Keeley nodded, still intent on not giving an inch, not yet, although she could feel the love for him welling up in her chest and she had to blink back tears.
“But these last few days,” he went on, “have been torture. I don’t want to be without you, Keeley, and I love you the way you are, even if you do infuriate me sometimes. I’ve regretted what I said ever since I said it, but I was too stubborn to do anything about it. Then when I came in yesterday and you all but ignored me and sat with that painter, and I felt so jealous … I just thought, Ben Taylor, are you really going to be stupid enough to let the best thing that ever happened to you go? So here I am, if you’ll have me.”
Keeley had a moment of reticence, of telling herself she shouldn’t give in so easily, that she should make him work a little harder, then she went with her heart and all but threw herself into his arms. Ben hugged her to him, squeezing her as if he would never let her go again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. Keeley breathed in the scent of him, overwhelmed by her feelings for him. By the knowledge that he was still, if she wanted him to be, hers.
“I’m sorry too, and you’re squashing me,” she said, her voice muffled by his chest. He let her go, laughing. His dimples came out when he laughed like that, and he looked almost boyish. DC Taylor was left behind, and he was just Ben. Her Ben.
“I am sorry,” she went on more seriously, “I should have been more open with you that I was helping Raquel. It seemed the right thing to do at the time, and I was so worried for Raquel. But I could have spoken to you first.”
“No, Keeley, I never gave you the chance. I shouldn’t have shut you out. I just didn’t want you hurt. And I didn’t trust Raquel, and I was worried she was trying to drag you into something for her own ends.”
Keeley sighed. “I can understand why you would think like that, but really, you have to just trust sometimes that I can make my own decisions.”
“I’ll try, Keeley,” he promised, “I just get so caught up in wanting to protect you, and fix everything, and solve this bloody case.”
Keeley took his hand and led him over to the sofa, where they sat down next to each other, their fingers entwined.
“I don’t care about the case right now,” Keeley murmured, her eyes on that deliciously full mouth. She leaned over and pressed her lips softly against his, and instantly his arms were around her again and his mouth crushing against hers, and she lost herself in the sensation of him for a few minutes until she pulled back, smiling. He looked into her eyes, his expression serious.
“I’m never letting you go again.”
“Good,” she quipped, then went on, “Honestly, Ben, I’ve been so heartbroken at the thought we were over. Don’t do this to me again, not unless you’re certain you mean it.”
“It’s never going to happen,” he promised, running the pad of his thumb over her mouth. She bit her lip, her eyes automatically going to the bed. He followed her gaze and grinned.
“Let’s go and make up properly, shall we?”
She nodded, then gasped as in one movement he pulled her onto his lap and then stood up, lifting her. Then he carried her over to the bed and proceeded to show her exactly how much he had missed her.
Afterward, she lay with her head on his chest, her hand entwined with his. The world felt right-side up again. She told him about Jack and her mother, laughing when he looked completely bemused.
“Really? I would have never put those two together. Still, if they’re happy, I’m happy for them. She might just have met her match there.”
“I think so. She seems to really like him. I knew she’d been acting odd lately. I even started wondering if she might be the murderer.”
“Your mother?” Ben said incredulously. “Why on earth? I know she can be hard work, Keeley, but why would you think that?”
She told him about Gerald and Ben nodded, understanding dawning.
“Gerald had secrets everywhere. Remember the Terry Smith case, when his finances got him mixed up in that, and now it seems he was having affairs left, right, and center.”
“If he was paying out for a secret daughter for fourteen years, maybe that’s one reason his finances ended up in a mess,” Keeley mused, then saw Ben frowning at her and realized what she had said.
“You know she died when she was fourteen?” Ben asked. Keeley sighed, then nodded. If they were going to get back together, then she wasn’t going to start on a lie. She just hoped he wasn’t going to be angry again.
“I did do some asking around. I was starting to worry about Mum and I was desperate for it to be someone—anyone—else. I won’t do it again without telling you,” she promised, then heard her own words and amended them to, “Well, I’ll try not to.”
Ben gave her a wry smile. “I don’t believe that for a moment, Keeley Carpenter. You’ve actually got a knack for it, maybe it’s a new calling,” he teased before saying earnestly, “Let’s just tell each other things in the future. I’ll be more open about my work, and you don’t go rushing off asking questions without at least speaking to me about it first. You never know, you could be quite a good sidekick.”
Keeley jabbed him playfully in the ribs. “Less of the ‘sidekick.’ But yes, that sounds like a compromise we can live with.” They kissed again, and then Keeley said, coming up for air, “Does this mean you’re going to let me know what’s going on now, then?”
Ben pulled her back onto his chest. “Tenacious, aren’t you? And I would if there was anything to tell. But I’m just no further along. The problem really is the murder weapon. We haven’t found one and don’t even really have a clue exactly what it was.”
Keeley thought about that. This was the one thing she didn’t know much about.
“They were both stabbed, right? With the same weapon?”
“Presumably, yes, but by the look of things not with any normal knife.”
“Oh?”
Ben grimaced. “No, we’re looking at something very small and very sharp—like a scalpel of some kind.”
“A scalpel?” That would imply someone with a medical background surely—or at least access to their tools. She could ask Diana, she said; she had trained as a nurse briefly.
“Yes. Gerald was killed with long cuts to the torso, after what looks like an initial stab to the heart. Almost like someone was trying to perform open heart surgery.”
“You’re looking for someone with a basic knowledge of human anatomy then?”
“Rudimentary, at least. Think butcher rather than surgeon. Sorry,” he said quickly when Keeley shuddered. Watching her father carve up carcasses had helped put her off meat for life.
“How about Edna? Was she killed in the same way?” She felt sad at the thought of someone treating an old woman in that way, and almost relieved when her death proved to be slightly less macabre.
“Same weapon, but she was stabbed in the neck. Right in the jugular. So again, the murderer at least knew where they were aiming.”
“Who could do that?” It sounded a very cold, premeditated way to kill people, Keeley thought, not a spur of the moment crime of passion. Whoever the murderer was, they had gone to see both Gerald and his former housekeeper with no intention of leaving either of them alive.
“Well, that’s where I’m stuck,” Ben said with a bitter laugh. “Anyone with any motive has an alibi. Suzy has a slightly suspect alibi for Gerald, given that it’s her boyfriend, but no motive. Even Raquel has an alibi—a real one—for Edna’s death. Not that it will prevent her being charged with Gerald’s death if CPS decide to do so.”
“So she still isn’t off the hook.” Keeley sighed. It seemed her own investigating had reached the same dead end as Ben’s, and she hadn’t succeeded in completely clearing Raquel’s name either.
“A lead will turn up somewhere,” Ben said, trying to sound upbeat. “I’ve just got to keep digging.” He kissed the top of her head. “I need to get back to the station and finish up some paperwork; I came runni
ng round here without sorting anything. How about I pick you up for dinner afterwards?”
“That sounds lovely,” Keeley smiled. They kissed again, then she swung her legs out of the bed and got up to get dressed. She watched Ben as he pulled his clothes on, a rush of happiness making her feel giddy. God, but she loved him.
She walked him down to the door, and was halfway up the stairs to the apartment when she heard her phone ring. She jogged up the last couple of stairs and picked her phone up from the kitchenette counter, seeing Raquel’s name flash up on the screen. She wondered if she was going to ask her to start investigating again.
“Hello?”
“Keeley? I was wondering if you could come over?” Raquel sounded strained. “I’m at the diner.”
“Okay,” Keeley said slowly. “Any particular reason?”
“It’s about Gerald, I think I’ve found something out. I can’t talk over the phone.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Keeley cut the call, staring at her phone. There had been something off about Raquel’s voice. Realizing she could be walking straight into danger, but knowing she was still going to go, she phoned Ben, cursing when it rang through to the voicemail. She left a message, then stood for a while drumming her fingers on the countertop, wondering what she should do. The phone rang again, making her jump. It was Megan.
“I just found out something,” she said excitedly.
“You’re not the only one tonight.” She told her friend about Raquel’s call, then asked, “What is it?”
“I’m in Matlock listening to my friend’s band. His mum knows Gerald quite well, I mean knew, and she was just telling me how apparently, a few days before his death, he was getting irate calls from some young woman, an artist, because Gerald had voted to cut funding for the art festival next year, so it won’t be going ahead.”
“Right,” said Keeley, wondering if Megan was being deliberately obtuse or if she was just missing the point, “so what’s that got to do with his death?”
“Well, how many angry young female artists do we know? One who seemed to take great relish in painting the manner of Gerald’s death.”
“Suzy. But she was with Christian. You think he would really cover up for her?”
“Duane did for Raquel,” Megan pointed out, “and Suzy and Christian have been together a lot longer.”
Keeley recalled what Ben had said about Suzy. Her alibi could be shaky, but she had no motive. Was Gerald’s lack of concern for the arts enough of a motive? It sounded flimsy, but there was no denying Suzy was passionate, to say the least.
“She doesn’t have long dark hair,” she pointed out, referring to Tom’s sighting.
“Tom is a space cadet,” said Megan with no apparent irony. “He told me he saw unicorns once. Too many magic mushrooms.”
“I thought you believed in unicorns?”
“Not when Tom sees them,” Megan said firmly. Keeley suppressed a laugh, turning her attention back to matters at hand.
“I’ll tell Ben. I’m trying to get hold of him to tell him about Raquel.”
“You’re on talking terms then?”
Keeley told her of the evening’s events and Megan gave a little whoop. Then she agreed to make her way back to Belfrey and meet Keeley at the diner.
“If it is Suzy, she’s staying in your house,” Keeley pointed out. She rang off, tried Ben again to no avail, and then shrugged on her jacket and started to make her way to the diner. As she walked she thought about what Megan had told her. To Suzy, Gerald’s voting against the festival might be motive enough in her mind, but where did Edna fit into that? And what about the murder weapon? Where would Suzy get a surgeon’s scalpel from?
Unless, said a voice in her mind, it wasn’t a surgeon’s scalpel at all. Didn’t artists use scalpel-like tools? Suzy worked with glass and also did engravings and sculpture—it was well within the realm of possibility that she used tools that would be sharp enough to kill. And artists were likely to have at least a basic knowledge of human anatomy. Feeling she was on to something, Keeley felt her heart thump in her chest. It still didn’t explain where Edna fit in to it all, but perhaps Raquel had discovered something?
She was nearly at the diner now. Stopping, she pulled out her phone and tried Ben again. Still no answer. She left a rushed message, relaying what Megan had told her and her thoughts about the murder weapon, then headed into the diner. The blinds were down, but light peeped through them and the door was open. She knocked and went in.
There was no sign of Raquel. The diner wasn’t empty, though. Her heart sank as she saw the young woman leaning against the counter, regarding her with a satisfied smirk.
Suzy.
Chapter Seventeen
Keeley put on a bright smile, though her stomach was twisting with anxiety. Where was Raquel?
“How nice to see you,” said Suzy, without bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice. Keeley wondered if she held a grudge for damaging her painting. If she had truly murdered Gerald just for voting against the art festival, then Keeley might well be next on her hit list. Keeley found herself edging back toward the door.
“Where’s Raquel?” Keeley asked, echoing her concerns. Suzy shrugged and looked annoyed.
“I don’t know. She phoned me and asked me to meet her here. I expect she’s on her way.”
That was odd. Taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, Keeley took a seat at the table nearest the entrance, reminding herself that she had no real proof Suzy was the killer. She might well be putting two and two together and coming up with five hundred. But why would Raquel want to talk to both of them? She wondered if she had judged the situation all wrong and Raquel was going to confess. Or perhaps she had gotten her manicured nails into Christian and wanted to tell Suzy, with Keeley there to ensure the artist didn’t try to scratch her eyes out.
Or take a scalpel to them. Keeley shuddered. Suzy narrowed her eyes at her.
“What’s the matter with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m just cold,” said Keeley, although she knew it was still warm outside in spite of the coming twilight. Wondering when Raquel was intending to put in an appearance, she reached into her bag for her phone. Raquel’s number went straight to voicemail. Keeley was sure that when she had spoken to her, Raquel had indicated she was already at the diner.
“Where’s Christian?” she asked. Suzy just looked at her, and Keeley felt a frisson of fear. Had she done something to him too? Perhaps caught him in a clinch with Raquel? Although she couldn’t quite imagine the mild-mannered Christian doing such a thing.
“He’s gone to see a band in Matlock. Why do you ask?”
“With Megan?” Keeley said, answering Suzy’s question with one of her own. Megan hadn’t mentioned Christian was there, and when Suzy’s eyes went wide with surprise she realized she may have caught the girl out. She looked toward the door, judging the distance and the time it would take her to get out if the girl went for her. She decided she would give it five minutes to see if Raquel showed, and then she was off.
“I’m not sure,” Suzy said slowly, looking as if she was thinking hard. Then she glared at Keeley.
“I’m glad you’re here actually. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about reimbursing me for my painting.”
Keeley nodded, deciding it was best to humor her.
“Of course. If you come into the café tomorrow, we’ll have a chat about it. I’m really very sorry,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as insincere as she felt.
“No you’re not.” Suzy wasn’t fooled for a moment. “You hated it.”
“No, I think you’re incredibly talented,” she said with more honesty, “but I suppose the, er, subject matter was a bit shocking.”
“Death is one of the most profound inspirations for an artist,” Suzy said, rather arrogantly. Keeley looked at her phone again, wishing Raquel would turn up or better yet, Ben. How long would it be before he saw her calls and checked his voicemail?
“I’m sure it is. It was just a bit upsetting for the residents.”
“Oh really?” Suzy scoffed. “I haven’t heard any genuine grief for the mayor, just a lot of gossip and malicious rumor.”
“Edna genuinely grieved him,” Keeley said without thinking, and then immediately wished she hadn’t mentioned the other murder victim.
“Well, he deserved to die anyway,” Suzy said, her face twisting with a cold rage that transformed her pretty, if sullen, features into a visage that left Keeley in no doubt that Suzy was more than capable of murder. She felt herself go cold all over. This was it; the girl was going to confess. Where the hell was Ben?
“What makes you say that?” Keeley asked, being very careful to keep her voice neutral, trying to remember everything she had ever read or seen on CSI about talking to murderous maniacs. Suzy’s eyes glittered angrily.
“He was going to cut funding to the arts festival. This would have been the last year. Can you believe it? The arts are vital, especially to small communities such as this!” Suzy’s voice rose higher as she spoke.
“I agree, they are very important.”
Suzy glared at her. “You’re patronizing me.” She shifted forward in her chair, and Keeley jumped to her feet, her heart thumping in her chest. Suzy sat back, looking surprised again, the anger gone.
“I’m going to go, it doesn’t look as though Raquel is coming, and Ben’s on his way. Here,” she added, hoping Suzy believed her. Every muscle in her body was tense and coiled as she prepared herself to make a run for it. When Suzy just shrugged Keeley blinked, confused.
“Suit yourself. I’ll wait for a while. She had better not be with Christian.” The girl looked angry again. Keeley felt utterly bemused. Had she got it all wrong, and it wasn’t Suzy at all? But the girl had all but admitted she had wanted Gerald to die.
“Right. I’m sure she’s not. I’ll see you soon.” Keeley turned to go out of the door, and bumped straight into a manly chest. She felt a surge of relief for a second until she saw it wasn’t Ben, but Christian, who looked from her to Suzy with a strange look on his face. Keeley stepped back to let him in, and he shut the door behind him and stood in front of it, barring the way.
A Death at the Yoga Café Page 20
