Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Do you think we should ring the police?” Elaina asked.

“What?” Startled, Kate looked up. It was as though Elaina had read her thoughts. Kate was sitting cross-legged in an armchair, a thick hard-covered book splayed across one knee. She had yet to turn the page. A reading light next to her and the twin candles on the low table illuminated the living room. Sunflowers in a vase on the coffee table, ageing now, the flickering flames turning the edges to bronze. For now, she had kept Gary’s secret. But how long could she remain silent?

“There’s a man loitering outside. I spotted him from the tower. He was staring ponderously at the tires of his Ford Fiesta, hands on hips.” Elaina imitated the pose. “When I came into the house, he was still there, sitting in his car.”

Kate was suddenly aware of the expanse of glass behind her. She slid the bookmark between the pages, marking her place. “Car trouble?” Or something more sinister? “What does he look like?”

“Tall, big…” Elaina spread her hands to indicate broad shoulders, then trailed off. She shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

“Which side of the street was he parked on?”

“At the end of the drive, where the trees thin out.”

“When did you notice him?”

“I don’t know.” Elaina sounded irritated now. “I didn’t look at my watch and make a note of the time on a corner of the canvas.”

“Not even a penciled notation?” Kate stood and tossed the book on the chair.

“Should we take a look?”

“Outside?”

“It might just be a flat tire. Would you though? I don’t have any shoes on.” She wriggled her bare toes, nails painted a shade of brilliant green. “And I’m going to have to get changed soon. Ian and I are going out for dinner. Spending ‘quality time together’.” She traced quotation marks in the air.

“You’re serious? Fine. I’ll go see if he’s still there.”

“It’s not your admirer, anyway, that much I can tell.”

“What do you mean?”

“This chap came by the pub yesterday, sat himself at the bar and started talking. Asking about you, and if you’re seeing anyone. Made it seem like he was an old friend, but I’m thinking, he’s a secret admirer. A customer from the shop who has his eye on you.”

A chill crept over Kate’s skin. “What did he look like?”

“Not my type, but attractive. Well-dressed. Money there, I’d say. Probably a good catch, if you decide Gary isn’t the one.” Elaina winked.

“What did he want to know?”

“It was just small talk, casual questions. What your interests are, things like that. The pub was busy, so my attention was elsewhere. I do remember telling him how much you like mysteries. He mentioned the burglary. It’s the talk of the town, after all. I said you’d solve the case soon, if the cops don’t. Nothing earth-shattering.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. It was strange though. “Why don’t you find the phone?” Kate kept her voice neutral, casual. “Just in case this guy wants to call a tow truck for his car.” Or they needed to phone the police. “If I’m not back in five—”

“Yeah, I get it.” Elaina said. She threw herself into the chair Kate had just vacated and stretched. “I’ve seen the movies.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kate muttered as she left.

In the entrance, Kate shaded the window with one hand. Peering out through one of the colored panes, she saw the length of drive, shining palely through the tinted glass. It was too dark, impossible to see farther. There were too many trees. No. She shifted, blocking out the ghostly reflection of the room behind her with the curve of her hand. There at the end of the property, was that the shape of a car? She stepped back.

What was the worst that could happen? The car was at the end of their own driveway, for God’s sake.

The kitchen was dark when Kate entered, when she opened the drawer. Glint of knives. She selected one. A carving knife. The blade thin and sharp. The handle felt cool and lay heavy in her hand, but it was well balanced. She gripped it firmly. Better safe than sorry.

Kate walked out to the entrance and opened the front door. Her fingers curled around the handle, the blade flashing.

The porch creaked softly beneath her weight. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark. The dense thicket of trees concealed the road. She wouldn’t be able to see anything from there.

She stepped off the porch, crossed the grass. A moth, feathery and soft, brushed against her arm. A bird flew overhead with a frightening clash of wings. Her heart pounded, an unsteady, wild rhythm.

Through a break in the foliage ahead, she saw the car. Leaves reflected in the windows, steam clouding the glass. Her palm slid damply on the handle of the knife concealed behind her back. Kate rapped a knuckle against the glass and waited.

Nothing happened. It seemed to simply be a parked car. Her laugh was shaky. Feeling incredibly stupid, Kate spun on her heel.

A whisper of sound, glass against rubber.

Her heart in her throat, Kate turned back and watched the window slide down. The driver just a form in the dusk within the car.

Kate took a cautious step closer. “Are you in trouble? Has your car broken down?”

A tweed-clad arm and leather elbow patch appeared. The man leaned out. A bovine face materialized. It was difficult to tell whether his hair was red or auburn. He seemed to be in his late forties.

Expression unchanged, he looked out at her. “Kate Rowan?” His voice was an impressive rumble of sound.

Shock had her falling back a step. “Who are you?”

“Gary Fenris sent me.”

Kate paused. “Prove it.”

“He said you’d say that and told me to give you this.” He held something out to her. She took it from him cautiously. A slim leather pouch. She opened it. A row of stainless-steel tools within. Five picks and two tension wrenches. “A lock pick set?”

“The handles are reinforced. He said you’d put it to good use.”

She smothered a laugh. “Okay. So Gary did send you. Why?”

“Safety precaution.”

Kate raised the knife. “I’ve got that covered, thank you.”

On a muffled oath, he jerked his arm back into the car. “I’m just the messenger.”

“You must be cold without the engine running to keep the heat going.”

“Scottish wool.” He gestured at the thick sweater he was wearing beneath the tweed. “Until further orders, you’re stuck with me.” A grin appeared suddenly. “Save the knife for the Sunday roast. You’ll ruin the blade.”

The window rose.

Kate rapped her knuckles against the glass again. Waited impatiently. Knocked again. Nothing. She scowled at the car.

How would she explain to Elaina that the Ford would remain parked outside their house for the time being?

The tools though, they were lovely. She fingered the edge of the leather one more time, then slid it into her back pocket.

Walking back to the house, Kate pulled out her cell phone, scrolled through the contacts for Gary’s number. The screen was cold against her skin as she typed.—A bodyguard?—

A second later, her phone pinged with a response.

—Yes. Did you get my proof of receipt?—

Kate wrote—Thank you for the lock pick set, but I don’t need a bodyguard.—

—You’re stuck with him for now.—A pause, then another text.—Be nice.—

—For how long?—

There was no reply.