Marigolds in October

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Marigolds in October Page 6

by Clare Revell


  Craig beamed, his heart leaping for joy. “And you inherited the Fraser brilliance then, kiddo, if you can already use the phone. Congrats, Al, that’s wonderful news. How’s Katie?”

  “She and Ellie are just fine. Me on the ootha hand? Well, I have three fractured fingers.”

  “She broke it?” Craig asked, astounded.

  “Nay, I shut it in the car door in my rush to get Katie tae the hospital in time.”

  Craig laughed. “When’s she coming home?”

  “Probably Monday. She needed a few stiches, so they just want tae keep an eye for a couple of days. Her being a first time mum, and all.”

  “I’ll be in tonight for a visit. Give Katie my love.”

  “Will do. See you later.”

  Craig grinned as he put his phone away. “I’m an uncle. Baby girl, half an hour ago.”

  Her grin probably matched his, and he wondered for a moment if she was going to hug him, but she didn’t. “Congratulations. I guess we both need baby presents and cards now.”

  He nodded. “There’s a card shop just along here.”

  “Cool. But first, kilts.” She tilted her head. “Do you own one?”

  “Of course, I do.” He opened the shop door and led her inside. “Along with the socks, sporran, kilt pin, skean dhu…”

  “A what?”

  “Knife.”

  “Ah. Do you…” she hesitated, waving a hand, “…go for the traditional way of wearing it?”

  He winked. “You’ll never know, and it’s a question a lady should never ask a Scotsman.” He pulled a kilt off the rail. “This is my tartan.”

  “It’s lovely. Oh, look…” She moved to another rail and held up a tiny Fraser tartan pinafore dress with cream blouse underneath. “You could get one for your niece.”

  “Aye.” He moved over to where she stood, looking through the rail. Having finally chosen one, he looked for Milly and found her by the kilts. “Picked one yet?”

  “No.” She sighed. “It’s a choice between a black/green, black/white or…” She glanced at the baby dress in his hand. “I really like that one.”

  “Then do it. Question is what length?” He ran his gaze over her figure. “You’d need a fourteen or sixteen?”

  “Good guess. It depends on the cut.”

  Craig pulled six off the rack, both sizes in three different lengths. “Try them. I can give you my opinion if it’ll help.” He sat on the bench outside the changing rooms and grinned as she kept showing him each one.

  “The sixteen fits better,” she said.

  “And the middle length,” he added. “I’ll go pay for this.” He took the baby outfit to the cashier. Milly soon joined him in the queue, with her kilt and a black watch tartan outfit for her friend’s baby.

  He led her back to the car. “I have something to show you before we lose the last o’the daylight.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll see.” He headed out of town towards the beech hedge at Meileour. Her reaction no longer surprised him. Over one hundred feet high and almost a third of a mile long, the hedge was wall to wall color.

  “Oh…wow. Look at that. A fair riot of color.”

  Craig smiled at her enthusiasm. “Alistair always says autumn is a second spring, when every leaf becomes a flower.” He pulled over and parked briefly so she could take a photo. “That is the highest and longest hedge in the world. Give me the phone, and I’ll tak’ one of you standing next to it. Tak’ care crossing the road.”

  Milly posed for him and then got back in the car. “It is so pretty.”

  “Best time o’year tae see it.” He started the car again and drove back to Bridge of Earn. “How about dinner?” he asked.

  “I’ve been meaning to try the Chinese,” she said, pulling out her purse. “But it’s my turn to pay. You got the takeaway the other night.”

  He waited in the car while she went inside and ordered the food. They ate outside on her balcony, candles on the table for light. She opened a bottle of wine, and Craig had one glass as he was driving and not going straight home.

  Just before eight he reluctantly rose. “I ought tae go. I promised I’d visit Katie and the bairn tonight.”

  Milly stood. “Thank you for today, Craig, it’s been lovely.”

  He took her hand, her touch warm against him. Shards of electricity jolted through him. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

  “I did. Good night, Craig. See you Monday.”

  “Good night, Milly.” He headed down the ramp, hoping he’d see her before Monday, but not saying as much. He noticed lights on in the other lodges, but only one with curtains still open.

  A figure stood in the window of lodge four. Was he watching Milly? Craig made a mental note to check out the current occupants of the lodges and then run this bloke through the computer.

  He got in the car and glanced up. Milly leaned on the edge of the balcony, her gaze fixed on him. He waved a hand in farewell as he started the car and drove off. His last sight was of her waving.

  7

  Sunday morning dawned misty and grey, except for the swathe of color on the trees surrounding the lodges. Milly programmed the sat nav with the post code of the church and arrived there at ten fifteen, to find the service started at eleven. She sat in the car for half an hour, reading the Bible.

  The man on the door was very welcoming. He greeted her with a smile and handshake and asked if she were visiting.

  She took a seat and again found herself greeted by several people. She quickly decided the church obviously didn’t get many visitors, but it made a change from her own church where she could go the entire service without speaking to anyone except the bloke on the door.

  A familiar cologne swept over her as a tall figure eased into the chair beside her.

  “Milly, glad you could make it.”

  She glanced up into sparkling blue eyes. “Hello, Craig. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

  “How else would I know aboot the church?” he teased.

  “I thought you knew everything there was to know about Perth,” she replied in the same tone.

  He grinned. “No quite everything.”

  The service began and Milly was surprised to find Craig had a great singing voice with a huge range.

  After the service finished she glanced at him. “How’s the baby?”

  “Gorgeous. She looks like her mum rather than Alistair, which is a good thing.”

  “Och, that’s no a nice thing tae say.” A ginger version of Craig thumped him on the arm, before pulling him into a hug.

  Craig hugged him back. “You ken I dinnae mean it. Al, this is Milly, my new DI. Milly, this is my brother, Alistair.”

  Milly shook hands, noting the splint the man wore on his right hand. “We met on the door on my way in.”

  Alistair smiled. “It’s nice to meet you again. I’d better go, taking Mum and Dad to the hospital to see Ellie and Katie.”

  “Give them my love,” Craig said. “I’ll come in tonight after the service.” He turned to Milly as his brother headed out. “What are your plans for today?”

  “None.”

  “Then would you like tae come tae my place for lunch?”

  Surprised by the invite, Milly nonetheless accepted, eager to spend more time in the presence of this intoxicating man. She followed him back to his house, amazed to find he lived in Bridge of Earn. But then that made sense because he knew about the lodges.

  Craig unlocked the front door. “Been here several years now,” he said. “The Brig, as the locals call the village, is a wonderful place tae live. Make yourself at home. The bathroom is upstairs, second on the right if you want tae freshen up.”

  “Thanks.” She headed upstairs, finding the bathroom clean and straight. When she went back downstairs, Vickery was in the kitchen with Craig, a glass in his hand and a smirk on his face.

  The doorbell chimed. Vickery set down his glass. “That will be the others. I’ll let them in, sha
ll I?”

  Craig nodded. “Thanks. I’ll get the food on the table. Jenson, can you give me a hand?”

  Milly jolted. Back to being Jenson? She recovered quickly to nod. “Sure.”

  He held her gaze. “What? You didnae think it’d just be the two of us, did you?”

  “I—” She shook her head, not going to admit that, though it was exactly what she’d hoped. Instead, she grabbed the bowl of salad. “Where do you want this?”

  “I’ll show you.” Craig grabbed another dish and headed down the hallway, greeting the other members of the team.

  Milly shoved down her disappointment as she followed.

  ****

  Monday morning, Milly arrived at her office to find the door open. She’d locked it on Friday. She could remember doing it. She checked her computer and sighed. She reached for the phone and called Craig. “Guv, do you have a minute? Can you come to my office?”

  A few minutes later, he tapped on the door frame, looking smart in his suit, white shirt, and Fraser tartan tie. “What’s up?”

  “I know I locked my office door on Friday, but when I got here it was open.”

  “Cleaners?”

  Milly pointed to the full waste basket. “Come in and shut the door.”

  Craig shut the door and crossed over to her desk. He sat.

  Milly noticed everyone in the main squad room watching them. “And my computer’s been tampered with.”

  He frowned. “You sure?”

  “I maybe a Sassenach fae the sooth,” she said in a mock Scottish accent, “but I’m no stupid. I uploaded the photos I took at the crime scene and they’ve gone.” She spun the screen to show him.

  “Mibbe you just thought you’d done it…”

  “I also emailed them to you and to my other email.”

  “I havenae got as far as email this morning.”

  “Don’t bother. There is no record on the work email of it being sent.”

  Craig frowned. “Then perhaps…”

  “I didn’t imagine it.” She pulled out her phone. “Look. It’s here.” She showed him the email on her phone. “That gives you the date and time it was sent.”

  Craig’s frown deepened. “Change your password for the email and change the access password on the computer. Then forward those photos from your phone to my personal email.” He gave her the address.

  Milly typed rapidly. “Done.”

  “Now, talk me through this board of yours oot there.”

  Milly stood and followed him outside into the main squad room. She explained the chart and the links between the two lists. “I’m still not convinced it’s a copycat.”

  Vickery snorted. “Then surely the names would be the same.”

  “The first initials are, as are the occupations,” she argued. “Look.” She added in a third column.

  “With the noticeable exception o’ Mrs. Tanner.” Vickery smirked from where he slouched with his boots on his desk.

  “Actually, that’s not entirely accurate.” DC Bradbury, a petite blonde whom Milly really wasn’t convinced was old enough to be a cop, never mind a plain clothed one, raised a hand. “I did some checking and Sandy Tanner has an alias.”

  Millie felt sick as she took the file.

  “What?” Craig asked, knocking Vickery’s feet to the floor.

  “She’s an escort; she works under the name Marie. Her client list is pretty exclusive, but you might recognize a couple of the names.”

  Milly glanced down the list then handed it to Craig, none the wiser. “I don’t know any of them, but there is your link.”

  Craig visibly paled as he read the file. “Aye. Right, this information doesnae leave the office, is that understood? Brooks, I want you tae bring in Mr. Tanner for questioning. Vickery, you and Bradbury go through this list. Find oot where each of them were the day Sandy Tanner vanished.” He paused as they nodded. “Jenson, I want you tae sit in on Mr. Tanner’s interview.” He turned to the board. “It cannae be the same perp.”

  “Why not?”

  “You saw him die, for a start.”

  Milly raised an eyebrow. “I saw the building burn.”

  “With the perp, hostage and three police officers in it,” Vickery snorted. “On your instructions.”

  Every eye in the room settled on her and Milly cringed. She glared at him. “I didn’t blow those charges. He did.” She looked at Craig. “Oh, and you might want to stake out the harbor, because that is where the next victim will be taken from.”

  “I’ll tak’ that under advisement. Right now, I have tae go and visit Chief Constable Doone. He’d better learn this from me rather than the press.”

  “Thought you told us not to tell anyone,” Milly said.

  He fixed his piercing gaze on her. “I ken what I said, and I also ken that something like this is going to leak one way or the other.” He looked over the entire office. “You’ve all got your orders, now get oot o’here.”

  ****

  Craig stood outside the interview room, waiting for Milly. As she came out and shut the door, he touched her arm, concerned by the haunted look in her gaze. “Well?”

  “Not here, the walls have ears.”

  He glanced at his watch and then returned his gaze to her pale face. Something was bothering her. “It’s lunchtime. I suggest we go and eat and worry about the case later.”

  “Sure,” she whispered.

  “Get your coat. We’ll eat out, get some fresh air. Meet you in two minutes in the lobby.”

  He grabbed his own coat and held open the outside door for her when she joined him. Ten minutes later, having picked up chips and coffee, he sat beside her on the bench in the North Inch. He unwrapped the chips and angled the paper on his lap. “Dig in.”

  “Will you not say grace first?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.” He said grace, then sipped his coffee. The weather was misty, obscuring the view, and a tad damp and chilly, but out here there was little chance they’d be overheard.

  Milly took one of the chips. “These always taste better out of paper,” she said. “No idea why.”

  He nodded. “Aye.” He picked up a rectangle of batter and broke it in half. “Try this. It’s as Scottish as a haggis, but sweeter.”

  Milly looked at the end he’d given her and took a bite. Her face creased in what could be either disgust or shock. Her mouth worked frantically to clear the gooey mass.

  Craig couldn’t help but laugh as she handed it back to him. “No?”

  “No…” She took a long swig of coffee followed by half a dozen chips. “What is that?”

  “A battered chocolate bar.”

  “I’m sorry, but that is horrible. I’ll stick to the chips.”

  He smiled, tucking into the chocolate and the chips. “So…what did you learn? Other than fried chocolate is a no no.”

  “Mr. Tanner knew what his wife was doing,” she said quietly, in between bites. “They got into financial difficulties about four years ago. The escort agency was his idea. She got a couple of friends to join in. Tanner ran the agency—his main export business is a front for it.”

  Craig looked at her, shock running though him, chilling him to the core. “He pimps his own wife?”

  “Yeah.” She took another chip and studied it for a long moment before eating it. “He’s lucky his head is still on his shoulders. Brooks wanted to knock his block off. I stopped him. How’d the Chief Constable take it?”

  “No well. I showed him the client list and he looked as pale as vanilla ice cream. You ken, for one awful moment I wondered if he’d, y’ken, called the agency and booked a girl, only to have his daughter turn up.”

  “You think he’d admit it if he had?”

  Craig shrugged and ate thoughtfully, his mind running rampant. Rage filled him, causing his hands to shake and almost spill the coffee. “What kind o’man does that tae his own wife?”

  Milly kept her gaze on the misty trees in the distance. “Not one
I want to meet or marry, that’s for sure.”

  “What ever happened tae being faithful?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, but you can take being obedient too far. I’m sorry, but if my husband wanted to share me with another bloke, never mind a shed load of them, I’ll tell him where to stick it, never mind the vow of obedience. The faithful one matters just as much.”

  “Dinnae be sorry, lassie. I’d never ask that of any woman, never mind my wife.”

  They both went for the last chip at the same time and Craig pulled back. “You have it.”

  “So gentlemanly,” Milly grinned. She broke it in half and held out one piece to him. “We’ll share. Not that I’ve ever come close to marriage. Never even had a boyfriend.”

  He tilted his head, wiping his fingers on his hanky. “Really? A pretty girl like you?”

  She blushed, looking vulnerable and pretty at the same time. “I work…a lot. What about you?”

  “Me?” He crushed the chip paper and tossed it in the bin next to him.

  “Yeah, you. You’re a good looking bloke. You must have women falling at your feet.”

  Craig’s cheeks burned and he wished he hadn’t shaved off the stubble. “There was one girl, but a while ago now. We had different ideas as to what love and a relationship meant.” He paused. “She wanted more than I was prepared to give without a wedding ring and a commitment to each other in a church.”

  Milly smiled. “Well, I agree with you on that score.”

  He held her gaze, then his gaze moved downwards, lingering on her lips and fighting an insane urge to kiss her. He reached out, brushing the salt crystals from her lips and the tiny piece of crystal from the corner of her mouth. She parted her lips a little, catching her breath. He leaned in, closing his eyes, his mouth almost on hers.

  Her hand slid up his arm.

  His phone rang, shattering the moment. He groaned and pulled out the handset, keeping eye contact with Milly. “Fraser.” He sighed as Vickery spoke rapidly. “The DI’s with me. OK, we’ll be there in ten minutes. Tell them to no touch anything.” He put the phone away. “They found Sandy Tanner’s body.”

 

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