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Authors: Stella Cameron

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BOOK: Folly
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They both burst out laughing. Tony fell back in his seat, shaking his head from side to side.

Alex took a deep breath to control the giggles and said, ‘The police wanted to know if I'd seen anything unusual lying around. When I asked if they meant a weapon, they didn't sneer at me so I give them kudos for that. They did remind me they already have the weapon. They didn't give me any hints about what they were looking for. Did they ask you?'

Tony got up, went to his coat and worked a big paper bag out of the back game pocket. He opened it and offered her a rather mangled roll of some kind. ‘They're cheese and tomato,' he said. ‘Not so fresh any more but they'd fill a hole.'

Rather than be rude, she eased one out and watched Tony take the other. ‘Didn't have time for lunch,' he said. ‘I'm starving.'

‘Me, too.'

They munched and amazingly the dogs didn't beg.

More silence.

‘Did they ask you if you'd seen anything in particular that you remembered?' Alex said around a piece of cheese.

He nodded and his eyes slid away. Gradually he looked distant, deep in thought.

‘What?' Alex said.

He chewed his way through a mouthful of roll, swallowed and chased the food with Scotch. ‘I don't think I should say.'

‘Tell me.'

‘I think it's going to be hard to get to the bottom of a murder in a place like this. Think about it. It's remote but everyone knows everyone else. Have you heard anyone say they saw anything? Anything at all?'

Alex scooted forward. ‘If we call, will the police tell us if they have any suspects, anyone helping them with their enquiries, as they say? We could pretend to be the press.'

His expressive brows went up again. ‘I don't think that's a good idea. It was the asking about anything we might have found that got me thinking. Are they wondering about a serial killer? Have there already been more deaths? Do they already know there's something missing from the victim? Maybe they're wondering about trophies, you know, what serial killers …'

‘I know how they collect things from their victims,' Alex said quickly. She glanced at the windows and was glad she had drawn the drapes. She felt safer when she was closed in. ‘What a horrible thought. A sickening thought. Everyone around here should be very careful.'

‘But the police didn't warn anyone about that, did they?' Tony asked. ‘Surely they would have if that's what they were worried about.'

She nodded, yes, and felt a little comforted. ‘They always try not to panic people, though, don't they?' The butterflies in her stomach took off again.

Frowning, Tony bounced the knuckles of one hand against his teeth.

‘Don't they do that?' Alex pressed. ‘Say if people should be really careful?'

‘I don't know. Maybe they assume everyone knows to be cautious. Gave me a shock when I saw he was some sort of religious.'

Alex stared at him.

When he looked at her, he frowned. ‘You realized that?' She got a very navy blue stare.

‘No. I was pretty shocked and disoriented. A priest?'

‘Monk, more likely. With an old tweed coat over his habit.'

She recalled the brown fabric around his neck. ‘Then they can find out who he is,' Alex said, suddenly excited. ‘His order will know he's missing. And can't they identify the habit?'

‘We'll see. The police seemed as surprised as I was. He had on sandals and thin socks, poor bloke. His feet must have been frozen.'

‘All of him was frozen,' Alex said, not quite under her breath. ‘This only gets worse. If they don't get a break quickly they often never do, isn't that what they say?'

‘I don't think you can make generalizations like that,' Tony said.

‘You didn't go for your walk with Katie this morning,' she said, without thinking how it might sound. ‘I mean, I didn't see you this morning.'

‘We went really early. I had a busy day planned.'

His expression changed subtly and she could tell he was thinking she had wondered about him, about whether he could have been in the woods before she got there.

‘I didn't stab a man with a dart,' he said quietly.

Alex was in full, pulsing blush mode when the doorbell rang. She jumped up, still holding Bogie. ‘Who could that be?' she whispered. ‘At this time of night?'

FIVE

T
he bell rang for a second time and Tony waited for Alex to react.

Rooted. That was the best description. She didn't seem able to move her feet.

‘I didn't see the lights come on,' Tony said after the bell rang again. ‘Your curtains are heavy. Let me get the door.' He didn't mention that his Rover was in front and there were lights on in the house so there was no point in pretending not to be at home.

‘No. I should. But thanks.' She glanced around. ‘Stay in here.'

The stunned expression on her face was probably because she had just accused him of murder. More or less. And now she was asking him to hide himself. Their eyes met. She feared gossip about the two of them. Her widened eyes reflected her embarrassment.

‘I'll go,' she said rapidly. ‘You're a really decent man, Tony. You're trying to be a friend to me and – and I don't know how to react to that any more.'

Her footsteps rushed along the hall toward the front of the house.

Quickly, Tony reached for his coat and tipped it behind a couch. Then he sat back in his chair, legs crossed, the hand holding a glass of Scotch resting on his knee.

He'd make a picture of a man comfortable in his surroundings – and familiar with them.

The Devil made me do it.

Sometimes a fellow wasn't flattered by being called a really decent man. Like,
not a bad cut of meat,
or,
passable merlot but not memorable.

Geez, he should pick up that coat and look as if he was leaving.

Voices came from the area of the front door and he stayed where he was, listening.

‘Heather and Leonard Derwinter,' a familiar voice – Leonard's – said.

‘Of course,' Alex said, very formal and more than a bit surprised. ‘Are you having car problems?'

She must have seen the Derwinters, self-acclaimed lords of the manor and owners of a good part of the village in fact, many times. They turned up at the Black Dog, usually late in the evening and usually with several of their arrogant lot, but of course, Alex was the daughter of a former barmaid there. Tony doubted they even knew she owned the business now.

‘We feel so guilty.' Heather's well-modulated tones were quite clear. ‘It shouldn't take something so horrible to remind us that you're a neighbor … and alone, for goodness' sake. We don't want to intrude but we do want you to understand that we are here for you. Say the word, and whatever you need …' She let the sentence trail off.

‘How kind,' Alex said.

Tony spent many hours at the Derwinter estate. He'd started taking care of the livestock there when the old man was still alive and the son had continued using Tony after Cornelius Derwinter died.

‘We really do want to know you better,' Heather said. ‘Don't we, Leonard?'

‘Mm, absolutely, darling.'

‘Would you like to come in?' Alex asked, reluctance loading each word. If she had said,
I don't want you to come in
it would have been in the same tone.

‘Well—'

‘We'd love to.' Heather cut Leonard off. ‘Alex – may we call you Alex – Alex, we simply can't believe you had such a horrid experience, and on our property.'

Tony closed his eyes for an instant and suppressed an urge to laugh. There was an almost irresistible tone-deafness to Heather. Almost. She never considered that using every opportunity to mention ‘our property' could be a bit crass. Neither did she ever stop to consider that there might be an inch or two of this corner of Gloucestershire that
didn't
belong to the Derwinters. This house, for instance – or the Black Dog. Or his own home, among others.

He heard Bogie give a single annoyed bark as the Derwinters must have crossed the threshold and smiled again. Dogs very quickly became territorial.

‘Sweet little dog,' Heather said.

‘What is it exactly?' This was Leonard.

‘A Bogie,' Alex said clearly and with an edge of frost. ‘This is Bogie and he's one of a kind.'

Tony grinned again. She wasn't the quiet kid he'd once known.

She came through the door first and the expression on her face when she saw his relaxed attitude was comical. Her mouth opened but she didn't make a sound. He thought she looked rather lovely like that. Funny he'd never noticed how pretty she was until he'd been away at university and come home for the holidays. By that time he was already deeply involved with another student.

Life had matured Alex, made her sharper and less sunny, but he'd found her casually curly dark hair and green eyes good to look at from the moment she'd returned to Folly-on-Weir. He liked her. He didn't like thinking about whatever disappointments she had left behind in London.

‘You know Tony Harrison,' she said to the Derwinters.

‘
Tony
.' Heather hailed him like a very close friend. That was before her blonde bob swished from side to side when she looked from him to the rest of the room, to Alex's glass on a table, to the glass in his hand. ‘Look, Leonard, it's Tony of all people.'

‘So it is,' Leonard said with a smile that turned down at the corners. ‘Look, sorry to interrupt. We're on our way home so we decided to stop and offer Alex our support. Glad she's got you to lean on.'

‘That doesn't mean a girl can't use more than one broad shoulder,' Heather said before Tony had a chance to respond. Pink had risen over her high cheekbones. ‘I can't rest until I know everything, Alex. And until I make sure you have our home and mobile numbers.' She peeled off a gray tweed hacking jacket, showing off a fabulous figure in a tight red sweater, and sat down on the couch Alex had used. She patted the seat beside her and Alex obliged, even managed a relaxed and serene manner.

‘There,' Heather said. ‘Now tell us everything.'

Heather was a beautiful woman, and at least a generation younger than her husband. Her features were delicate and pert but she was athletically built, all sleek lines intended for the expensively tailored riding outfits she usually favored. Despite hours spent outdoors, her skin remained translucently pale.

‘I'm sorry,' Alex said as if she didn't understand. ‘Tony and I have known each other since we were children. He was kind enough to give me a lift home.'

‘Leonard,' Heather said as if Alex hadn't spoken, ‘you've got one of our cards with all the numbers on it. Put it on the mantel, there's a love.'

Her husband followed instructions. He was a good-looking man, sleek with olive skin and dark brown hair and eyes. Tall and all muscle. Probably more than ten years older than Tony, as a boy he had scarcely known who he was. They did have the same prep school in common but Leonard was long graduated by the time Tony got there.

‘We should leave these people to their evening,' Leonard said, turning back from the fireplace.

‘Is it true the dead person was shot?' Heather asked Alex. ‘And there was a frightful amount of blood?'

‘No,' Alex said, then caught Tony's stare and rolled her eyes. She clearly wasn't accustomed to dissembling. ‘They didn't tell me anything. The police, that is.'

‘What sort of things do they ask when something like that happens?'

Leonard took up Heather's jacket. ‘I believe the police prefer you not to give out details, my dear.'

She flapped a hand. ‘That doesn't mean us, Leonard. Do you know that … well, I shouldn't mention names, but I was told it was a man wearing some sort of habit.'

‘I wasn't aware of that,' Alex said, managing to look surprised even as she lied.

‘Yes, probably a priest, I suppose?' Heather said, the question hanging there, a not-too-subtle prod for information. Her nose wrinkled as if a priest were something foreign to her. ‘Apparently he probably killed himself, or so I was told.'

‘The police didn't say anything like that to me,' Tony said, ‘but anything's possible.'

‘Of course,' Heather said, turning her full attention on him. ‘You were there, too, weren't you? How did the man die?'

‘Apparently we'll be told with everyone else, after the post-mortem. Even then, they won't give details that could compromise their case.' She was irritating him severely.

‘But you were
there.
You must have some opinion.'

‘My father's the GP,' he said, hoping he'd be forgiven for using his dad to shift attention. ‘I just wandered around in the background. There was obviously nothing I could do.'

‘Let's get on,' Leonard said. Tony appreciated the man's decency. ‘These people have had a hard day.'

‘I'll be up to look at the little filly tomorrow,' Tony said, standing to move things along.

With an obviously disappointed Heather in tow, Leonard led the way out of Lime Tree Lodge.

Once the front door closed behind the Derwinters, Alex said, ‘I might as well just ask. Do you know why Cathy Cummings said she wanted to see the body then went to pieces? Was it something the detective said that made her collapse?'

‘You get points for controlling your curiosity so long,' Tony said. ‘We both know we're not supposed to discuss this.'

‘And we know we will. And the police know everyone around will discuss theories. As long as we don't give away information others can't know, I don't see the harm. I'm worried about Cathy.'

He believed her. She was the type who cared about other people. The two of them hadn't exchanged more than a few words since her return to Folly, until tonight, but he was drawn to her frankness. What the hell, he wondered, had Bailey-Jones done to ruin the marriage? Fleetingly, Tony decided it had to be Bailey-Jones's fault and that the man was a fool.

BOOK: Folly
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