“Don’t worry about Ben. It must have scared him too, turning up at Edna’s like that and finding you there. Maybe now he’s got her in for questioning and you’ve riled her up, she’ll confess all. He’ll thank you then.”
Keeley frowned. “You still think it might be her?” There could be no denying after that attack that Edna was vicious enough, and probably more than physically capable of it if she had caught Gerald off guard, but Keeley remembered the look of anguish on Edna’s face when she had talked about her employer’s demise. She had adored Gerald, that much was evident.
But love could easily turn to hate. Wasn’t that what most crimes of passion were about? She could well imagine Edna turning on Gerald in a fit of rejected rage. But there was the matter of the illegitimate child as well. Although it had been years ago, Keeley couldn’t help feeling it might be significant. She told Megan about it, and her friend shook her head in disbelief.
“Randy old goat, who would have thought it? Maybe it was the long-lost daughter who killed him, or the mother. Perhaps she felt spurned all these years.”
“It’s a bit far-fetched, after all this time.”
Megan shrugged.
“No more so than the idea that Edna did it because Gerald sacked her, and after the way she attacked you I don’t think that’s far-fetched at all. Honestly, Keeley, I’m still not convinced it isn’t Raquel, and she isn’t just playing on your guilt to get her out of it.”
Keeley sighed. “Who knows,” she said, feeling weariness settle over her. “I hope you’re right about Edna. Maybe she will confess and this is an end to it all.” She took a large drink of her tea, then looked up sharply as she heard a door bang at the back of the house. Megan got up to check.
“It was just the wind,” she said.
“Where are Suzy and Christian?”
“Christian’s gone to Bakewell to see his mother, and Suzy’s up in the attic. Again. I must admit I’m quite excited to see what she will unveil at the café for the art festival. It should bring in quite a few extra customers, you know. Have you thought about what dishes you’re going to serve?”
Keeley gave her friend a grateful smile, glad of the change of the subject. Talking about food always made her feel more grounded.
“I’m thinking of doing some kind of tart, maybe goat’s cheese from the Glovers’ farm, with walnut and lemon. And definitely meringues with local berries for dessert.”
“Sounds amazing,” said Megan with a dreamy expression. A knock came at the door, startling them both.
It was Ben, with a closed expression that sparked an ominous feeling low in Keeley’s belly.
“Would you like a lift home? We need to talk,” he said in clipped tones, avoiding her eyes. Keeley nodded, gave Megan a hug and thanked her for the tea, and got into the car with Ben. He roared off without saying a word, his hands tight on the steering wheel. He pulled off outside the café, turned off the engine and shifted in his seat to face Keeley, still with the same inscrutable expression. He didn’t speak, just continued to regard her with that closed, even expression.
“Are you waiting for me to confess? I feel like I’m in the interrogation room,” she quipped, only half joking. Ben didn’t look amused.
“What were you doing round Edna’s?”
“I was passing, and wanted to see how she was after Gerald’s death,” she said, echoing what she had told Kate. Ben tutted.
“Don’t give me that, Keeley. You were fishing for information, trying to get Raquel off the hook. It was only last night you were trying to get me to go round and question Edna again.”
“You must have thought there was something in what I said,” Keeley pointed out, “or why else were you going round there today, if not to talk to her about Gerald?”
Ben gave a sharp nod, conceding her point.
“You’re right. I thought about what you said and decided it was worth talking to her again. Though I would have done that at some point anyway. And it’s just as well I did, isn’t it, or that scratch in your face could have been a lot worse.”
Keeley blushed, then felt her cheeks flame even more as Ben went on, his closed expression being replaced by such raw hurt that she felt tears spring to her eyes.
“Do you have any idea,” he said through gritted teeth, though she could tell he was more upset now than angry, “how it felt to turn up there and find you putting yourself in danger, again?”
Keeley felt stung. “That’s unfair. Last time wasn’t my fault; I was already in danger before I even arrived in Belfrey. I was involved in Terry’s murder whether I wanted to be or not.”
“And yet that wasn’t enough to convince you to keep out of things this time? For God’s sake, Keeley, this isn’t a game. Someone’s been killed!” He was all but shouting at her now, and when Keeley shrank away from him, reaching for the door handle, he looked immediately contrite. His shoulders slumped, the anger seeming to drain out of him.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart; I am. But I’ve got enough to deal with on this case without having to worry about you as well.”
Keeley nodded, feeling guilty.
“Is it proving very difficult then, this case?” she asked, then hoped she didn’t sound too interested lest he question her motives. If she was honest, after what had happened with Edna she could happily never hear about Gerald Buxby again. Even so, she still believed in Raquel’s innocence.
But she cared about Ben too; more than cared, and looking at the dark shadows under his eyes and two-day stubble on his chin, indicating he hadn’t even had time to shave, she reflected that she had been so wrapped up in her own feelings about and investigations into Gerald’s murder that she had given only the barest of thoughts to how it must be affecting Ben. She laid an apologetic hand on his leg as he answered her question.
“There’s just no real leads, other than Tom claiming to see Raquel. To my mind that’s not enough to charge her, not without some forensic evidence. We still haven’t established—or found—the murder weapon. But I’m getting pressure from the new chief at Ripley to wrap this up. Gerald was the mayor, Keeley; it reflects badly on Amber Valley law enforcement if we can’t even get justice for our own.”
Keeley hadn’t even thought about that. Of course—Gerald being a prominent public figure meant ten times the pressure for Ben. Reading between the lines of his words, Raquel could be seen to make a convenient scapegoat.
“So they want you to charge her?”
“That was the unspoken implication. But no one wants the Crown Prosecution Service to throw it out of court before it even gets there, so the onus is on me to gather the evidence. And as much as I hate to admit it I am coming around to your way of thinking, Keeley; I don’t think Raquel did it.”
“You don’t?” Keeley felt both surprise and pleasure at his statement.
“No, I don’t. But then the problem is, who else could it possibly be?”
Keeley touched the small bandage on her cheek, wincing.
“Didn’t Edna reveal anything?”
Ben shook his head. “Hoping for a confession?” he said wryly. “Afraid not; turns out she has an alibi, apparently she was at Bridge Club.” He grinned at Keeley’s blank expression. “It’s a card game,” he explained.
“Right.”
“So I’m afraid Raquel is still the only suspect I have. I understand that you want to help her, Keeley, I really do, but you could have got seriously hurt today.”
“I’m sorry too,” Keeley said, then she remembered what Edna had told her. “I did find out something, though; Gerald has a secret daughter.” She gave him the details as she knew them from Raquel and Edna. Ben leaned forward, interested, but by the time she had finished that closed expression was back on his face.
“You didn’t tell Kate any of this when you gave your statement?”
“I was still shocked from Edna flying at me like that. And,” she added honestly, “I suppose I wanted to tell you myself.”
“So you just wit
hheld information,” Ben said in a flat voice. He had drawn away from her now, his body again angled away from her. Keeley shook her head in exasperation.
“Seriously? You’re going in a mood over that?”
Ben raised an eyebrow at her.
“Did you not think,” he said slowly, as if talking to a child, “that considering you were being questioned as to why this woman attacked you, that it would be pertinent to mention something that was obviously a significant part of your conversation with her?”
Keeley stared, feeling annoyance rising in her that she couldn’t swallow down.
“Please don’t talk to me like that,” she said, her voice sounding clipped and cold even to her own ears. “I wasn’t trying to ‘withhold information,’ Ben, I just thought you would prefer it if I told you myself. And,” she couldn’t resist adding, “if I hadn’t been to see Edna, you wouldn’t have this information at all, because neither she nor Raquel disclosed it.”
Ben shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe his ears. “You think that makes it all right then, that you took it on your own back to go around questioning suspects?”
“Edna wasn’t a suspect,” Keeley pointed out, “and Raquel approached me. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong to warrant the way you’re being.”
“You shouldn’t have gone round there.” Ben’s face was set in stubborn lines that she knew all too well. She took a deep breath, trying to breathe in calm and breathe out her irritation, a technique she often taught at the beginning of class.
“You can’t tell me where to go, Ben. But,” she conceded, “perhaps I should have mentioned the child when I was being questioned. I suppose I just wanted to tell you myself. It’s quite sensitive information.”
“Are you sure you were going to tell me at all? That you didn’t keep the information back for yourself, so you could go off investigating with me none the wiser?”
Keeley felt her face flush with anger and hurt. Did he really think that of her, that she would keep secrets from him? But then she had, in a way, by being less than open about her decision to help Raquel. Although, she thought mutinously, he had hardly given her a chance, cutting her off every time she had tried to talk to him.
“No, Ben. And I’m upset you would think that,” she said. Her voice sounded as if it was coming from far away, and there was an edge to it that she barely recognized as her own.
“Well, I’m upset too,” Ben said curtly, staring forward out of the windshield. Keeley felt a wave of sadness wash over her, the day’s events coming together in her mind in stark clarity. Her cheek throbbed, and she suddenly felt fragile and in need of comfort.
Something she clearly wasn’t going to get from Ben. There was a stubborn set to his jaw. Sighing, she undid her seatbelt and opened the car door. Ben made no move to embrace and she hesitated halfway out of the door, looking back over her shoulder at him.
“Shall I ring you later?” She winced at the note of neediness in her voice.
“If you like.” Ben continued to stare through the windshield. Keeley got out of the car and shut the door behind her in a less than gentle manner, walking off into the café without looking back, and feeling hot tears sting her eyes as she heard his car pull off.
She and Ben had never argued—at least, not since they had become a couple—and this was the second time they had in two days.
Keeley went upstairs, glad to find the apartment empty. At least her mother was out enjoying herself. Again.
Still, Darla’s strange behavior over the last few days was the least important thing on her mind right now. She sank down onto the sofa, feeling a tidal wave of emotions rush over her, from anger at Ben, fear that their recent butting heads was an indication of something more serious, and sheer shock at the attack from Edna and the sequence of events Gerald’s murder had set in place.
Part of her wondered if Ben was right, and she should just keep out of it. But another, larger part of her wanted to get to the bottom of it all, to find out the answers and the truth. Justice was important to her, she knew. Or maybe she was just nosey. She pulled a cushion over her face, shutting her eyes and instantly seeing Ben’s face and that hostile expression. The way he had just withdrawn from her, leaving her shut out and unwanted, scared her. As much because of her own reaction as anything else. She obviously hadn’t dealt with the rejection and abandonment issues left by her father’s death and Brett’s betrayal as thoroughly as she had thought, and having Darla here had stirred it all up again too. Perhaps she was using her interest in the case as a foil for her own uncomfortable feelings.
But, an obstinate voice sneaked into her musings, what if Duane and Megan were right? That she did have a knack for it? People did confide in her, they always had, and Raquel at least seemed certain that Keeley could help. Not everyone thought she was as incompetent as Ben currently seemed to. And at least she wasn’t under the pressure Ben was to find a convenient scapegoat. His superior’s instructions to get the case wrapped up were unjust.
Shaking her head at her own chaotic thought processes, Keeley jumped to her feet. She would have a shower, then spend some time on her mat unwinding and relaxing. Today had left her in more than a little shock, and she knew the importance of being kind to herself when she felt like this. She would phone Ben later, she decided, and apologize while putting her point of view across. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure what that was.
She emerged from the shower feeling more at ease, and heard her phone ringing. Seeing Ben’s name flash on the screen, she snatched it up, feeling her heart beat faster.
“Hello, babe?” She was about to launch into a rushed apology when Ben’s voice stopped her cold.
“I want to go over your statement again. I need to know exactly what was said between you and Edna. There was definitely only the two of you there?” There was a tone to his voice that set butterflies of panic beating frantically in the pit of Keeley’s stomach.
“Yes, unless you count the cat. What is it, Ben, what’s happened?”
Somehow she knew what he was going to say before he even uttered the words.
“She’s dead, Keeley. Edna’s been murdered.”
Chapter Nine
Keeley sat down, her hand groping behind her for the edge of the bed. The ground felt shaky under her feet. Edna, dead? It had just been a few hours ago that the old woman had been clawing at her face. Ben carried on speaking, his voice sounding as if it was coming from very far away, only just audible through the rushing in her ears. For a moment she heard Megan’s voice—There’s an ill wind in Belfrey at the moment—and she inhaled sharply. She reached for the crystal pendant around her neck that Megan had given her, only to encounter bare skin. It had gone; fallen off perhaps in the tussle with Edna. Edna who was now dead.
Not just dead. Murdered.
Ben was speaking again, his voice louder.
“It looks like the same weapon that Gerald was murdered with, though as we still don’t know exactly what that was, we can’t be sure. She was stabbed.”
Keeley let her breath out slowly, pursing her mouth into a small “o,” trying to relieve the feeling of panic that gripped her before she spoke.
“It must have only just happened. How did you know?”
There was a pause before Ben spoke.
“I went back to ask her about this ‘love child’ of Gerald’s she told you about. Just in case there was any significance. Then I found her. I heard the cat mewling like anything while I was outside, and the door was unlocked so I let myself in. I’ve been asking all the neighbors if they saw anything, but most people were out. It’s quite a secluded area; not really visible from the High Street.”
Keeley felt stunned. Who could possibly want to kill an old woman like Edna? Granted, she wasn’t the friendliest of souls, but she was an old lady. A sudden thought struck her, bringing with it another rush of fear.
“You don’t think this had anything to do with my going round to see her?”
&nb
sp; There was another pause. “I don’t know,” Ben said. “Maybe, maybe not. Who knew you had been to see her? More importantly, who knew what you might have spoken about?”
“Only Megan,” Keeley said, reaching again for the pendant that wasn’t there. “And Raquel and Duane have been asking me to talk to her. Duane said Raquel knew Gerald had secrets; how much he knows I’m not sure.” She thought about Megan’s accusations against her cousin and felt her head start to swim. She needed a lie down.
Ben must have picked up on her mood because he spoke in a softer tone. “I’ll come round and see you later. Get some rest.”
“I will.” Keeley lay back on the bed, exhaustion flooding her body. “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you later.” He rang off before Keeley had a chance to articulate the “I love you” that was left lingering on her lips.
She closed her eyes, inhaling a slow breath, but although she felt her body relax there was little that could soothe the chatter in her mind right now. Edna was dead. And there was every chance Keeley’s visit to her could have provoked that. She felt remorse wash over her, even as she tried to dampen it with logic. No one other than Megan had known she was going to see the old lady at that time. And there had been no one there to overhear. It could be a coincidence, perhaps, a burglary that got out of hand, or something totally unrelated to Gerald’s murder … but even as Keeley tried to convince herself of that scenario, she knew she didn’t believe it. Life rarely produced complete coincidences, in her opinion. As a yogi, the notion of cause and effect formed a large part of her worldview. And if her visit to Edna had helped result in her murder, then she knew the chain of events wasn’t going to stop there. If, a voice nagged at the corners of her mind, Edna had been killed because she knew something about Gerald and Gerald’s death, then anyone else who had hinted at knowing secrets about Gerald could be in danger. Such as Raquel and Duane.
Such as Keeley herself.
A Death at the Yoga Café Page 11
