by Agatha Frost
“Are you making a bid for freedom?” Tommy asked, startling her.
Julia slid back through the fence and crouched down to look at the missing bolts that allowed the fence panels to move. She ran her fingers along the holes, noticing how fresh the metal underneath looked. It appeared as though the bolts hadn’t been missing for long.
“How long has this fence been like this?” Julia asked Tommy, who was standing behind her with Jessie.
“Is it important?” Jessie looked down her nose at Julia as she examined the ground around the fence.
“I don’t know,” Julia mumbled, tapping her chin. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I couldn’t tell you, truth be told,” Tommy said with a frown as he leaned his entire bodyweight on his stick. “Why do you ask?”
“Where was Bailey when you found him?” Julia asked, pushing herself up from the ground and brushing the creases out of her peacoat.
“Just here,” Tommy said, walking a couple of feet down the fence and tapping his stick on the ground. “He was facing into the fence. What are you thinking, Julia?”
“Nothing,” Julia said, forcing forward a smile, not wanting to give Tommy false hope. “I’m just overthinking things.”
“There’s a soup van,” Jessie said, hooking her thumb over her shoulder to a food truck that had pulled up outside of the entrance of the industrial park. “Stella and Max from the soup kitchen always bring their leftovers at this time of night and there’s always plenty to go around.”
“Sounds good to me,” Julia said with a nod. “Lead the way.”
As they joined the end of the long line for soup, Julia glanced over her shoulder at the fence, knowing it was more than possible for somebody to sneak in during the night to kill homeless people. Looking at Mac as he strummed away peacefully on his guitar, she wondered what could possibly motivate somebody to do such a terrible thing.
Later that week, Julia found herself sitting at Barker’s dining room table for a second attempt of their ruined picnic date. The bought sandwiches were gone, replaced with the rich and hearty scent of beef stew drifting through from the kitchen as Barker topped up their wine glasses.
“I see you’ve unpacked,” Julia said, motioning through the archway to the living room, which had still been full of boxes on her last visit. “It’s starting to feel a little homelier around here.”
“Well, I figured if I was sticking around in the village I had to stop living out of boxes.” Barker sipped his wine, his eyes twinkling in the flickering candlelight. “I’d like to think I've put my own touch on the place.”
Julia looked around the cottage, which was still quite bare compared to her own. The furniture was white and sterile, more suited to a city apartment than a Cotswold cottage. That juxtaposition matched Barker’s presence in the village, but both seemed to work.
Barker hurried off to the kitchen and returned with two large bowls filled to the brim with rich, bubbling beef stew. He had splashed the gravy all down the sides of the white bowl, and slapped the dish on the table without a placemat. It wasn’t exactly how Julia would do things, but she appreciated the effort all the same.
“This smells delicious for a man who claimed not to be able to cook,” Julia said as she leaned into the steaming bowl.
“This is one of the few things my old mum taught me,” Barker said as he topped up their already full wine glasses again. “You fry some onions and garlic, toss in some bacon and beef, add the stock, a glug or three of red wine, and then you throw the whole thing in a slow cooker for the best part of a day. Idiot proof!”
Julia skimmed her spoon across the top of the stew and sampled Barker’s creation. It tasted as delicious as it smelled, and the red wine definitely shone through.
“Tell me more about your mother,” Julia asked as they started to tuck into their food. “You’ve never spoken about her before.”
Barker smiled sadly down into his stew. Just from the slight crease between his brows, she could sense that Barker’s mother was in the same place as her own.
“She died five years ago,” Barker said, dropping his spoon and leaning across the table towards Julia. “She was a remarkable woman. She swore like a sailor but she had a heart of gold. She wasn't a woman many people would dare cross, because she would let them know about it. She raised me and my brothers singlehandedly and she never once complained.”
“I’m sad I couldn't meet her. She sounds great.”
“She would have loved you,” Barker said with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling. “She had a sweet tooth like nobody I've ever met, so you two would have gotten on like a house on fire.”
“What was her favourite cake?”
“She could never say no to a coconut cake,” Barker said with a small sigh. “I haven’t had one since her funeral. The whole buffet at the funeral was cakes. We knew she would have loved that.”
Julia made a mental note to dig through her own mother’s handwritten recipe books because she was sure she had come across a coconut cake recipe in her time. Barker was more of a double chocolate cake type of man, but she knew it would bring a smile to his face. She liked hearing about his life, even if it did make her realise how little she knew the village’s new Detective Inspector.
“Are you close to your brothers?” Julia asked, already feeling full but barely making a dent in her overflowing stew.
“As close as a group of men with their own careers can be,”’ Barker said, pausing to sip his wine. “I’m the baby of four, and I’m the only bachelor in the family, which only becomes more apparent at family parties. They’ve all got wives and between them they've given me nine nieces and nephews. Keeps Christmas expensive.”
“Have you never thought about having kids?”
“I did,” Barker said with a firm nod. “Once upon a time.”
Julia sensed some sadness in his words. Were they connected to a previous relationship? She almost asked, but she bit her tongue, remembering she still hadn’t told Barker that she was technically still in the middle of her divorce. She had finally signed her papers and sent them off to her solicitor, but she was still waiting to hear if their decree absolute had been granted. Jerrad had been the one pushing the process along ever since changing the locks of their London apartment and politely informing her he was leaving her for his twenty-seven-year-old secretary, but she wouldn't put it past him to start dragging his heels in the final stages. She decided that was a can of worms better left sealed.
“What about you?” Barker asked. “Do you see kids on the horizon?”
The question caught Julia off guard. As a young woman, she had just assumed she would one day have a big family, but like Barker, it just hadn’t worked out that way.
“I don't know,” Julia answered honestly. “Life has a funny way of throwing things at you, don’t you think? I certainly never expected to be fostering a teenager, or dating a Detective Inspector.”
“What you’ve done with Jessie is an amazing thing,” Barker said sincerely. “You should be really proud of yourself. Not many would be as understanding as you have been. How's the fostering process going?”
“Slow,” Julia said, pushing her half-finished bowl away from her. “They’ve granted me temporary fostering rights because she’s a young adult and settled, but it’s a slow process. We’re still waiting for anything official.”
“What about when she turns eighteen?” Barker asked, copying Julia and pushing away his barely touched stew. “What are you going to do with her?”
“She’s not an old couch,” Julia replied coolly, arching a brow. “I’m not just going to kick her out.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Barker held up his hands before topping up their wine again.
“I suppose I’ll let Jessie decide what she wants to do. My guest bedroom isn’t going anywhere, and neither is my café, so I’m here for her as long as she wants me.”
“You’re a good woman, Julia,” Barker smiled softly over the rim of his win
e glass. “If the world was filled with more Julias, it would be a better place.”
“I’m nothing special,” Julia mumbled, ruffling her hair as she felt her cheeks blush. “I’m just a plain old baker.”
“You’re anything but plain, Julia. You’re so much more than that.”
Julia smiled and met Barker’s eyes through the candlelight. He reached out and rested his hand upon hers. It was such a simple action, but it caused such an extraordinary reaction within Julia. A rush of fire shot up her arm and spread rapidly within her body, causing the baby hairs on the back of her neck to prickle.
“Why don’t we take this wine through to the living room?” Barker asked, already standing. “The couch might be a little comfier.”
Julia attempted to reply, but she suddenly had a frog in her throat. She coughed and nodded, scooping up her wine glass. She followed Barker through to the dimly lit living room and they sat next to each other on the couch. He leaned forward and using a long lighter, he lit three untouched candles in a glass stand on the clutter-free coffee table.
“Quite ingenious to have a date in my cottage,” Barker said, darting his brows up and down. “No worry of being interrupted.”
Julia coughed again and gulped down her wine quickly. Red wine wasn't her favourite, but it had been a long and busy week and it was taking the edge off. Every time she was with Barker, she felt inexplicably nervous, something she had never felt with Jerrad. When she had explained this to Sue, her sister had been adamant those feelings were love, but Julia was sure it was too soon to feel something so strong.
“It’s been a lovely evening,” Julia said, perching on the edge of the couch. “You should cook more often. You're quite good at it.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Barker chuckled softly, spreading his arm across the back of the leather couch. “You’ll have to teach me some of your cake recipes. Something simple to get me started.”
Barker’s fingers suddenly danced across the back of Julia’s arms, resting on her shoulder. Her body stiffened, but she couldn’t deny she liked the feeling of Barker’s hands on her. Sipping her wine, she allowed herself to lean into his masculine chest.
“A Victoria sponge cake is always a good place to start,” she said, the shake in her voice obvious. “Or a classic scone.”
“Sounds delicious,” Barker said, looking down into her eyes. “You’re a kind woman, Julia. I really like you.”
“I like you too, Detective Inspector.”
“No,” Barker said softly, shaking his head a little as he laughed. “I really like you.”
Barker rested his glass of red wine on the square couch arm and hooked his finger under Julia’s chin. They stared deeply into each other's eyes, their faces so close she could smell Barker’s musky aftershave on his neck. Gulping, she blinked slowly, noticing that she was edging closer to his lips.
“I really like you too,” Julia whispered, her fingers clutching the wine glass so tightly she was sure it was about to shatter.
Barker’s hand slid from her chin, to the side of her face, his fingers touching the edge of her hair and his palm cupping her cheek. She closed her eyes, smiling as Barker’s soft lips and stubbly chin brushed against her.
She didn't have time to savour the moment because a sudden banging at the door startled them both. Barker jumped back, knocking his red wine and drenching the front of his crisp, white shirt. Cursing out, he stood up and let the wine drip to the white fluffy rug under the glass coffee table. It almost resembled blood.
“Who’s that at this time of night?” Barker mumbled angrily as he headed into the hallway, flicking wine off his hands.
Julia placed her own wine on the table and stood up, observing herself in the mirror above the fireplace. Her hair was a little ruffled, her berry-tinted lips were slightly smudged from Barker’s kiss, and her eyes were a little blurry from the never-ending glass of red wine. Julia had barely finished straightening herself up before Jessie burst into the room.
“Tommy just called,” Jessie said gravely, staring deep into Julia’s eyes, thankfully not seeming to notice what she had just interrupted. “Somebody else has just died. We need to get there now.”
“I’ve been drinking,” Julia said reactively. “We both have.”
“I’ll call a taxi,” Barker said, appearing behind Jessie. “Let me go and change my shirt and I’ll be right back.”
Barker rushed past them both and along the hallway to his bedroom. Through a crack in the door, Julia watched as Barker pulled off his stained shirt. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to Jessie.
“Do you know who has died?” Julia asked, resting her hand on her forehead as she attempted to steady her thoughts.
“Mac,” Jessie said darkly, her bottom lip trembling. “The guitar guy.”
The taxi ride to Fenton Industrial Park was a long and uncomfortable one. Barker sat in the front seat, slapping the dashboard every time they stopped at a traffic light, demanding loudly that the taxi driver speed through them. Despite Barker flashing his badge at the driver more than once, the man barely registered any acknowledgement.
In the back seat, Julia held Jessie as she sobbed silently, dampening Julia’s shoulder. She stroked the girl’s back, trying her best to soothe her. The more she focussed on Jessie’s tears, the easier it was to hold back her own. She had only talked to the musician at the beginning of the week. She couldn’t believe such a talented young man with a staunchly positive outlook on his bleak situation was no longer among the living. She couldn’t wrap her head around the injustice.
When they pulled up outside the industrial park behind two parked police cars, Barker didn’t wait for the taxi to stop before he tossed the money at the driver and jumped out. Julia apologised on his behalf, but once again, the driver barely flinched.
Practically cradling Jessie, Julia helped her out of the car. Two paramedics walked by carrying a stretcher wrapped in a red blanket, so she clasped Jessie’s head to her chest to shield her from seeing such a thing. Julia, on the other hand, couldn’t look away. As they put the Mac’s body into the back of the ambulance, a tear rolled down her cheek when she saw his dark, scruffy hair poking out.
“Jessie!” Tommy cried, hobbling out of the industrial park. “Oh, you poor thing. Come here.”
Jessie let go of Julia and ran into the old man’s arms. Balancing on his stick, he wrapped his free arm around her and rested his cheek on her head as he stroked the back of her hair.
“What happened, Tommy?” Julia asked, resting her hand on the old man’s shoulder.
“It’s the same exact thing,” Tommy yelled, casting his stick towards the fence where Barker was talking to two uniformed officers. “Those pigs won’t listen to me! They don’t care if we live or die!”
Julia set off towards Barker, her stomach knotting when she saw Mac’s guitar lying on the floor in the corner where she had listened to him playing only days ago, its neck broken, and half of its strings snapped.
“He’s been dead a good twelve hours,” she heard one of the officers tell Barker. “There’s nothing to suggest any foul play. You know what it’s like with these people.”
Barker grumbled a reply but he didn’t correct the officer. He walked around to the sleeping bag, pulling it open a little and peering inside.
“And this is where you found him?” Barker asked, letting go of the sleeping bag and standing back up. “In his sleeping bag?”
“If you ask me, boss, he was a junkie like the rest of them and took it too far,” the other officer said. “They’re dropping like flies.”
“He wasn’t on drugs,” Julia said, clearing her throat and stepping forward. “I spoke to him a couple of days ago and he told me he didn’t touch them. He was a guitar player.”
“Aren’t you a little dressed up to be homeless, love?” one of the officers said, smirking as he looked her up and down.
“I’m not homeless,” Julia said sternly, pursing her lips
and planting her hands on her hips. “Did you know he is the fourth man to die in this exact same place in the last month?”
“I was aware of that,” the older officer said, hooking his thumbs into his belt and cocking his head back. “But none of them died suspiciously as far as we’re concerned.”
“You’re telling me there’s nothing suspicious about four men dying, three of whom with inconclusive causes of death, and if I had to bet on it, a fourth one to be added to that same list?” Julia walked over to the fence and touched the moveable panels. “If you ask me, that’s the most suspicious thing I think I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, nobody asked you, love,” the younger officer snickered, rolling his eyes at Barker. “Get out of here.”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Barker said firmly, his jaw flinching. “Julia, go and wait with Jessie.”
The two officers suddenly straightened up and tossed their gazes to the ground.
“Somebody needs to take this seriously, Barker,” Julia pleaded. “This is beyond coincidence now. Three men might have been able to slide, but four? I’d bet my café that these men were murdered.”
The older officer sighed heavily, rolling his eyes at the younger officer, his head still dropped. Julia was used to members of the police force underestimating her.
“These fence panels move,” Julia said, undeterred by the officers. “I know for a fact that three of the men all died up and down this fence. My theory is that whoever is murdering these men, they’re squeezing through this gap in the fence and somehow killing them while they sleep.”
“And how do you suppose they’re doing that?” the younger officer sneered, barely holding back his laughter. “The kiss of death? These men weren’t strangled, smothered, or stabbed. There’s no cause of death. And besides, that gap is tiny. Only a tiny woman or child would fit through there.”
Julia grabbed hold of the young officer’s arm and pulled him towards the fence. Reaching over the tall man, she pried apart the metal panels and pushed him through. The front of his uniform snagged the metal, but he fit.
