by Ruby Loren
“You’ve got a deal. I leave you alone and you leave me out of the book,” I said.
“Absolutely,” Tom assured me.
I turned on my heel and walked back to my car, getting in and driving away from the unhappiest hamlet I'd ever encountered.
I didn’t believe for a second that he would keep me out of the book. But then, I had my own agenda.
As I drove across the little stretch of Cornish countryside that bridged the gap between Pendalay and the hamlet, I wondered how much Tom knew about what was happening to Zara. He'd done his research into what had happened before, but he'd also positioned himself close enough to catch the action firsthand. How much had he seen? I was willing to bet it was more than he’d admitted to his boss.
“Let’s see if we can't change that,” I muttered before pulling into a space next to an estate car, covered in police branding.
I walked into the police station and asked to speak to Detective Maynard.
“Yes?” the detective said when she strode around the corner.
“There's something you should know about your officer Tom…” I said and filled her in.
It didn't take long for her expression to turn dark. When I was finished, she didn’t say a word for a few moments.
“What did he threaten you with?” were the first words out of her mouth.
“Nothing too bad. I told you he’s writing this book. He thinks I’m a fraud, but if I keep quiet, then he won’t include me in the novel.” I raised an eyebrow at the detective.
“You decided to tell us anyway,” she observed.
“I’m not a fraud.”
For the briefest of seconds, I thought respect flashed across the detective's face.
“Come and talk to me. We’ll figure something out.”
She brought us both a coffee and we sat in her office.
“I’m afraid it’s not illegal what he’s doing. I can't actually stop him from writing whatever he wants about you. If you can prove he’s lying, you could sue him for slander… or libel…” She frowned. “…I forget which one. That’s why I’m law enforcement, not law.”
“I’m not too worried about it. If he does his research properly, he’ll write something accurate,” I said, unwilling to make assumptions beyond that.
The detective nodded. “Don’t think that just because I can't arrest him, I’m not going to give him a hard time. He's knowingly deceived us and if he’s withheld evidence, I will get him for it. He’s not going to have a fun day at work tomorrow.”
I knew she wasn’t kidding. “How’s the case going?” I casually asked and received a stern look for my trouble. “Hey, you might have wanted an outsider’s opinion,” I said, not too seriously.
I finished my coffee and stood up. The detective walked with me to the door.
“There is something you could answer,” Maynard said, right before I walked back out into the car park. “Do you think Zara could have done it? Do you think she could have murdered that woman and then somehow… somehow managed to get her up on that board and then knocked out Lyra?”
I’d spent a good deal of time considering the same thing, but that didn’t mean I had the right answer. “I don’t know Zara that well, but I don’t think she has it in her to kill anyone. She lacks…” I pulled a face.
“…Backbone?” Maynard suggested and I nodded.
Zara was the average woman and she was doing everything she could to be even more average. While I could see she was good at her job, I didn't sense any real drive of ambition within her. I thought she’d got to the stage of business she was at by working hard, rather than cutting and thrusting. I didn’t think she’d had it easy, but she hadn't made her way by being ruthless.
I thought that lack of spirit was probably the real reason why the jewellery thing had been such a big flop. There weren't such strict rules and there was so much competition. PR was a more open field and there were tried and tested methods. All you had to do was hit a few training courses and stay up to date with the latest marketing trends.
At least, that was my personal opinion. I was sure Zara would have a thing or two to say about it.
“I don’t know if it helps, but I have actually read a couple of Tom’s pieces before. He gets really into whatever it is he’s focusing on. I mean, he's actually living next door to Zara and Darren. I’m willing to bet he’s probably been paying as much attention to them as a stalker would. Perhaps…”
Maynard nodded, understanding what I didn’t want to say. Tom could be another candidate for the one behind it. He moved up and down the country following his stories… what if his passion for his current story had started a long time before he came to Pendalay?
On the other hand, what if he’d been watching closely enough to see the identity of the stalker?
I asked myself if he was more of a cop or a writer. Would he let the situation play out, or would he report it?
I didn’t like the answer I came up with.
Lowell was pacing around the kitchen when I came home that evening. He looked up when I walked in.
“Where have you been? I thought something had happened. I was just about to call the police,” he said.
“Did you think about maybe calling me first?" I asked.
He threw me a withering look and I pulled out my phone to find it had no battery.
“Sorry?" I said, wincing. "Why did you assume something happened?”
“I didn't assume. Someone called me to say I needed to find you because you’re in grave danger at the location you’re in. They hung up before I could get any more out of them. And no, I couldn't trace their number.”
“Why would someone do that?” I said, pushing my orange-rimmed glasses higher up my nose while I thought about it. “All I've done today is go to work and then I went round to see that police officer, Tom.”
“Why’d you go and see him?” Lowell didn’t sound happy.
“It’s a funny story actually…” I said without a trace of humour and launched into how I’d recognised him from somewhere but had only realised who he was when I’d seen the pile of magazines in the staffroom again. By the time I finished my tale with how I'd gone to the police station and told them the truth about Tom Riley, Lowell looked close to violence.
“I think I need to have a word with him,” he said.
“Detective Maynard said it isn’t illegal to do what he’s doing. Anyway, if he does his research, he’ll realise I’m not faking all of this stuff." I sighed. “It is too bad he’s investigating this particular job. Pendalay is no quick fix. This one will take a while. I’ll probably have to do what I can and then check back in several months’ time to see if any further changes need to be made," I said, getting sidetracked.
Lowell shook his head. “I know Maynard doesn’t think it's illegal, but that doesn’t mean this guy can carry on without a care in the world. Someone thought he was dangerous. I’m going round there to have a chat, one on one.”
“I’m not letting you go on your own,” I said, firmly. There was a time when I’d trusted Lowell to use restraint, but there was something in his eyes that I didn’t like. He was taking what Tom was doing far more seriously than I'd ever anticipated.
“Are you worried he’s going to write something about you?” I asked. I’d told Lowell that Tom was well aware he worked as a private detective.
Lowell looked surprised. “No, this is just because you don't deserve this to happen. Shall we go?” He added before I could process exactly how I felt about this new protective streak of his.
I told Lucky to be good and shut him in the kitchen. Five minutes later, we were pulling up in the lane next to the hamlet.
Rain had started to fall when I got out of the car. I hugged my arms around my ribs and silently wished that Lowell could have saved the chivalry for another day.
My private detective boyfriend led the way, striding down the slick road whilst I trailed along behind him, dancing around to avoid the puddles in the pot-
holed road.
Lowell had already rung the doorbell by the time I joined him on the step.
“The lights are on, so he must be in. Why isn't he answering?” Lowell observed.
“Perhaps Maynard already spoke to him and he’s laying low. His colleagues probably won’t be too impressed when they learn they might wind up in a true crime novel. It’s not fun to think someone is making their mind up about you and getting ready to share it with thousands of other people, who are going to take their word as gospel,” I said and realised I wasn’t as okay about all this as I’d thought.
It was at that moment we both heard someone shouting for help. Lowell darted across to the side gate but it was locked.
“We have to go round the other side!” I said, leading the way around the properties, which backed on to fields. The gardens were separated from the meadow only by a waist-high stone wall.
It was by the wall that we found Darren Banks standing over Tom Riley’s body.
I was about to step forwards to check if he was definitely dead when Lowell stuck an arm out in front of me.
“What happened?”
While I didn’t miss the suspicion in his voice, Darren was apparently oblivious.
“I went out to the shed to put some junk wood away from a shelf I was putting up, and I saw something on the ground through the gate there.” He nodded his head towards the curling wrought iron that gave access to the Banks’ garden from the field. “I came out and found it was Tom. That’s when I started yelling. I thought maybe someone would come and help save him but I think he’s long gone.”
“You’d better call the police,” I said to Lowell, remembering that my own phone had run out of battery.
Lowell seemed a little happier now that Darren had given us an explanation. Plus, there was a heck of a lot of blood on the body and none that I could see on him. I bent down to take a closer look while Lowell dialled.
“I don't know what happened to him. It looks bad, doesn’t it?” Darren said, looking down at the body too.
I nodded, my eyes drawn to the deep gash in his neck. Something glittered in the moonlight and I didn’t think it was just blood. It looked like someone had taken some cheese wire and nearly decapitated the cop, leaving the wire behind. I could even see two wooden handles on either end.
"Maybe it got stuck," I muttered and then felt ill. This was a real person who’d just died in a horrible way. No matter what he’d been planning to do to my reputation, he didn’t deserve this.
“Where's Zara?” I asked Darren.
“Inside having a shower, thank God. I don’t want her to have to see all of this.”
I nodded in response, silently thinking that taking a shower would be a pretty good way to wash bloodstains off your hands.
It wasn’t long before the police arrived and we were moved further away from the body so the evidence could be bagged up. Tom’s backdoor was open and Detective Maynard led us inside the dead man's house.
She did not look happy to be seeing me for the second time in one day.
“Do not touch anything!” she started and then turned her attention to me. Why are you here?”
“I told Lowell about Tom's alter ego and he wanted to talk to him himself, just to get the facts straight.” I’d done my best to play down anything that could be interpreted badly, but it was pretty difficult to make a trip to see an undercover journalist who’d threatened to destroy my career seem innocent, now the man had turned up dead.
“He was already dead when we arrived. Darren, tell them,” I said, hoping he'd get us out of this hole.
“I’d just popped down the garden to visit my shed with some bits of scrap wood when I happened to look through the gate and saw someone on the ground. I shouted for help and these folks came running. I couldn't say anymore than that,” Darren said with an apologetic smile.
I mentally scrubbed Darren off my Christmas card list. There was such a thing as too much honesty. Couldn’t he have at least vouched for Lowell’s and my good character?
"What's happening? There are police everywhere and they told me to come in here…”
We all turned to see Zara stood in the doorway. She was dressed in a dressing gown, flung on over some pyjamas, and her hair was still wrapped in a towel.
“Where were you when your husband found the body?” Maynard asked, zeroing in on the new candidate for murder.
Zara's mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “There’s a body? I saw the police all gathered round something but I never thought…” She blinked and looked around at her surroundings. “Was it... Tom?”
"How well did you know Tom Riley?” Maynard asked, ignoring Zara’s question.
“He arrived around the same time we did. We'd say hello if we saw each other around but that was it. I thought it was comforting having a police officer living so near by, given what’s been happening…” She broke off with a sob.
“Were you aware that Tom Riley is an undercover reporter writing under the name of Andy Shaw? I also have reason to believe he might have been investigating your company,” the detective continued.
Zara let out a horrified gasp and Darren wrapped a protective arm across her shoulders. “Look, could you ask your questions later? We had no idea Tom wasn’t who he claimed to be. This is just one more thing in a whole string of terrible events. My wife shouldn’t have to stand here and be accused! It’s obvious that this is the same guy who killed Jayne and has done all of the other stuff too. He wants us to know he’s getting closer and to feel scared.” He looked directly at Maynard. “Don’t abandon us the way you did before."
I knew he was referring to the police in general, who’d failed to catch the person obsessed with Zara. I wondered what Detective Toyne would have to say if he was in here listening to Darren speak instead of being out in the rain with a garrotted body.
I didn’t think it would be anything polite.
“Just one more thing… do any of you recognise this?” Maynard pulled out a bag containing the bloodstained cheese wire with the pale wooden handles.
We all shook our heads.
Darren and Zara were permitted to leave with strict instructions to stay in their house until they were contacted to arrange official statements. Maynard escorted them from the house and told us to stay put.
As soon as she’d gone, I turned to Lowell. He motioned for me to stay quiet for a moment while he checked that she’d really gone.
“What are you thinking?” he said.
“That it's damn lucky I decided to come with you to see Tom! If you'd come alone, it would just be your word that you didn’t take Tom out the back and do him in.”
Lowell looked offended. “With cheese wire? That’s not my style.”
I shot him a warning look, reminding him that he shouldn’t have a ‘style’ at all.
“You know that call you got, warning you about the danger I was in? I think someone wanted you to come over here and find the body. They probably wanted you riled up too.”
We looked around the tidy little house that bore no signs of violence.
“Do you think me being here will be enough to stop them from jumping to the wrong conclusion?” I said, walking over to a desk that was covered in note paper.
I shut my eyes, knowing Lowell would pick up on my genuine worry.
“Did someone tell you I was a suspect? Before tonight?” he asked.
“Not exactly. Detective Maynard was speculating that you travel around a lot.”
“So do you,” he pointed out.
“Sure, but when it comes to staking a woman taller than I am to a cork board, I don't think I'm suspect number one. No one ever thinks I can do it,” I said, half-miffed.
“There, there,” Lowell said, but I was staring at the notes on the desk.
I could see right away that Tom hadn’t just been investigating the PR company. His police instincts had piqued his interest enough for him to do a little investigating himself. I could already see
a few notes he’d made about the comings and goings of Zara and Darren Banks. I wondered if he’d discovered the identity of the stalker before he’d died.
I wondered if it was that knowledge which had got him killed.
Quite a few people had stood to gain from Tom Riley’s untimely death. I wasn’t going to pretend that I wasn’t one of them.
9
Halloween Horror
I’d been keeping my head down working all week long, so it was almost a surprise when I realised it was Halloween. The PR team were finally having their chance to shine and all eyes would be on them at the big finish tonight. I only hoped that Zara's personal problems wouldn’t derail the zoo’s recovery if anything happened.
“Please let everything go okay,” I said, standing in front of the orangutans to watch them before the zoo officially opened for the day of events.
“I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that too. Well… all the fingers I have left!”
I turned just in time for Lyra to wave a hand covered in garish fake blood in my face.
“Who decided on zombies as a theme?” I asked, observing her ragged attire and multiple latex wounds.
“It was Adrian’s idea. He thought it symbolised the zoo rising from the dead, just like zombies do!” Lyra shot a sideways look at me. “I think Zara okayed it because the costumes were cheap.”
“I guess I'd expected you to all be Halloween animals," I confessed.
Lyra shrugged. “We think of the zoo as more of a backdrop to a really cool event. We’ve hyped up Halloween at Pendalay Zoo, which will bring in the visitors. They’ll have a great time, and with a bit of luck, they’ll also notice all of the great work you’ve done. Things are going well, right?” There was a slight quaver to her voice that I didn’t miss.
Fortunately, something had happened today that meant I no longer minded the misgivings. Jules had sent me over all of the photos of the animals that had been taken right after the Johnsons had bought the zoo. The zoo owners had finally agreed with my idea on how to change people's perceptions of the zoo. I knew that the animals here didn’t look like the pictures of health you expected when you paid to walk round a family friendly zoo, but they did look like survivors on the road to recovery.
