by H. Y. Hanna
Then something caught hold of her collar and lifted her upwards, helping to prop her up in the air and ease the weight on her arm. Caitlyn gasped and looked up to see a fuzzy brown fruit bat hovering in the air above her head.
Viktor!
He was beating his wings furiously and his clawed feet were clenched in the fabric of her shirt, yanking it up. There was a large tear in one wing, making his flight crooked, but he still flapped his wings valiantly, doing his best to hold her in the air. Caitlyn felt a rush of relief and gratitude. She turned back to the stone wall of the tower and tried once again to stretch her left hand up and reach the ledge. With Viktor taking some of her weight, she managed to heave her left arm up and…
Yes! She caught the edge of the stone with her fingers. Feeling a surge of hope, she clung on now with two hands and tried to find a foothold so she could climb up. But the tower was too smooth. She almost lost her hold again when her foot slipped. She gave up and hoped desperately that James would reach the top soon.
The fruit bat was starting to make frantic squeaking noises and Caitlyn realised that it was tiring. It wasn’t strong enough to bear her weight for long, especially with that damaged wing. Already, she was sinking lower and lower as the exhausted bat grew weaker. She looked desperately up at the ledge again. Without a foothold, the only way she could haul herself back up was if she could do a pull-up, using just her arms. But she was clinging to the ledge by the tips of her fingers and barely had the upper-body strength to hang on, never mind haul herself up…
“Caitlyn!”
Suddenly, two strong hands gripped her wrists. It was James. He was there, panting heavily, his face a mixture of relief and terror. The next moment, Caitlyn felt herself being pulled to safety.
“Caitlyn… oh my God, Caitlyn…”
James caught her in his arms and hugged her close, dropping his cheek against her forehead. Caitlyn clung to him, trembling, and savoured the feel of his warm body against hers, his strong arms around her. She had never felt so safe, so cherished as at that moment. She could feel James’s heart pounding against hers and she realised suddenly how terrified he had been.
“James…” she choked, wanting to say something but still unable to talk.
“Shh… It’s all right… you’re safe now…” he said, stroking her hair tenderly with one hand.
Caitlyn felt his lips brush her temple, then linger against her ear and down the side of her jaw. She raised her face, her heart hammering—although whether it was still from fear or something else, she didn’t know—and looked up into James’s dark grey eyes. His lips were inches away from hers and Caitlyn felt herself trembling with anticipation.
Slowly, his arms tightened around her… he lowered his head towards hers…
A burst of high-pitched squeaks sounded suddenly next to them, breaking them apart. A little brown fruit bat reeled up from the side of the tower and lurched over their heads, flapping weakly as the strong wind buffeted him one way, then the other. Then he fell in a tangle of leathery wings to hit the side of the bell and land on the floor of the belfry with a thump.
“Oh!” cried Caitlyn, breaking free from James’s embrace and running over to the bat. She scooped up the little creature and cradled it in her arms. Thankfully, it didn’t look like it was seriously hurt, just slightly stunned. Already, it was making grumpy squeaks and struggling to stand up.
“Is it all right?” asked James, coming up behind her. He peered down at the furry creature. “That was the bat that was trying to save you! It was the most extraordinary thing. I mean, I’ve heard of altruistic behaviour in animals—there are lots of cases of dolphins rescuing people—but I’ve never heard of it in small animals.” He shook his head. “Perhaps it mistook you for prey or something—but it really did look like it was trying to hold you up and stop you falling.”
Caitlyn hid a smile and looked down at the fruit bat. “Perhaps I’ve got a little guardian angel.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“I still can’t believe that the murderer wasn’t that English teacher after all!” Beth Jenkins shook her head incredulously.
“You sure now?” asked Jeremy Bottom, scratching his head.
Caitlyn nodded. They were standing together on the edge of the village green, next to the pub. It was a lovely summer’s morning and she couldn’t believe that only a day ago, she had been hanging from the top of the Folly, fighting for her life.
“Who’s the murderer?”
They all looked down to see Molly standing next to her mother, listening wide-eyed.
“Nobody, darling!” said Beth hastily. She gestured to the cat carrier that Caitlyn was holding. “Why don’t you take Nibs over to that bench there and have a play with him, while Mummy has a little chat?”
“Okay,” said Molly, holding out her pudgy hands for the wicker cage.
“Be careful—don’t let him out of the carrier,” Caitlyn told the little girl as she passed the kitten over. “I need to take him up to the Manor and I don’t want him to run off.”
The little girl toddled off with the kitten and Beth turned back to Caitlyn. She lowered her voice and said, “So the police have definitely ruled out the English teacher?”
“Yes,” Caitlyn said. “It definitely isn’t Lionel Spelling.”
“But I heard that he was seen sneaking off into the woods on the night of the murder. Old Palmer was telling everyone in the pub yesterday that he saw him… but that day in the chocolate shop, Lionel Spelling said he never left his cottage. That means that he was lying, doesn’t it?”
Caitlyn marvelled at the woman’s memory. “Yes, you’re right. He was lying—but not because he murdered anyone. The police questioned him again last night and he broke down and confessed: he’s been illegally distilling liquor. He makes up a few batches during the holiday breaks and sells them to his students when he gets back to the language school. He’s got a home-made still hidden in the woods and he was going to check on it that night. But of course, he didn’t want to admit that to the police.”
“That slimy git was making moonshine in the woods? I told you he was up to no good!” said Jeremy triumphantly.
Beth frowned. “Yes, but if Lionel Spelling didn’t murder that man, then who did?”
“Er…” Caitlyn hesitated. A sense of loyalty to James made her reluctant to badmouth his friend. “Well, the police have a good idea who it is but they haven’t apprehended him yet.”
Which was the truth. When they had finally come back down to the bottom of the Folly yesterday, Caitlyn had expected to find Antoine’s lifeless body sprawled at the base of the tower. Instead, there was nothing—not a trace of the man. Caitlyn had been bewildered until she remembered that Antoine de Villiers was a vampire. Just like Viktor, he could shift into a bat at will—so it would have been the first thing he did when he found himself free-falling from the tower. He must have transformed and flown away to safety.
Now, she gave Beth a conspiratorial smile and said, “I think they’re keeping his identity confidential for the moment, but I’m sure you’ll hear as soon as he’s arrested.”
“Well, do you know if the murderer was the ringleader of the jewel thieves?” asked Beth, obviously hoping to squeeze out every last bit of information for the village gossip mill. “Isn’t that what they said—that Pierre Rochat was a fence and came to Tillyhenge to meet the thieves and get the jewels?”
“Yes, he did come to Tillyhenge to do a deal—he planned to meet the ringleader during the movie. But the murderer wanted the jewels too and tried to interrupt the exchange. Pierre Rochat resisted and he got killed in the struggle.”
Jeremy whistled. “So they were two different people? Everyone thought the ringleader and the murderer were the same person.”
Caitlyn nodded. “That’s what I thought too at first. I never thought there were three people in the woods that night: Rochat, the ringleader of the thieves, and the murderer.”
Beth frowned. “So who is the
ringleader then? Have the police at least arrested him?”
“It’s a ‘her’, actually—the ringleader is Gertrude Smith,” Caitlyn said.
“Gertrude Smith?” Beth’s voice rose several octaves.
Caitlyn nodded. “That’s not even her name. Her real name is Geertje Smidt and she’s a Dutch criminal who’s been on Interpol’s list for decades.”
“But she… but she…” Beth spluttered. “She looked so respectable—”
“That was just a clever disguise. And it obviously worked if you never even suspected her,” said Caitlyn with a wry smile.
“Oh, I always suspected her… always thought there was something fishy about that woman! Thought it was drugs, of course… It could have been too—the Dutch think doing the recreational stuff is okay, don’t they? But I knew there was something off. I told my missus, there’s something fishy about that woman…”
They turned to see Terry the pub landlord coming out of his establishment to join them. Caitlyn’s eyes widened as she saw who was trotting at Terry’s heels: Rocco the terrier! The little dog followed the landlord down the steps in front of the pub, then froze, his nose twitching. He jerked his head across to the nearby bench where Molly was sitting. Caitlyn’s heart sank as she saw that the little girl had disobeyed her: Molly had lifted Nibs out of the carrier and was now sitting with the kitten on her lap.
Caitlyn called urgently, “Molly! Put Nibs back—”
It was too late. The terrier had seen the kitten. He rushed towards the bench, barking and snarling, just as Molly looked up and squealed with fright. The kitten on her lap puffed up into a little ball of spiky black fur and then, to Caitlyn’s astonishment, launched himself, hissing and spitting, at the approaching dog.
The terrier skidded to a stop, an almost comical expression of shock and confusion on his face. There was a flash of claws and a howl of pain, and the next moment, Rocco had turned tail and was trying to get away from Nibs as fast as he could.
Caitlyn burst out laughing. The last thing she had expected was to see the ferocious terrier bested by a little kitten! Nibs gave a last hiss, then turned and stalked back to Molly, his tiny bottle-brush tail straight up in the air.
“Here now!” said Terry, looking down at the cowering dog as Beth and Jeremy laughed too. “What’s that all about? Can’t believe he’s scared of a wee kitten. The police told me he was a vicious brute when they tried to get in the cottage yesterday without his owner there. That’s why I decided to take him.”
“You’re adopting Rocco?” said Caitlyn in surprise.
“Yes, been thinking about getting a guard dog for the pub and the police said the poor tyke needed a home, now that his owner’s been arrested… So I offered to take him in.” He bent to pat the dog, who seemed to recover a bit and wag his tail. “He’s a good size—and very smart. Reckon he could even be trained as a drug-sniffer dog,” said Terry proudly.
Oh dear, Caitlyn thought as she eyed the small dog warily. With Rocco taking up residence at the pub, poor Bran was going to be harassed by the terrier every time he came into the village. Still… She glanced over to the bench where Nibs was back in Molly’s lap and smiled to herself. Maybe Bran will be fine as long as he’s got Nibs with him for protection!
“By the way, where’s your cousin… Pomona, isn’t it?” asked Beth. “Wasn’t she staying with you at the Manor?”
“Er… yes, she was, but she’s… um… gone up to London,” Caitlyn said, trying to dredge up a bright smile.
She didn’t add that—aside from a couple of brief texts—she hadn’t heard from Pomona since they had parted at Harrods. She had tried to call her cousin this morning but hadn’t managed to get through, and she didn’t feel that her harrowing experience in the Folly was something she wanted to explain via text messages. Still, she was hoping to hear back from Pomona later that day… and she was trying not to worry. After all, as Pomona had said herself, she was a big girl now and had been taking care of herself for years. There must have been countless late nights and wild parties back in L.A. that Caitlyn had never known about—so why should this be any different? Resolutely, Caitlyn thrust the image of the dark-haired man with the piercing blue eyes out of her mind and turned back to Beth.
“Well, I’d better get on,” she said. “I’ve got to take Nibs up to the Manor.”
“How’s that going then?” asked Beth with coy glance. “I heard that you and Lord Fitzroy are sharing the kitten? What an unusual arrangement!”
“Yes, well, we rescued him together… er, I mean, we happened to be together when we found him… I mean, not ‘together’ like a couple or anything… Just, um… I was walking up near the stone circle and met James out walking Bran… Anyway, we both heard the kitten crying and we found him in the abandoned quarry pool in the woods. He had fallen in and would have drowned if we hadn’t rescued him.”
“What a romantic story!” said Beth, holding a hand to her heart. “So now you’re ‘sharing’ him?”
“Actually, Nibs was going to live at the Manor—it’s really the better place for him—but he kept trying to stow away with me every time I came back to the chocolate shop,” said Caitlyn with a laugh. “And the Widow Mags loves having him around. So James and I worked out this arrangement where Nibs would live with me part of the week and live at the Manor the rest of the time.”
“Ah… well, Nibs might find himself living at the Manor full-time before long…” said Beth with a meaningful smile.
Caitlyn felt herself blushing and looked quickly away. She knew that the villagers loved to gossip about her and they constantly wondered about her relationship with their handsome “lord of the manor”. After all, she was a complete stranger who had arrived in the village from overseas and was often seen in the company of James Fitzroy, who was probably one of the most eligible bachelors in England…
Any female around James would have been the subject of much speculation, never mind one surrounded by as much mystery as she was!
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The villagers aren’t the only ones wondering what’s going on between James and me, thought Caitlyn as she drove up the driveway of Huntingdon Manor. She flashed back to that moment at the top of the tower, when James had held her in his arms… had he been going to kiss her? Or had it just been the heightened emotions of the moment? Sighing, Caitlyn parked her car, got out, and lifted Nibs in his carrier.
“Meew!” cried the kitten, looking eagerly around.
“All right—here you go,” said Caitlyn, setting the wicker carrier down on the front steps of the Manor and opening the cage door.
The kitten scampered out, mewing loudly. A moment later, there came an answering bark and an English mastiff appeared from around the side of the Manor. He lumbered up to Nibs and touched noses with the kitten.
“Hi Bran,” said Caitlyn, smiling and reaching out to pat the huge head. “I haven’t even thanked you properly for saving my life. If you hadn’t got James to come to the tower—”
“It’s the one time I’m glad he ignored his training,” said James, appearing from the side of the Manor after Bran. He came up to Caitlyn and gave her a twisted smile. “We were just about to go for another round on the boats when Bran arrived and started barking at me. I kept telling him to be quiet and go away, but he wouldn’t listen—which was very unlike him. Then I saw that aquamarine pendant tucked in his collar and I realised that something was wrong.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you saw that!” said Caitlyn. “I didn’t know if it would work but it was the only thing I could think of at the time.”
“It worked, all right—although I wouldn’t have known where to find you if Bran hadn’t picked up your scent and led me straight to the Folly.” James looked at her, the horror of that moment still vivid in his grey eyes. “When I think about what might have happened if I’d had to waste time searching for you in the forest and didn’t get to the Folly in time—”
“But you did,” said Caitlyn quickly.
“And I’m here now, safe and sound… so all’s well that ends well.”
“What happened to that little bat?” James asked. “I still think you should have let me take him to the vet. Russell is very good and his clinic would have looked after the bat while it was recovering—”
“Oh, he’s—I mean, it’s fine,” said Caitlyn, thinking that Viktor would have never forgiven her if she had let him fall into the hands of the veterinarian again! “I… um… gave the bat to Bertha to look after. She’s very good with animals and she’s got some herbal tonics which help them recover really quickly.”
Actually, the last time she’d seen Viktor was that morning, when she found him and the Widow Mags in the kitchen of Bewitched by Chocolate, arguing like an old married couple about the best berries for fruitcake. His arm had been almost healed and he had seemed completely recovered from his ordeal.
“And you?” asked James. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes, fine,” Caitlyn assured him. “The paramedics said I didn’t even pull a muscle in my arm. I was very lucky.”
He frowned. “I still don’t understand what happened. You weren’t very clear when Inspector Walsh questioned you yesterday. What were you and Antoine doing up in the Folly?” His gaze hardened. “I couldn’t see very well from the bottom of the tower but it looked like the two of you were struggling. You were screaming. Was he trying to harm you?”
Caitlyn licked her lips, wondering whether to tell him the truth: “Yes, your friend is a vampire and he was trying to kill me.” What would James do if he heard that? He would never believe her. It was easier just to fib and tell a version of the truth.
“He… um… I think Antoine wanted to kiss me…” she said, looking down and twisting her hands. “And I didn’t want him to… So he was… um… trying to force himself on me…”
