by Agatha Frost
“You haven’t heard from her either?” Julia offered a sympathetic smile when she noticed bags similar to her own under Violet’s sparkling blue eyes. “I was hoping she would be here.”
“She is not.” Violet glanced up and down the street as she tucked her long, silver hair behind her ears. Despite her tired eyes, Violet was still as strikingly beautiful as ever. With her pearlescent skin and elongated, svelte figure, Julia had always suspected Violet had been a runway model in a previous life. “Would you like to come in? The place is a little bit of a mess, but you know what Roxy is like.”
“We don’t want to impose.” Julia shook her head, sensing Violet’s invitation had been out of politeness. “From the way you shot down those stairs, I’m going to assume you don’t know Roxy’s current whereabouts?”
“I do not.” Violet exhaled, wrapping her arms around herself as though she was cold. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday evening. She said she was going to confront Leah and she hasn’t been back since. I told her it was a terrible idea, but when Roxy gets something in her head, there is nothing that can stop her. I am—” Violet’s voice broke off, her steely expression faltering. She swallowed hard and stiffened her spine as though emotion was forbidden in such a situation. “I am very worried about her. She won’t answer her phone. I have left many messages, but she hasn’t called me back.”
“I know that feeling.” Julia checked her phone, but the only notification was another prompt to perform the system update she had been ignoring for the best part of two weeks. “Have you heard about Leah?”
“I have heard lots of things about that woman.” Violet’s emphasis on ‘that’ made Julia think Violet was about to spit again. “She is bad news.”
“Have you heard that she has gone missing?”
“Missing?” Violet’s brow crinkled. “Like a lost dog?”
Barker and Julia glanced at each other.
“It’s a little more serious than that,” Barker said, his tone carrying more authority than his retired status should have allowed. “We have reason to believe something has happened to Leah.”
“Something?”
“Something bad,” Julia said, the words almost jamming in her throat. “We found blood in her cottage.”
“Oh.” Violet’s brow crinkled further, her arms curling more tightly around herself. “And you think Roxy had something to do with this?” Anyone who didn’t know Violet might have thought her matter-of-fact tone was cold, but Julia knew better.
“We only want to talk to her,” Barker said.
“I understand.” Violet took a step back into the stairway, the bulb above the door casting a dark shadow across her hollow features. “I’m sorry. I cannot help you. Goodbye.”
Before Julia could ask Violet what she knew about the friction between Roxy and Leah, the Russian beauty slammed the door. The lock clicked back into place, as did the chain. Julia considered knocking again, but she doubted Violet would grace them with a second appearance.
“Where to next?” Barker asked, rubbing his hands together as he looked up and down Mulberry Lane.
They walked to Roxy’s mother’s home, on the outskirts of the village. Unlike most people in Peridale, Imogen Carter didn’t live in a cottage. Her 1930s art deco house was fronted with more angular windows than seemed possible, giving it an alien quality. It sat between two ordinary, centuries-old cottages, looking as out of place as a lemon in a bowl of tomatoes. In her youth, Julia had spent a lot of time in the Carter home, along with Johnny, Roxy, and Leah. Imogen had always been so warm and inviting to her daughter’s school friends, so it was where they had naturally ended up on their weekends.
Imogen, who had become somewhat of a recluse since her eldest daughter, Rachel, was convicted of a double murder over a year ago, answered the door with eyes that clearly indicated she rarely saw natural daylight. The warm and bubbly personality Julia remembered had been replaced with a skittish shell of a woman.
“Roxy?” Imogen shook her head after they asked her the same question they had asked Violet. “Haven’t seen her in days. Has something happened?”
Not wanting to unload even more chaos on Imogen, Julia and Barker left without filling her in on the details. On their walk back through the village, they dropped into the B&B, but Evelyn hadn’t seen Roxy either, nor had Shirley at The Plough. Feeling defeated, they retreated to the café, which was as empty as Julia had left it.
“No luck?” Katie asked as she sipped a cappuccino, foam on her top lip.
“None.” Julia grabbed her apron from the hook in the kitchen. “I’m beginning to think she’s performed another disappearing act like she did when her sister decided to go on that killing spree.”
“Didn’t you suspect Roxy then, too?” Katie crinkled her nose. “Statistically, it means she definitely did it this time. You can’t be suspected of murder twice and not have killed someone at least one of those times.”
“It’s still a missing person case,” Barker reminded Katie with a stern look. “Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves.”
Despite Katie’s innocence, her theory was logical. Roxy had been Julia’s prime suspect when Gertrude Smith and her son, William, had been murdered. Gertrude had been blackmailing Roxy, threatening to out her relationship with Violet, who was Roxy’s teaching assistant at the time. Scared of ruining Violet’s life and career, Roxy had fled the village on the day of Gertrude’s murder. Even though her timing had been exceptionally bad, Roxy had returned to the village the second she heard about the murder. Julia had felt like a fool for thinking her best friend could murder two people in cold blood, and she had vowed never to be so stupid again. She pulled the hair out of her pocket, wondering if she was re-treading that familiar path, but something felt different this time.
Julia was ripped from her memories when Barker’s phone started ringing, but she didn’t linger to see who was calling. As she gazed out her café window, Johnny ran past, crouched over as though chasing something. Not wanting to miss her opportunity to catch him, she darted for the door with her untied apron hanging around her neck.
“Johnny Watson!” Julia planted her hands on her hips. He bent down to pick up what appeared to be a can of soup. “Is your phone broken?”
“Julia. I—”
“Are you about to lie to me, Johnny?” Julia interrupted. “Your ears are turning bright red.”
Johnny grazed his right ear with his free hand as he peered down at the soup label.
“This was the last can. Shilpa said someone came in and cleared her of all her chicken soup last night.” He walked past Julia and picked up a plastic bag, which had a hole in the bottom. “I think she has started using cheaper bags.” Johnny laughed awkwardly as he knotted the bottom of the bag. “She still had the nerve to charge me for it.”
“Johnny…”
“I’m sorry.” He fiddled with his glasses, his eyes fixed on the cobbled road. “I didn’t know what to say to you. Seeing Leah brought up so much. I didn’t want to relive the past.”
“Have you heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Leah is missing.”
Johnny’s brows tensed, as he met Julia’s gaze. As he fiddled with his glasses, the redness spread down his ears and to his neck.
“Oh.” Johnny replied, not sounding shocked. “Since when?”
“Since last night.”
Johnny rubbed his neck, looking up at the sky as though waiting for a house to drop on him. Julia folded her arms and stared, waiting for him to speak.
“I should really go.” Johnny hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “I have things to do.”
Julia grabbed Johnny’s collar with both hands, yanking him towards her. She stared deep into his eyes, their noses almost touching.
“Listen to me, Johnny Watson.” She tightened her grip. “I haven’t slept, my head is banging, and it’s hotter than the surface of the sun. Leah is missing, I can’t find Roxy, and I still have no idea what is going on
. I’ve known you since the first day of nursery. Far too long for you to be playing games with me. Tell me what happened twenty years ago. I need to know.”
Johnny gulped as sweat dripped down his face. One drop rolled off the tip of his nose. If Julia were in her right mind, she would never have been so forceful with her old friend, but her right mind was nowhere to be found. He glanced at the group on the village green, eyes begging for help. Julia could sense them all watching, but she didn’t break her stare.
“Leah ran off with my sister’s fiancé on their wedding day,” he finally spat out, words jumbling together. “She ruined my family’s life.”
Julia let go, startled that she hadn’t known the jilted bride was Johnny’s sister. She wracked her brain for Johnny’s sister’s name. “Heidi? I haven’t seen her in years.”
“She was hardly going to stick around here after being embarrassed like that, was she?” Johnny straightened his collar before wiping the sweat from his blotchy face. “She’s my half-sister on my dad’s side. We’re not that close. She lives over in Riverswick, and her life hasn’t been the same since Leah ruined it. Are you surprised I wasn’t happy to see her?”
“I had no idea.”
“I didn’t tell anyone when it happened.” Johnny leaned in and lowered his voice. “I didn’t want to make things worse for my sister. People still heard rumours, but we did everything we could to protect Heidi.”
“What does this have to do with Roxy?”
“Nothing.” Johnny looked perplexed. “Her problem with Leah has nothing to do with my sister. Look. I really do need to go. I have a meeting with my editor. I have a feeling he’s about to tell me they’re making even more cuts to the newspaper.” He paused and fiddled with his glasses. “If you ask me, you should just leave this alone. Anything connected to Leah is going to mess with your life, okay? I had nothing to do with it.”
“I never said you did.”
With that, Johnny left, leaving Julia confused as to why he would think she would consider him a suspect. The idea hadn’t occurred before, but it certainly took pride of place in her thoughts now.
“Julia?” Barker appeared behind her in the café doorway. “Is everything okay?”
“The man Leah ran off with was Johnny’s sister’s fiancé.” Julia looked at the staring faces on the green, embarrassed at the show she had put on. “That’s one piece of the puzzle.”
“It’s a start.” Barker tapped his phone against the palm of his hand. “That was DI Christie. They’ve found something.”
Julia’s heart dropped to the floor as the pounding in her head increased tenfold. Much as she wanted to ask what they had found, the words wouldn’t come.
“It’s not a body,” he assured her at once, reaching for her hand. “They’ve found a bag of clothes dumped out in the field behind Leah’s cottage. Do you have any idea what Leah was wearing yesterday?”
“A yellow blouse and jeans.”
Barker nodded, the lack of surprise in his expression telling her he’d already known.
“They’re running them through forensics to be sure.” Barker ran his hand over his stubble. “There’s one more thing. They were covered in blood.”
“How much blood?”
“A lot.”
Julia nodded, the news somehow unsurprising. Exhausted and confused, Julia walked into her café and headed into the kitchen with hopes that baking something would help clear her mind.
Chapter Seven
After almost burning down the kitchen while attempting to bake a chocolate cake, Katie insisted Julia go home. Julia resisted, but she knew she was in no fit state to serve her regulars.
Driving home, Julia slowly passed the circus surrounding Leah’s cottage. DI Christie stood at the edge of the garden, watching the forensic team work. From the stubble on his jaw and the wrinkles in his suit, he looked like he had slept as much as Julia had.
Despite her drained state, Julia found herself hesitant to sleep. The details of the disappearance were swirling in her mind and she was sure they wouldn’t leave her alone. She pulled out her notepad and sat in the armchair by the window. She only managed to write ‘Leah stole Heidi’s fiancé’ before sleep claimed her.
She jolted awake hours later, just as the sun was giving out its last rays for the day. Rubbing her eyes, she looked down at the notepad in her lap. For a moment, her foggy mind allowed her to forget the chaos of the last few days, and she wondered what she was looking at. A quick glance at the white tent surrounding the cottage across the road jogged her memory.
After a hot shower and a cup of peppermint and liquorice tea, Julia knocked on the dining room door before entering. Barker was at his usual spot at the head of the table, his eyes and fingers glued to his laptop. Julia turned on the ceiling light as dusk claimed the room. A mess of papers covered the table. She had grown so used to Barker’s novel writing burying the surface that it took her a moment to realise they were not his writing notes. Neat stacks of ‘MISSING PERSON’ posters filled the table, each with a colour photograph of Leah centred in the middle.
“What’s all this?” Julia picked up one of the sheets. “Did Christie drop these off?”
“I made them.” Barker nodded at the printer in the corner. “Had to run out to buy more ink halfway through. Found the picture on one of her online profiles. What do you think?”
Julia stared down at the smiling picture of Leah. The photo had been taken on a sunny day, and from her pretty cream dress and glass of champagne in her hand, she looked like she was at a wedding.
“What are we going to do with them?”
“Post them all over the village.” Barker finished typing his sentence, punctuating it with one final stab before slapping the computer shut. “I’ve done the rounds on social media, too. If someone has seen Leah, we’re going to hear about it. I’ve put my number on the poster.”
Julia smiled her appreciation of Barker’s willingness to be proactive. She wanted to feel as optimistic as he did, but she couldn’t summon the energy.
“What if it’s all too little too late?” She placed the poster back on its pile. “The struggle, the blood, the clothes—you know it’s all pointing to one thing.”
Barker drained the last of his coffee before standing and pushing the chair under the table; she wondered how much caffeine he had consumed during his printing session.
“That’s the obvious explanation.” Barker picked up a shoulder bag and began stuffing it with posters. “But this isn’t like anything I’ve seen before. If someone is going to spontaneously commit murder, why go to the trouble of moving the body? You’re only making things harder for yourself by creating a path of evidence. That the forensic team are still combing over the cottage tells me they have yet to find anything substantial. If Leah had been murdered there, they’d know by now. We’re not going to give up hope. Until we know for certain, we have to distribute these posters far and wide. The more eyes see these, the more likely we’re going to get a phone call. Someone might have seen something without realising how important it was.” Barker picked up a second empty bag and passed it to Julia. “Are you in?”
Julia didn’t even have to think about it. She took the bag and filled it with the rest of the posters. Barker’s enthusiasm was all she needed to shake her from the dark pit her mind had fallen into.
“Hope,” Julia said as she slung the heavy bag over her shoulder. “If that’s all I have to cling to, then I’m going to cling.”
They headed out into the night with the posters, a stapler, and a roll of tape. They attacked every lamppost and flat surface they could find, wrapping the entire village like a Christmas present. Shilpa put one in the post office window, Evelyn took several to scatter around her B&B, Shirley let them put one on each table in The Plough, and all the shops still open on Mulberry Lane took one to hang up; they avoided Brooke’s Bridal Boutique.
Julia and Barker split up when they reached the village green. Julia decided she was going
to drop some in at the village hall, and Barker walked back to his car to cover the villages surrounding Peridale. The village hall was in the middle of a slimming club meeting, so she snuck in and pinned a couple to the notice board before taping others in the windows of the door. She then moved onto St. Peter’s Church, encouraged by the lights shining through the stained-glass windows. Pulling open the heavy doors, Julia examined a table in the vestibule. It was covered with leaflets advertising the church’s services and events. She rearranged them, making room for a small pile of posters.
“Hello?” Father David appeared in the doorway, a pile of tattered Bibles in his arms. “Oh, Julia! What a lovely surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Julia held out one of the posters. Father David carefully placed his burden of books on the table before looking over the sheet. He sighed as he peered over his glasses to read the details.
“What a terrible shame,” he said solemnly, shaking his head and handing Julia the poster. “Please, leave as many as you can. I’ll pass them around the congregation on Sunday. Is Leah a local woman? I’m afraid I don’t recognise her.”
“She used to be. Emily Burns was her mother.”
“Of course.” He snapped his fingers together. “Leah Burns. Forgive me for my slowness. I didn’t quite recognise her. It must have been years since I last saw her. I had no idea she had returned to the village.”
“Not many did.” Julia paused, a question suddenly burning in her mind. “Can I ask you something, Father?”
“Always.”
Father David motioned to two chairs pushed up against the wall underneath a notice board. Julia had known the ageing vicar for all her life. He had always been a comforting ray of light in the village. She didn’t know anyone who had a bad word to say about him.
“I’m not a particularly religious woman,” she started, her tone apologetic. “I wouldn’t say I was an atheist, I’m just not sure what I believe, so I apologise if I’m crossing the line asking for your advice, or, rather, God’s advice.”
