Hot to Kill Page 17

  Madeline gave a big sigh as she caught sight of the Giant Orange Machine, reminding her of where this had all started

  “I’ve been a bad woman,” she began.

  He watched her, still purring loudly.

  “I’ve done some dumb things recently and now I’m a bit worried I might get found out. It started with a woman and her iced buns, but now I might be in trouble for something a bit more serious than sticking my finger where it wasn’t wanted.”

  A blackbird flew in and sat on a low branch of the magnolia tree at the edge of the patio. Dexter noticed it and sat up more alertly, wondering if he could be bothered going for it, if he could get to it in time before it flew off and made a mockery of him. The blackbird didn’t move and neither did Dexter.

  She sipped her cold drink. “And now I’m wondering what will happen, and how it might happen, so if anyone wants me, I’m not in. That way, they might just give up and go look at another clue.” She had another thought. “Maybe I could even get Gordon to go away with me this weekend, go to Brighton maybe, or Bournemouth?” She knew, though, he’d hate that idea straight away. Having just come back from London on a hot train, he wouldn’t be up for a hot evening’s drive down there. The traffic would be hellish, for one, and he didn’t appreciate short notice, for another. An impromptu weekend away wasn’t going to happen. Or save her.

  “I’ll just have to stay busy and keep out of everyone’s way, head out to the garden centre again…” The thought of the garden centre reminded her of another episode. “Oh hell. And there lies another tale.”

  Dexter looked up at her, confused, but stayed on her lap, busying himself with washing his front paw like it was a sudden emergency and then nestling his head down for a snooze. An ample sigh made his whole body rise and fall heavily just the once.

  “I feel just the same, Dexter. Perhaps I should have a nap too.” And so she laid her head back on the lounger, breathed deeply for a couple of beats, closed her eyes for a moment and let the light breeze waft over her in an almost caressing way. Not five minutes later, Madeline was sound asleep.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Madeline awoke to hearing her name being called. Her eyelids felt like someone had put little dumbbell weights on them; she had to battle them open. It reminded her of the heaviness after anaesthetic.

  “Madeline. Maddy? Are you okay?” Recognising Gordon’s soft voice, she tried to sit upright, having slithered down the lounger somewhat. Her hands immediately went to her head and mussed-up hair,. She had a terrible case of bedhead. Finally, waking a bit more, she replied, “Yes, I’m fine. I must have dozed off. What time is it?”

  “It’s just coming up to five pm. Are you sure you’re all right? I don’t think I’ve ever known you to fall asleep in the afternoon.” He was smiling down at her, looking like the caring husband he was. They had their moments.

  “What are you doing home so early? Is everything alright with you?” Madeline was fully awake and sat upright now. No, this definitely wasn’t the norm for a Friday afternoon. Gordon smiled warmly again.

  “Yes, quite. Everything is fine. I just thought I’d make my way home early and take my wife out for dinner, if she fancied it. It’s such great weather, I thought we’d go off and find a pub somewhere by a river and sit and enjoy it. What do you think?”

  Well, it would make up for me not going Sainsbury’s shopping, and as I had no clue what was for dinner anyway, it’s a good idea.

  “What a lovely thought. Thank you.” Her plan to lie low came flooding back to her. “Yes, let’s do that. In fact, why don’t we freshen up now and head straight out. We could take a stroll after dinner.” She beamed her best smile up at him and thought about how lucky they were not to have a crappy marriage like Rebecca and Edward. Gordon might be a bit humdrum sometimes but who was she to talk? Her waistline was not as small as it had once been, and the extra chin had developed nicely over the last couple of years, but still, she knew she loved him, and he loved her and they were faithful. They were as solid as any couple that had been together for most of their adult lives.

  Standing, she gently shooed Dexter to the ground and brushed his hairs off her skirt, then followed Gordon inside. After a quick shower and a change of clothes each, and a bit of extra make-up for Madeline, they were on their way, headed south down the quiet back roads and on to Oxted. ‘The George’ wasn’t exactly by the river, nowhere near a river at all actually, but it was a nice pub with somewhere to take a walk afterwards when you were feeling a bit overfull. It had been refurbished just the year before, and the new fitout came with new cuisine too, a Spanish influence that she and Gordon both found quite nice.

  They pulled into the car park and she thought about the text she’d got at lunchtime with Rebecca, about James’s death. She was reluctant to bring the subject up at all, but she knew she needed to tell Gordon. She hooked her arm through his and they both went inside. It was quite a nice light and airy place – they’d done a good job on their refurbishment – and Madeline propped the bar up while deciding what to drink. Having already had two G&Ts today, she suspected she’d be safer to stick to a sparkling water and was just about to open her mouth and order but Gordon beat her to it.

  “Two gin and tonics, please,” he said to the barman.

  So much for only having water, then, but there is a quiet comfort in him knowing my tipple of choice.

  She didn’t mind, and he knew she rarely drank anything else apart from a glass of wine at Sunday lunch. Picking up the menu, she began to scan it, taking in the sharing boards and the steaks, all of which she could quite happily devour. The afternoon nap had made her hungry.

  “I don’t need to look,” he said. “Steak for me, and you choose a sharing board.” He was such a creature of habit, but then they both were. She made her selection and placed their order with the barman, and then they went to sit outside in the garden. The evening sun felt lovely and warm on their skin.

  “Let’s sit over there,” Gordon said, pointing to a quiet corner, though there were only a handful of people in the garden at the moment. Give it another hour and it would be packed. They sat down together, sipped their G&Ts, and fell into a comfortable silence.

  After a few minutes, she took a deep breath, screwed up her nerve, and told him about the text, about James’s death. Obviously, she wasn’t going to mention what she’d actually done to cause it, but if the police did come knocking again, which they likely would since she was a book club member, she figured it was best that Gordon be forewarned.

  “Oh dear, darling. No wonder you were asleep. That must have been the shock. Why didn’t you say something earlier?” He genuinely looked sorry, and her heart melted at bit at the concern in his voice. He reached for her hand and petted it. “There, there,” he said soothingly.

  “Well, you didn’t know him, so I didn’t think it would be of interest to you. He was the dominant one at book club and could be a pain in the arse sometimes, but now? Well, he’s gone. Heart condition, apparently. I’m not sure if I’ll go to the funeral yet. I don’t know when it is at this point.” She watched another couple enter the garden. They were holding hands and looked very much in love. They took seats in the farthest corner from Gordon and Madeline.

  “Oh, but you must go,” said Gordon. “Pay your respects and all. The other members will be going, I’m sure, so you’ll want to show your support for each other. A nasty time for you all.” As always, he was the voice of reason, and he was quite right: she really should go. But it didn’t sit well in her stomach at all, knowing that she’d killed him. Though it wasn’t intentionally, she was still guilty. And would the police be there?

  “Would you like me to come with you? I’m sure I could if you wanted me to,” he suggested gently. “It might be nice to meet the other members of the club. I don’t know anything about them.”

  “It’s not really the right place to go to meet folk, is it?”

  “Not generally, that’s not what I meant, but th
ere’s always a spread on somewhere after when the service is over and people gather for tea and sherry. I could say hello to them then.”

  She knew he was right; it looked like she was going to go to James’s funeral after all. “All right. I’ll find out when it is, and if you can come, then lovely.” She smiled over the top of her glass. It was then she noticed the colour of his eyes again, for the first time in a long time. Whether it was the events of the day, the afternoon nap or her third G&T, she was seeing Gordon like it was twenty years ago again. He really was quite handsome. She leant forward, took his hands in hers and pecked him slowly on the lips.

  “What was that for?”

  “Does there need to be a reason? Just thanks for being so supportive, that’s all.”

  “It’s what friends do. And lovers, as a matter of fact.” He smiled so nicely, like she really was the love of his life. Maybe she still was. Their sharing platter arrived and the waiter set it down between them, the beautiful cured cut meats, dips and breads all arranged perfectly. Madeline picked up a small piece of bread, dipped it in olive oil and tucked it into Gordon’s half-open and surprised mouth. She watched him chew. He really was a handsome man. Could she still be the love of his life? She hoped so.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Amanda drove towards home that evening with Mrs. Stewart on her mind. She decided to drop in on her on the way, just to make sure the old woman had someone looking out for her. Her Google Maps app voice informed her the destination was on her left. Amanda pulled up outside and sat thinking for a minute – did James have a next of kin? Mrs. Stewart would know, and probably the other legal things like where his will was, if there was one, who to contact and all the other things that need sorting when someone dies. Since they’d known one another for some time, Amanda would be surprised if she didn’t.

  She grabbed her bag, headed to the front door and rapped with the old-fashioned brass knocker. The sound seemed to echo down the whole street. It was a quiet part of town, and glancing at the nicely manicured front gardens filled with copious amounts of random colour, she guessed rightly that the street was home to mainly elderly folks. The younger generation tended to go for a more uniform colour scheme and more low-maintenance plants these days than annuals from a garden centre. Leafy greens and whites were more common in those neighbourhoods. She heard light footsteps on the other side of the door, and a frail voice asked nervously, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Detective Amanda Lacey, Mrs. Stewart. We spoke this morning.” There was a click of the lock and the door opened inwards. Mrs. Stewart stood looking quite small on the other side of it.

  “Hello again. Please, come in.” She started walking back down the hallway, to the kitchen, no doubt: they were always down the back.

  “Thank you.” Amanda followed her footsteps and added, “I just wanted to pop my head in and see how you are. How are you doing?”

  “Tea?” Mrs. Stewart enquired without answering the question.

  “No, thank you. I won’t keep you long. Are you feeling a little better? Is someone looking out for you?”

  “Yes, I told Bridget next door what has happened. She’s been extremely thoughtful. I’m to go round for morning coffee in the morning, when I’m feeling a little better, you know. But I will call her if I need anything in the meantime.” She seemed satisfied with that arrangement and Amanda nodded her approval.

  “I have to ask about Mr. Peterson’s next of kin. Do you know who we should contact, or are you in touch with them?”

  “Yes, I’ve let his son know. He’s not local. He lives in Australia, so he’s on his way over. I rang him when I got back here this morning. Do you know what happened yet?”

  “It seems he had a heart attack. You knew he had a heart condition, I expect?”

  “Oh yes, for a couple of years now. I guess we all have to go eventually. Still, I will miss him deeply. We’ve been good friends and I won’t pretend the bit of money hasn’t come in useful. I guess there’s a funeral to arrange now.” She stared off, lost in thought, and Amanda took the opportunity to finish their conversation there.

  “Yes, there will be.” She paused, then added, “I’ll leave you in peace then, Mrs. Stewart, and say good night to you. I simply wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Yes. Good night to you too. And thank you for dropping by.”

  Amanda made her way back to the front door and out into the riotous colours of the street. The evening air was still warm and a light breeze blew, making it feel like a warm hair dryer blowing on a low speed round the back of her neck. She unlocked her car then drove over to Ruth’s place. She didn’t want to go home to an empty house. Not tonight.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Amanda sat in her car outside Ruth’s place for a few moments. The windows on the front of the house were all wide open in an effort to encourage a breeze through, and she could see the curtains billowing a little inside. Amanda hated seeing death; it was never pleasant for anyone, and that was one of the reasons she’d decided to drop in on the old woman. Friendships that have developed over many years tended to be strong ones, she knew, and death was much harder to bear when the end finally came for one of them.

  It had made her think about her own situation, her and Ruth. They’d been together for some months now but Ruth still hadn’t introduced her to her family. Amanda herself hadn’t got much family left, having lost her parents years before to a drunk driver. She had been an only child, so the subject of meeting Amanda’s family had never come up between her and Ruth. But seeing Mrs. Stewart looking so frail and lost made her realise that if anything were to happen to Ruth, she’d be just as alone and it saddened her. She wanted to be a part of a family, with Ruth. Maybe one day they would even adopt a child or find someone willing to help out creating a baby of their own making. Other gay couples did; maybe they would too. Seeing Mrs. Stewart all alone had made her realise she definitely wanted more. She would broach the subject with Ruth soon, just not tonight. At this moment, all she really wanted was a hug, a glass of wine and to curl up with the woman she loved. But this weekend, she would bring the subject up when the right moment arose.

  She made her way down the side alley and in through the back gate towards the back door, which was wide open.

  “Hello!” she called.

  “I’m back here,” came the reply from somewhere behind her in the garden. Amanda turned and saw Ruth coming out of the shed, gardening gloves protecting her lovely fingernails while she did whatever she did in there with potting compost and the like. Amanda was not one for gardening, though she appreciated other people’s efforts. Smiling, she made her way down the paving stone path, trying not to step on the grassy joins: at school that had always been bad luck. For some reason she still kept the tradition up: no stepping on grassy joins or cracks if she could help it. She wasted no time taking Ruth in her arms and hugging her tightly.

  Ruth was unsure where to put her gloved hands without making a mess, so she held them in the air behind Amanda’s back and squashed her warmly with her elbows.

  “You okay? I don’t want to get you all dirty. Here, let me take my gloves off and let’s try that again so I can join in.” Amanda let her pull away for a moment and take the offending gloves off before re-engaging in an even tighter hug. Ruth rubbed her back as she did so; Amanda often saw some rough stuff with her job and generally needed a little comfort after work. Being in the police really did give a person cause to moan about a bad day at ‘the office,’ she knew. Ruth waited for her to pull away then gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Let me get you a cold glass of wine, then you can fill me in if you want to – or don’t if you’d rather not. Come and sit on the patio while I get it.” They walked hand in hand back up to the house, and Ruth parked Amanda in a comfortable chair, pecked her on the cheek once more and let go of her hand. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried into the kitchen, poured two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc from the bottle in the fridge, and retur
ned to Amanda with them in hand.

  They clinked their glasses and sipped companionably for a moment before Ruth asked gently, “What’s up? You look wrung out.”

  “We were called to a death this morning. An older man with heart problems. But it was the poor old housekeeper who found his body that I keep thinking about. She’s pretty much all alone and he was too, though they had been friends for many years. Just got me thinking about not having much by way of family myself, and who would take care of my affairs, that kind of thing. My funeral, my cat.”

  “You don’t have a cat.”

  “I might have to get one, if I don’t have any family around,” Amanda said, smiling weakly, trying to make a point without getting too maudlin.

  “Now you’re being dumb. You have me, silly. I know we don’t have the most conventional relationship, but it works for us, doesn’t it? It will be me taking care of your affairs when it happens, but not yet, eh?”

  “And I know that, and yes it does work for us. It’s just sometimes…” Amanda’s voice trailed off without finishing the sentence. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to go there tonight. She changed the tone to something a little more positive and added, “Anyway, I’m here now, and I’m going to drink this glass of wine then walk down and get us some fish and chips – unless you’ve already eaten?”

  “I just had a sandwich earlier on, so I’m sure I have room for a fish and chip supper. I’ll walk down with you if you’d like?”

  “I’d very much like.” Amanda felt better already. But she was going to bring the subject up again over the weekend. It was something she very much needed to sort out.