thought of Kit and I was glad that he had been there when I was attacked, and I’d got to know this complicated man better.
I must have dozed off during our long nightcap and he must have been the one to find a blanket and cover me with it.
Upstairs.
Oh, he must have travelled upstairs in search of the blanket. How mortifying. It was embarrassing to think he’d been witness to my unruly bedroom and my wild wardrobe.
My doorbell rang and Alfie was attracted to it like a moth to a flame, with his barky nature.
‘Where was that last night, you stupid dog?’
When I opened the door, Daniel greeted me with a wide smile and a cheery good morning and entered my house, bringing with him a fresh taste of chocolate and peanut brownie in my hungry mouth.
‘What brings you here, Detective?’ I was still in the playful mood and couldn’t help messing with him. ‘Are you here to arrest me?’
His smile disappeared as soon as my words were uttered and my brain went into a frenzy of all the things I could have done wrong in the last twelve hours since I saw him.
‘Kit Rider, the manager of the Oak, dropped by the station today. He told me someone tried to assault you outside your house last night. Is that true?’
Relief washed over me. ‘It is, but I’m absolutely fine. I assure you.’
He humphed. ‘Do you have any idea who it might have been that tried to attack you?’
I shook my head.
‘Did you get a look at them? What did they look like? Their height? Face?’
I shook my head again. ‘They were wearing a mask and plain black clothes. I think it was a man, though.’
‘Right. Do you think they have anything to do with Poppy’s murder?’
The thought had crossed my mind, but I couldn’t be sure if they did. ‘It could be. I mean, you know our crime rate, I don’t know if it could be a random attack or an isolated incident. But I guess it could be related to Poppy’s murder.’
Alfie was still begging Daniel for some petting, but his brusque appearance, a rather fascinating shift from the man I answered the door to, was stopping him from giving my dog the pleasure.
‘I’ve told you this was dangerous, and what more proof do I need than what happened yesterday? I mean, thankfully, Kit was still in the pub last night and came to your rescue—’
‘Oh, please, Daniel, you know me. I don’t need anyone to rescue me.’ I was too damn proud to admit that Kit had been of some sort of aid at the happenings of last night, and a lot more fun after it. My reminiscence was cut short though when he grabbed my right wrist and then my left one and put cuffs around them.
‘What—?’
‘Since you refuse to follow orders, I’m taking you into custody. For your own protection,’ he said and dragged me outside despite my disapproval.
He walked me all around Culpepper Mews, parading me through morning shoppers and patrons like a prized winner. His grin was too big for his face and I wanted to rub it off and feed it to him.
‘I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,’ I yelled at him.
‘It’s for your own good.’
I blew raspberries. ‘Sure it is. You just don’t want me to finish your job.’
Daniel chuckled and opened the police car’s door to stuff me inside.
‘I hate you, Daniel. You should know that.’
He laughed. ‘And I love you too, sweetheart.’ He slammed the door shut. In my face.
I was locked into a cell all by my lonesome, with a cup of water and some crisps, which Daniel had ordered his staff to get me in a hope to appease me. But I wasn’t bought with a packet of crisps.
I kept calling his name, and waiting for him to come to me, until he got sick of me and left the station altogether, excusing himself on police business.
‘Where is she? Where is my daughter?’ I heard her screech before I saw her. Her chocolate marble cake dried out my mouth in an instant. She was led to me by the police officer that had brought me the crisps, and he looked terrified of Effie.
I couldn’t blame him. Her hair colour today was ruby red, which paired with her tanned skin, made her look like the devil incarnate, considering she also carried a spice of chilli in her usually calming flavour. She was wearing a lipstick to match the shade, and a long flowing dress that was suited to a twenty-year-old rather than a sixty-year-old.
‘Hi, Mum,’ I said, staring at the young officer who was about to lose control of his bladder while my mouth burned from looking at her momentarily. ‘Come to my rescue?’ I asked.
Effie laughed and the officer went into a catatonic shock. His eyes didn’t leave her for an instant. He tasted of milk, which was ironic as the physical person couldn’t do anything to calm
the woman that carried the spice, but looking at him certainly made the heat subside.
‘Rescue, my bottom. Where is that lovely gentleman Daniel so I can thank him for his service?’ She looked around, trying to make a point.
‘Mum!’
‘Don’t Mum me, missy. In fact, where is Sammy? Why isn’t she locked up in here too? You two girls should be sharing your stupidity in prison. My daughter, MY DAUGHTER, investigating a bloody murder. What makes you think you can do a man’s job?’
My eyes rolled so far back it gave me a migraine. ‘Oh, do stop, Mum. That’s really offensive. To women officers and to me in particular. You do realise I helped him catch one of the culprits, right?’
Effie straightened and pursed her lips.
‘That is true, of course. But look what happened to you. You got attacked. In the middle of the night—’
‘Most attacks happen in the middle of the night. There’s nothing special about that.’
‘Stop mocking me, you silly child. Do you not stop ever? Even when you’re behind bars?’ Her eyes opened wide. ‘See? I told you you’d end up in prison. The cup never lies.’
‘I’m not in prison forever. Just until Daniel comes to his senses and realises he can’t keep me in here,’ I suggested, with a flirty glance at the young officer who completely ignored my obvious advance, ignoring Effie’s fortune-telling remark. I didn’t even want to think about the repercussions my current situation would have on her psychic ego.
‘Well, I do hope he takes his time doing so. I’d rather you sleep in this hole than in one six feet under.’
I touched my head and brushed my hair back.
‘Oh, Mum. You’re overreacting, is all. I’m perfectly fine. My observation and interview skills helped me catch a killer. I would take this as a win over any harmless attacks on me.’ I realised too late that I was making light of last night’s incidents, which had, at the time, terrified me.
‘But where is that boy so I can thank him? My daughter is going bananas and he’s the only sane person in her life to actually do the sensible thing.’ She looked around her again.
‘Detective Anderson is interviewing some suspects—uhm—ma’am. He should be back after lunch,’ the young officer said.
Mum deflated slightly, but then gave him a big smile. ‘That’s okay. Do pass him my regards, however. And my gratitude.’ She snapped her head back to my direction, and with that her face went into a deep frown and her lips twitched. ‘When you, insolent child, are out of prison, you better come find me.’
‘So you can, what? Punish me?’ I asked, trying to inject as much sarcasm into my tone as possible.
‘Exactly.’ She huffed and left me on my own, confined, devices. In a way, I wish she hadn’t. Because who appeared next was even worse.
Preston walked in with an air of confidence that he shouldn’t possess. Not that I could see him, but from the way the officers turned around to look at his grand entrance, and the way he walked up to me when he did come into view, said it all.
He wore the khaki suit I got him from Sydney, during one of those times when I was bored like hell of being at home during his short business travels and I’d ventured out with his credit card. His shoes were from Milan and his face from hell.
He still tasted of bad wine. Where was that milky officer to take the vinegar of my ex-husband out of my mouth?
The grin on it was too frustrating to ignore.
‘Hi, baby,’ he said.
‘I’m not your baby.’
He hissed. ‘You’re always welcome to come back.’
‘Not if hell froze over. Thrice. What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see my wife, of course.’
‘Ex.’
‘Of course.’ He nodded with a lack of sincerity.
‘You do realise those papers you signed, like six months ago, were the real deal, right?’ I didn’t even know why I was humouring him as if I didn’t know how irritating he was.
He chuckled. ‘Good one.’
‘What do you want?’ I asked again, this time banging my hand on the cold bars. Which hurt. And was bound to leave a bruise.
‘I need you to sign these papers,’ he said, retrieving some folded papers from the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket.
I grabbed them from him and skimmed through the contract.
‘Not a flipping chance,’ I told him.
His gentle, light face turned into a scowl. ‘Come on, Jo. You would never have got that house if it weren’t for me. It belongs to me.’
I stared at him in disbelief.
‘I got that house with my money, my hard work and I’m not giving you a single piece of it,’ I said.
He wrapped his hand around one of the bars and came closer to me.
‘You mean my money. You would never have afforded it if it weren’t for me.’
‘Look, Preston, that money was paid to me for my services as your PA and as your crisis manager. I earned that money with my sweat and blood.’
‘You mean the secretarial work you were doing for me?’ He chuckled.
‘Oh, Preston, you feign to be a gentleman, yet you still haven’t learnt to respect your ex-wife to whom you owe where you are today,’ Daniel said and appeared behind his brother.
‘Stay out of this,’ he said maintaining his gaze on me. ‘Sign them,’ he ordered me.
I wished I wasn’t surrounded by bars and that I had walls, and a door that I could slam in his face, but seeing as that wasn’t on the menu, I stood my ground as close to him as I could get.
‘Over my dead body.’
He slammed his hand on the bars, like I’d done moments ago, and spat out in a frenzy, ‘But it’s in London. You don’t even live there. You don’t even visit.’
I grinned. ‘Yes, exactly. And last thing I remember is it’s also in the very centre of it, overlooking the Thames and Big Ben.’ His face twitched at my description. ‘Must be worth, what? Five, six million on the market and even more long-term profit from renting it out. Must be killing you, isn’t it? What happened? Has your company fallen apart? Is your beautiful new secretary unable to manage your finances, or is she simply draining you of them? Tell me, how does she like moving every two months, chasing the next big thing to invest on? Can she even do half the things I did for you? Oh, don’t tell me without my managing your failures your reputation has gone down the drain? That would be such a terrible affair.’ I giggled.
He slammed his hand once more, but Daniel wasn’t having it.
‘Right, that’s it, buddy. That’s enough. You need to get out of here before I cuff you.’ He pulled him away from the cell.
Preston swore at him and wouldn’t budge.
‘Move it, princess. Your time’s up.’
Preston span around and punched Daniel right in the nose. A few officers made to reach for their superior, but he stopped them while he recomposed himself.
‘You need to get out of here, before I arrest you for resisting and assaulting an officer,’ he said through his gritted teeth.
Preston didn’t budge.
‘Now, idiot,’ Daniel yelled at his little brother and Preston disappeared. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked me.
‘Are you?’
He nodded. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.’
‘I don’t doubt that, but he packs quite the punch.’ I tried to reach out to him.
‘How do you know that? Did he ever hit you and you didn’t tell me?’ he said, coming closer.
I shook my head. His concern flattered me beyond words. But that was no surprise. He was after all an older, more mature, far more advanced version of his little brother. And one I had relied on one too many times over the years, despite the distance that had separated us until I moved back.
‘No, brainiac, you’ve got a swelling the size of your head,’ I told him and he looked at his reflection in one of the computers.
An officer arrived on point and passed him some ice to put on his br
uise.
‘How did it go, Detective?’
Daniel shook his head. ‘I got her on her way to hospital, but she said she didn’t see anything. And the catering company can’t get hold of the guy as he’s been sent to an event in Manchester.’
‘Bummer. Can’t we get the boys in Manchester to get to him?’ the officer asked.
‘What are you talking about?’ My curiosity got the better of me and I couldn’t hold on any longer.
The officer turned to me and stared. So did Daniel.
‘It’s none of your business, Jo,’ he told me, and then turned back to his officer.
‘Are you talking about Poppy’s case? You must be. Why else would you not tell me anything? And also you mentioned a catering company. Poppy used a caterer.’
I was only met by more stares.
‘Well, I’m in a cell. What investigating can I possibly do from in here?’ I reasoned with him.
Daniel looked from me to his officer then back to me, seemingly at battle with himself. On one hand he wanted to keep me safe and not get me involved in the case any more than I already was, and on the other hand I had helped him catch one killer, so he probably thought I might know more than he did. Or, well, at least that’s what I hoped he was thinking.
‘Fine. I went to speak to Gemima about the catering company that Poppy used. People said they saw a waiter enter Poppy’s room with a glass of bubbly, and considering the only thing found in Poppy’s stomach was Prosecco, it’s safe to assume that glass contained the poison.’
‘Is Gemima all right? Why is she in hospital?’
‘Gemima is fine. She works there. In the medical labs. She said she saw Poppy with a glass of sparkling wine throughout the morning. She assumed Poppy had a deal with the waiter to sneak into her room every now and again with a top up.’
My eyes shot wide open and raced back to the events of the wedding rehearsal and everything that had happened after it.
‘I know who did it,’ I exclaimed. ‘I know who poisoned Poppy.’
Daniel’s furrow deepened and his mouth twitched. ‘How?’
‘I’ll explain on our way to the Guildfords. In the meantime, you need to get everyone together at their house. The whole wedding party. Oh, and also Sam. I don’t want her to miss this.’
