“Every single bottle?” George stared at the graveyard of broken mead dreams. He’d been excited to see what came from the honey he’d picked. “What a disaster. I hate this for you. All your effort gone to waste.”
“Ah. We’ll make a new batch. Come see the ideas we’ve had for your chilli-spiced honey.” Teagan had obviously moved past their disappointment. “We’re brainstorming. Want to give us a hand?”
Outside of his garden, the brewery was one of George’s favourite places. He adored the creative energy when Teagan and Murphy plotted a new recipe. It was inspiring.
There was something almost stimulating about the atmosphere. It was clear to see how passionate they were about mead. They’d toss ideas back and forth while going through the collection of fruits, spices, and other ingredients at their disposal.
He sat on one of the stools, watching the two of them. They took small portions of the honey, mixing it with certain ingredients for a taste test. They were meticulous in wanting things to be perfect.
Who could blame them, given the results of the blackberry batch? He imagined they’d go above and beyond to try to prevent another mishap. It was like his hives; even if he did everything right, things could always go wrong.
“Here. Try this.” Murphy stepped over with a spoon. He held it out to George. “What do you think?”
“Tastes like a spicy Jaffa cake.” George licked the mixture off the spoon. He enjoyed the orange chocolate warmth coating his mouth. “Perfect. It’ll be an amazing mead. You’ve got the flavours balanced perfectly.”
While they went back to work on other recipe ideas, George went into the office to check on Bumble. His pug was snoring deeply, settled into the blankets in his bed. He went to sit on the floor and reached out to lightly scratch behind Bumble’s ears.
It was calming. The office felt so much like Murphy. George rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, enjoying the hum of activity in the brewery and Bumble snuffling beside him.
“You okay?” Murphy came into the office several minutes later. He crouched in front of where George was sitting. “Why don’t I take you home? We can have a quiet evening. There’s the show you wanted to watch on Netflix. We can catch a few episodes together.”
“Don’t you have mead to make?”
“Not really. We’ve cleaned everything up. Teagan’s got the bottles prepped to be sanitised. We’ve figured out our recipe. Nothing to do but wait until tomorrow morning to start the process. It’s gone four now. Sent Tea to their auntie’s. They’ll see if there’s any gossip about the wedding party for us.” Murphy placed a hand on George’s shoulder. “There’s a two-for-one deal at the pizza place. We can grab a couple and have a lovely evening.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Pizza, beer, and just the two of us.” Murphy hesitated when Bumble made a loud snort. “My apologies. Just the three of us.”
George felt some of his remaining anxiety fade away. He had to laugh when Murphy engaged in a brief conversation with Bumble. “You get everything settled?”
“I have admitted my mistakes and promised to do better.” Murphy winked at him. He rose to his feet and reached out his hand. “Ready to go?”
“I don’t know. Floor’s comfortable.” George took the hand held out to him, letting Murphy help him get to his feet. “Well, maybe not that comfortable.”
“The older you get, the less comfortable the floor becomes.” Murphy led the way out of the office. “My words of wisdom for the day.”
“Truly inspired.” George snickered. He stretched his arms over his head, and they both laughed when his back audibly cracked. “Think I just proved your point.”
The walk to the brewery had been nice, but George appreciated the ride back in Murphy’s vehicle. Bumble had certainly already gotten his exercise for the day and then some. Poor old pug seemed ready for his dinner and his bed.
Since Murphy had called ahead, their pizzas were ready when they arrived. George’s mouth started to water the second they were in the vehicle. They smelled absolutely divine.
“Heard a bit of choice gossip.” Murphy slid back into the driver’s seat. “Seems Cara and Jimmy had a screaming match this afternoon.”
“Oh? With each other?”
“Might as well have been. They were screeching at Polly.” Murphy waved to someone who crossed in front of them and then began driving out of the village. “Tish at Pizza Palace said they were in the middle of the pavement saying all kinds of things about her. She simply stared at them without speaking a word.”
“What were they saying?” George twisted slightly in the seat.
“Saying she tricked Val into signing a will excluding Cara.” Murphy nodded when George gasped in surprise. “Tish said the Larkins seemed shocked. What if they assumed she was the beneficiary of her new wife’s estate?”
“And Polly?”
“The little mouse claimed to have no idea she was the sole beneficiary.” Murphy scratched his beard for a few seconds. “Not sure anyone believed her. It’s an interesting twist to our murder mystery.”
“Yes, what a twist, someone murdered a loved one over money.” George hoped the past few months hadn’t turned him into a complete cynic. “Am I being overly suspicious?”
“Given your experiences this summer? Probably not. I had the same thought,” Murphy admitted. “I imagine we’ll hear more about it from Teagan. Their auntie has likely heard every minute detail of the argument by this time.”
They talked about mead and honey combinations for the rest of the short drive to his cottage. The divine smell of the pizza had his stomach grumbling loudly. George had to restrain himself from opening one of the boxes and grabbing a slice to eat in the vehicle.
Taking a couple drinks out of the fridge, George went into the garden. They set up some blankets near the firepit. Murphy had already gotten a fire going and propped up the laptop on a chair.
It was chilly enough to warrant a fire but not too cold to chase them inside. They got comfortable on the blanket, snuggled together with their pizzas, and Bumble curled up nearby. As the evening grew darker, George switched on all the faerie lights in the garden.
George was contemplating one last bite of pizza when their peaceful date night was shattered by shouting. “Not again.”
“Let’s go see what they want.” Murphy picked up the two boxes of pizza, carrying them inside and setting them on the kitchen counter. “You might give the police a call. I’m fairly certain I recognise the dulcet tones of Cara Larkin.”
“Again? For….” George dragged his fingers through his hair. He pulled a tie out of his pocket and gathered it up into a ponytail. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”
“I don’t know.” Murphy frowned when someone pounded on the front door. “Call Elwin. Tell him that the widow can’t seem to take his advice to leave you alone to heart.”
“He’s going to be annoyed.”
“He’ll be more annoyed if we don’t call him.” Murphy wasn’t wrong.
While Murphy went to answer the door, George called Elwin on his cell phone. After a few rings, he answered and told them not to “engage with any of his potential suspects.” The detective didn’t seem to believe him when he claimed to not have wanted to speak to them in the first place.
George couldn’t exactly deny it. But he hadn’t wanted to see them at his cottage for what felt like a hundred times in the past week. “I’ll be a good lad and stay inside.”
“Paddy’s already gone to speak with them, hasn’t he?” Elwin sighed heavily. “What am I going to do with the two of you?”
“Come rescue us from the distraught widow?” George hung up before Elwin said anything else. He hated speaking over the phone. Bumble trundled over to plop down on his foot. “Hello. Don’t worry. Paddy’s going to be fine, and so are we. We won’t let the police arrest you for murder.”
The joke lifted his spirits a little. George crouched down to give Bumble a scratch, then sent him off to his bed by the fireplace. He decided to listen to the conversation happening outside the cottage just in case Murphy needed his help.
All the shouting had stopped the second Murphy went outside. Inching closer to the door, George could hear raised voices. It mostly sounded like the Larkin siblings arguing with each other.
George cracked the door open after realising he hadn’t heard Murphy speak. He found his boyfriend standing on the path while Jimmy and Cara were having a shouting match in the middle of the lane. It was a disturbingly familiar scene. “Paddy?”
Murphy glanced back at the cottage at the whisper. “Shut the door.”
“I called Elwin.”
“Brilliant. Shut the door before she sees you and changes the target of her aggravation.” Murphy winked at him and then returned his attention to the Larkins. “I’ve never seen people so dedicated to shouting their problems out for the entire sodding county to hear.”
“The volume’s impressive.” George winced when the raised voices went back to banshee-level shrieking. “What do they hope to gain?”
Murphy seemed to realise he wasn’t going back inside, so he motioned for George to join him. “Cara has become hyper-focused on your knowing some secret. Don’t ask me what or why, or how. I’ve no idea. Jimmy is concerned about her mental state and appears to show this by matching her volume in conversation.”
“What is the point?”
“Not a single clue.” Murphy shrugged. “Aside from ruining a perfectly lovely evening? I’ve no idea what they hoped to accomplish by this spectacle.”
George leaned against him. He yawned noisily. “I’m bored. Is this what neurotypical siblings do?”
“I think it’s what they do.” Murphy nodded towards the siblings. He pointed down the lane where headlights could be seen. “I sense the arrival of the police.”
George considered stepping behind Murphy to hide. “Elwin might’ve told us to stay inside the cottage.”
“Technically, we’re on your property. We haven’t left the garden.” Murphy was unbothered by the impending lecture they were sure to receive. “Detective Inspector Smith likes to forget I’ve known him since we were both wee boys. I’m not intimidated by someone who used to eat dirt out of his ma’s potted plants.”
One of the local constables arrived first. He immediately went to separate the siblings. They thankfully stopped arguing with each other.
It was a few minutes before Elwin joined them. He spared a glance in their direction before going to have a hushed conversation with the siblings. In a surprisingly short amount of time, the Larkins were on their way, with the constable following after.
Elwin stalked up the lane towards them. He looked absolutely exhausted. “What happened to staying inside the cottage?”
“They were too busy shouting at each other to even notice me.” George figured he’d been close enough that he could’ve bolted into the cottage if necessary. “Besides, I couldn’t hear what was happening from inside.”
“You couldn’t….” Elwin pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath for several seconds. “I’m not overly concerned with your hearing what’s going on. I care about you staying safe.”
“I was. They were over there.” George pointed helpfully to where the Larkins had been arguing in the lane. “Not even close to me.”
With an aggrieved sigh, Elwin threw his hands in the air. He stomped back down the path and over to his vehicle. George twisted his head to the side to hide his grin.
“Poor Elwin.”
“Yes, I imagine it’s always going to be difficult to be a detective inspector in the county where you were born.” Murphy draped his arm across George’s shoulders. “I know Sarah whinges about it often enough.”
“Do you think Cara or Jimmy killed Valerie Collins?” George had learnt the hard way in the past few months that people often murdered the ones they claimed to love. “For whatever they believe was in the will?”
“I have no idea.”