“Your gift to Britain,” said Sarah, smiling.
“To Cherringham, at least. Hope I’m remembered for more than my martinis,” said Jack.
“You are, Jack.”
Jack saw her face, open and smiling, and felt that maybe she really had forgiven him now.
Then a voice from somewhere behind him.
“Hey Jack! You’re here!”
He turned – to see Daniel up at one of the bedroom windows.
“Hey Daniel – I am indeed.”
“Coming down.”
And the face was gone – to reappear seconds later at speed in the kitchen.
Jack watched Sarah’s son slow down and come out onto the deck – then stop nervously just a yard away.
In the year he’d been away, Daniel had really grown. He looked like he was easily a foot taller, and his face had started to take the shape of the young man he was going to be.
But for now, for a while longer, he was still a kid – and Jack could see that now he was here he didn’t quite know how to greet his mum’s old friend.
So Jack put his fist out for a bump – just like they used to do a year back – and Daniel gratefully bumped back, then unexpectedly gave him a hug.
“Brilliant, you’re back!” said Daniel.
“Hey, great to see you too,” said Jack, surprised and touched by the unexpected gesture of friendship.
“How’s Riley?” said Daniel.
“Oh, he’s good,” said Jack. “Can’t thank you enough for looking after him.”
“It was brilliant. He sleeps in my room sometimes.” Then he paused: “Slept, I mean.”
Jack could see instantly how Riley had clearly become Daniel’s very own dog.
Must have been tough to watch him just disappear the other day and not come back.
Which made Jack think: Hey, what the hell am I going to do with Riley? Take him back to the States when I go? How will Daniel cope with that?
“He sure does smell sometimes, especially if he’s been for a late walk, huh?” said Jack.
“Tell me about it!” said Daniel, grinning.
Then another awkward pause.
“So – what you up to these days?” said Jack.
He watched Daniel back away shyly and lean against the table, as if he’d surprised himself how chatty he’d just been.
“Oh, you know. This and that. Stuff.”
“Still playing cricket?”
“Not so much. Got a bit bored with it.”
“Don’t blame you,” said Jack. “What kind of game is that anyways? Figure you get more exercise playing golf.”
Daniel laughed.
“You like the new house?” said Jack.
“’s okay. Bit far out of the village.”
“Friends find it a hike, huh? They’ll get used to it.”
“Oh, one great thing – Jack, now we’re on the river, Mum’s going to get me a kayak for my birthday.”
“Mum might get you a kayak for your birthday,” said Sarah.
“I’ll happily help you choose one,” said Jack. “Used to go sea kayaking years back.”
“Jack Brennan is there anything you haven’t done?” said Sarah.
“Done and done badly,” said Jack laughing.
Then another voice from the house.
“Hi, Jack.”
Jack turned to see Chloe standing in the kitchen in jeans and – Jack thought – a somewhat skimpy top, bright-pink hair with bits of ribbon tied in it, and a bag over her shoulder.
“Chloe, how are you?” said Jack. Unlike her brother, Chloe clearly wasn’t going to rush out into the garden to say hi.
“Good thanks, Jack,” said Chloe without moving.
Then she turned to Sarah.
“Heading out now, Mum,” she said. “Hettie’s dad’s picking me up.”
“Okay,” said Sarah. “Where are you off to – anywhere nice?”
Jack saw Chloe roll her eyes.
“Just out. You know?”
“You going to be back tonight?” said Sarah.
“Dunno. Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Well, let me know, one way or the other – okay?” said Sarah, looking concerned. Then she turned to Jack. “Back in a minute – need to sort something.”
Jack watched Sarah go indoors, Chloe following.
He’d noticed the table set only for two – and now he realised: dinner was just going to be for him and Sarah.
And he sensed a chill between mother and daughter. He turned back to Daniel.
“You heading out too, Daniel? Friday night. I guess you got plans?”
“Um, yeah. You know. But maybe see you tomorrow. Oh and enjoy dinner – smells great.”
“No worries, Daniel,” said Jack. “Good to see you again. We’ll find time while I’m back to catch up, huh?”
Daniel nodded, then headed back into the kitchen where Jack could see Sarah and her daughter involved in an intense discussion.
He thought back to his own daughter’s teenage years.
Fraught conversations: Where you going? Who with? What time will you be back? Call me!
Nothing changes, he thought.
It was a shame, though, that the kids were going out. He’d been looking forward to the four of them sitting out here, chatting, reminiscing – easy and relaxed like it had been for years.
But Jack also knew that things change and those precious family dynamics can’t be relied on to stay quite the same forever.
He could see that Sarah was now involved in a discussion with Daniel too: this looked like it was going to take more than a few minutes.
He picked up his martini from the table and strolled down the garden towards the water’s edge to get the lay of the land.
20. A Late Night
“More coffee?” said Sarah. “I can do some.”
“Better not,” said Jack. “Or I’ll never sleep. Terrific meal, Sarah, as ever.”
“First real entertaining I’ve done in the new house,” she said. “Loved it – and a proper oven after all these years. But hey – I haven’t given you the tour!”
“Maybe next time,” he said. “It’s getting late and I’ve got a bit of a walk back to the Goose.”
“Next time, come by boat hmm? Should only take you ten minutes.”
“Drunk in charge, huh?”
She laughed, and watched him sip his single malt.
It had been just so good catching up – so much had gone on in both their lives in the last year. So many stories to tell.
And difficult stuff too. Jack’s daughter’s accident. The rehab.
And she’d talked to him about Chloe, how edgy and difficult her daughter had become. But also about how the web business had really taken off – and how her young assistant Grace had got engaged.
Changes in the village. Old friends.
And then they’d talked about the case. Jack had brought her up to speed on Ray and Terry – and she’d gone through her notes on her chat with Tim up at the Bell.
Looking across at Jack, Sarah realised how much she had missed this kind of time together, the total immersion that came with solving a mystery.
“You happy you changed your mind?” she said.
“’bout what?”
“Doing this – helping me out.”
“That obvious?”
Sarah nodded.
“You’re right – it feels good,” said Jack. “But you know – we need to get a move on. I’m only here a few weeks. And we’ve barely scratched the surface of this.”
“You’re right,” she said. “But I’ve got something to show you – might help. I was enjoying talking so much I almost forgot about it. Come on.”
She got up, waited for him to pick up his whisky, then led him back into the house.
Down the hall, then she opened the door into her study and turned on the light.
“Ta-da!” she said, watching for Jack’s reaction when he followed her.
“Wow,” he said wal
king into the centre of the room. “Very professional.”
“All that time watching crime shows on TV wasn’t wasted.”
***
Jack stepped closer to the whiteboard that covered one whole side of the study.
At the very heart he could see a photo of Josh Owen and a small card with his details.
From that photo spread a spider’s web of black lines leading to places, witnesses, theories, and ideas.
Maddie, Tim, Louise, the Ploughman’s, Cherringham Bridge, weather reports, notes, photos, web links…
And the words: Accident? Mistake? Overdose? Suicide?
“Ever since we started doing this, Jack, I’ve wanted a space where we could really work a case – and here it is. What do you think?”
“I think it’s awesome,” said Jack, now turning to look at the rest of the room and taking in desk, laptop, scanner – and French windows opening out onto the garden too.
“Great place to work.”
“Dad put the shelves up for me,” said Sarah as he walked over to the shelves and ran his hand along the books.
“Criminology text books,” he said.
“Yes, hmm, well. I started an Open University degree – but had to give up.”
“Too busy, huh?”
“Preferred the real thing – so I discovered. Who knows – I may go back to it.”
He walked back to the whiteboard and picked up the marker pen.
“Okay?”
“Please.”
“Stuff from today… ”
He started to add his day’s findings to the whiteboard – Ray, Terry, Gloucester… Then he noticed a bubble that didn’t make sense:
“What’s this?” he said. “Burger van?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you.”
He listened as she told him about Rikky and Ted – and the girls.
“Good place for someone to do a drugs drop, you know,” he said when she’d finished. “Could even do it blind. Stop by for a coffee, put the stash in a pre-arranged spot round the back of the trailer, pick up the cash, move on.”
“You think we should check up on the burger guys?”
“Definitely. I’ll ask around – but we should see what Alan knows about them.”
“But what else, Jack? I feel we’re running out of leads.”
Jack put down the marker.
He suddenly felt impatient with the constraints on the investigation. And he realised that all evening since his visit to Terry, a theory about Josh had been working its way stubbornly to the surface of his mind.
“All right. Not sure about this. But here’s the thing: I know who we should be talking to, but we’re not allowed to, hmm?”
“The kids,” said Sarah.
“Yep. Now, the other night on the boat you told me that Maddie said there were some lads in the pub she was scared of. But just now you said that Tim thought none of the kids that night could have spiked Josh’s drink. So which is it? Someone’s not being honest.”
“Maybe Tim was just protecting his students.”
“Could be. But we have to get an angle on what happened that night – so let’s find those kids and talk to them. With or without the head’s permission.”
“Sounds tricky. Not quite sure how.”
Sarah sounded hesitant, but Jack knew he had to push on with this.
“We’ll figure it – okay? Next – Josh the dealer. We buy that idea?”
“Not really. User, maybe.”
“Agree. So let’s try and close that theory down. You know where he lived?”
She grinned. “I can find out. You know me.”
Jack laughed. “That I do. Let me know as soon as you can and I’ll go take an ‘unofficial’ look around. Tomorrow?”
“I’ll try. You think you can get in without being seen?”
Jack nodded – he knew he could.
“What happened today, Jack? There something you’re not telling me?”
Jack paused.
“The guys that beat up Terry – they didn’t need to do that. Terry’s not a scrapper – he’s a runner. But they beat the shit out of him. Which tells me – something. You get in the way of these guys, they overreact – and they like violence.”
“Go on…”
“Louise James put her staff on the lookout for drugs. So, what if Josh found something the day of the prom? But – for whatever reason – he didn’t tell Louise. And what if the bad guys found out–”
“–and they spiked his drink? To discredit him?”
“Or worse,” said Jack. “To kill him.”
Jack watched Sarah as she thought this through.
“You think Josh Owen was murdered?” she said.
Jack shrugged. “We don’t really know what happened down at the bridge, do we?”
He saw Sarah nod. “Just what Maddie heard… then saw.”
“Anyway,” said Jack, “it’s a theory.”
“And it fits better than the others,” said Sarah.
She took the pen from him and wrote on the whiteboard, adding a single word to the list at the top: Murder.
Then she turned to him.
“I think we’ve got an early start in the morning, Jack. Let’s get that stuff in the dishwasher and then you’d better head home.”
***
Jack turned off Lymore Lane and started walking down Cherringham Bridge Road towards the river, already planning the next day.
Talk to Alan Rivers, check out Josh’s house, sort a new generator for the Goose, take Riley for his annual checkup at the vet…
And maybe a visit to Gloucester.
This time of night there was no traffic on the road, the evening quiet.
Still time for a quick nightcap on the deck, maybe look out for some shooting stars, he thought.
Then…
From the other side of Cherringham, he could hear the dull bass thud of music. He stopped for a moment and scanned the far hills and fields, trying to figure out the exact direction it was coming from.
Same thing had happened the other night, he remembered.
He could just make out some flickers of lights in the sky, and a thin laser-pen beam flashing on a distant cloud way beyond the village.
He turned and headed on, made a mental note to ask Sarah what all these parties were.
And why aren’t we invited, huh?
He laughed to himself and crossed the bridge, the river below him running black in the moonless night.
21. A Noise in the Night
Sarah woke suddenly – a sound from downstairs.
One of those odd noises. The buzz from a refrigerator.
Or if it was winter, the clicking noise from a thermostat, or something blowing against the house from outside.
Normally, she’d just turn over, pull the covers tight and go back to sleep.
But… there!
Again. The noise.
The funny thing about sounds. One odd noise you can ignore. Maybe two… three.
But in sequence?
A series of noises?
And still lying there, she went through the possibilities.
This house… she hadn’t been here that long. Places have their sounds, their creaks.
Of course they do.
And it could be – after all, she was a good way out of the village, real countryside here – maybe a little creature, a mouse.
She’d seen mice in the garden.
And all those thoughts were tinged with another fact that hadn’t occurred to her when she turned off the lights and went to sleep.
In this new place, all by itself, down by the river… she was completely alone.
The nice, roomy house – maybe too roomy for one person.
And then – when she heard another noise, her head raised slightly off the pillow as if that could make hearing any better – she realised she would have to get up.
Out of bed.
Turn a light on.
And go downstairs.
&n
bsp; ***
First her bedroom light, then she found the hall light that lit the stairs halfway down.
The evening wasn’t cold but a slight summer chill had settled in, making the wood cool on her bare feet.
She was aware she was now making noises, walking to the stairs.
She also thought: Could it be one of the kids?
Daniel had said he was going to stay at his pal Jacob’s house. And these days, it seemed like Chloe always stayed with friends in the village every Friday night.
So… no.
Doubtful it was the kids.
Still, halfway down the stairs – and wondering, in this still new-to-her house, about where the light switch was – she called out.
“Daniel?”
Another few steps.
“Chloe? You home, love?”
Almost at the bottom – and with no answer – the word “love” seemed absurd.
But she also noted that since she had started down, she hadn’t heard any more sounds.
And then she did what she knew probably everyone did in such situations.
She started thinking: It was probably nothing. Just nerves.
She reached the bottom of the stairs – the ground floor, dark. She hunted for the light switch.
***
One switch lit the living room, and she immediately thought that the room really could use a few more lights.
Cosy in the evening, now the light from a single standing lamp seemed yellow, feeble.
The hall light had lit up the porch by the front door. (Which – she checked – was locked tight.) But it was dark leading to the back of the house, to her big new kitchen, her office with its whiteboard, the French doors leading to the back garden.
Which she now realised was cut off from anyone’s sight, girded by trees and bushes.
She saw a milky light back there. An eerie light.
The moon.
There had to be another light switch here in the hall – but where?
She called out again, just to avoid that startling – then giggly – moment should one of the kids really have come back and be grabbing something out of the refrigerator.
“Daniel? Chloe?”
Completely quiet.
And Sarah resigned herself to the fact that whatever made the noise – probably something outside – was just a branch rustling… was some small animal…
Dead in the Water Page 10
