Chapter Fifteen

A cold shudder ran through her as a surge of adrenaline propelled her across the kitchen floor to the back door. The key was in the lock, and it was in the right position, but she tried the door handle anyway. The door was locked. With a pounding heart, she checked the text again for the phone number, but it wasn’t one she recognized. Was she being watched? Stalked?

Although she was quite sure she must have locked the front door behind her when she came in, she couldn’t remember doing it, so she raced through the sitting room. Just as she placed her hand on the key, she was startled by a knock. She hadn’t heard a car approach, but then she’d been rattling about in the kitchen and listening to the radio. She crept to the front window and gently pulled back the curtain. Through the sodden darkness, and with the glow from the lamps in the sitting room behind her, she could just make out the outline of a car she didn’t recognize.

The knocking came again. She returned to the door, and with her mouth so dry she could barely speak, she forced out two words. “Who’s there?” she croaked.

“Gareth.”

She flung the door open. “Bloody hell! What are you playing at?”

The former Det. Chief Inspector Gareth Davies, now retired, stood on her front step, rain pouring down behind him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ring to let you know I was coming over. I was going to, and then …”

“The text? Was it from you?”

“Yes.”

“It frightened me half to death. What did you mean by it?”

“Look, would it be all right if I came in out of the rain for a moment, and I’ll explain.”

“Yes, of course,” Penny said.

At one time it had looked like a fine romance was in the offing between her and DCI Davies, as he’d been then. But although he could claim her affection and respect, that essential spark needed if a relationship was to move to the next level just wasn’t there for her, and he didn’t have her heart. She’d kept him in the “friend zone,” as she’d overheard a young customer say to Eirlys in the nail studio. And then Gareth had met Fiona Barton from Scotland, who had lured him out of Penny’s friend zone and into her … well, Penny wasn’t sure what her zone was, but she was sure it was a step up from the friend zone, and it was in Edinburgh. At the end of the summer Gareth had announced that he was selling his house in Llandudno and moving to Edinburgh to be with her.

“I wanted a quick word. Look, if I’ve come at a bad time, I’ll just say what I’ve come to say, and then I’ll be off.” He gestured at the door.

“No, it’s all right. Now that you’re here, go on through.” She reached for his coat and draped it over the newel post of the staircase.

“Good. Well, I won’t stay long,” Gareth said, easing himself into one of the comfortable wing chairs. I hope not, thought Penny.

“You mentioned that you wanted a quick word?” she prompted.

“Yes. I wanted to tell you, warn you maybe, that travellers have pitched up down the road from you in the fields where the agricultural show was held, and you need to be careful. I’ve often thought that your cottage, delightful as it may be, is a little too isolated, and that leaves you vulnerable. I know in the past you’ve been a little lax about locking your doors, so please make sure you do that. You don’t want to take any chances with that lot on your doorstep.”

He was right about the unlocked doors. There had been times over the years, especially in summer, when Penny had gone to work leaving the back door open so Harrison could come in from his garden wanderings or make his way outdoors after a nap. She cringed when she thought how lucky she’d been that she hadn’t been burgled.

“You’re right, of course,” said Penny, “and you’ll be happy to know I don’t do that anymore. I always make sure the doors are locked, but I appreciate the warning. On my way home just now, I did see a group of people setting up what looked like a campsite in the field and wondered who they were and what they were up to.”

“They’re travellers,” Gareth repeated. “And they won’t have been given permission to be there. And since it’s private land, the council can’t do anything about moving them on.”

A diverse group of people of Irish or Romany descent, some groups of travellers choose to live in permanent homes while others opt for the open road, moving from place to place. Travellers on the move almost always meet with animosity and resistance from authorities and civilians alike.

“I had quite a few dealings with travellers as a police officer, and although I always tried to be nonjudgemental, we did have to make arrests, mostly for theft. So I just wanted to warn you to be on your guard and remind you to keep your doors locked.”

“I’ll do that,” said Penny. She thought about the two pieces of salmon sitting on the work top, and it flashed through her mind, but only for a second or two, to invite him to stay for dinner. That might be the polite thing to do, but surely if someone drops in unexpectedly while you’re in the middle of preparing dinner, you’re not obligated to invite them to join you. And besides, what if there’d been just one piece of salmon? The bottom line was that she simply didn’t want to invite him to stay for dinner, so she didn’t. She knew he never touched alcohol while was driving, so there was no point in offering him a glass of wine. And as for a cup of tea, which might be what he was hoping for, it just seemed like it would take too long to wait for the kettle to boil and fuss about with the tea things, dragging out the visit unnecessarily. And anyway, he’d dropped in unannounced, and given her such a fright. So she offered him nothing.

As she was mulling over all these possibilities, his eyes wandered around the room, taking everything in. “Looks just the same. As nice as ever.” He then turned his attention to her. “And you. You’re looking well.”

His “you’re looking well” remark struck an uneasy chord, so she decided to try to move things along. “I’ve left the oven on and I haven’t fed Harrison yet, so if …”

He sprang to his feet. “Oh, of course. You’ve had a long day, and I’m sure you’re anxious to get on with your evening.”

“I am a bit tired,” Penny admitted, “and hungry, too, if I’m honest. But if you’re around for a few days, perhaps we can catch up over a cup of coffee.”

“I’d like that. I’m not sure how long I’m staying. Just tying up a few loose ends to do with the sale of the house that had to be done in person.”

“I’m sorry if I overreacted when you arrived,” Penny said as they walked to her front door. “It’s just that your text frightened me, and I didn’t recognize the number. If I’d known it was from you, I wouldn’t have been so alarmed.”

“I’ve got a new phone and changed my number, so your phone wouldn’t have recognized it.”

When he was gone, she popped the salmon in the oven and set the timer. She poured herself a glass of wine, took it through to the sitting room, and called Victoria.

“Gareth’s back,” she began. “He was just here. No, I don’t know how long for, and I didn’t ask him about Scotland. He didn’t let me know he was coming over, and I was tired and hungry, so I wasn’t terribly hospitable. We might meet up for a coffee.” They chatted for a few more minutes, and when the timer pinged, Penny returned to the kitchen to turn the salmon, put the broccoli on to steam, and microwave a packet of rice.

And now he was back. Penny’s emotions were no longer mixed. She was happy he’d found the happiness he was looking for, and if she was honest with herself, just that tiny bit relieved he’d found it well away from Llanelen, leaving her to get on with her life as a fulfilled, independent woman.

She didn’t know how long he’d been back in the area, but thought not long enough to have heard about the theft of the Black Chair and the as yet unexplained death of Rhodri Phillips. Surely if he had heard, he would have mentioned it.

Or maybe not. Perhaps all he wanted to do was warn her about the travellers, but she did wonder how he knew about them. After all, as he himself had said, her cottage was isolated, and very few people would drive down her road, past the encampment, on the way to somewhere else. Perhaps he had been coming to see her anyway, to let her know he was back, and used the travellers’ camp as an excuse to call in.

She watched the evening news while she ate her meal, and when she was finished, she carried her used dishes to the kitchen, washed them, and laid out a bowl and mug ready for her breakfast in the morning.

After checking that the doors and windows were locked, as she did every night but tonight a little more mindfully than usual, she went upstairs, and a few minutes later she was settled in bed with her library book. After reading the same paragraph several times, she closed the book, rested it on her knees, and gazed at the curtained window. As she mulled over the events of the past two days, something Lane had said danced around in the back of her mind, taunting her. She willed it to come forward, to show itself, but just as it got tantalizingly close, it danced away and receded into that hidden place in the mind where ideas wait to be discovered.

With a sigh, she switched off the light, adjusted her pillows, and slid down into the warmth of her bed. She closed her eyes, struggling one last time to capture what Lane had said, but eventually gave up and lay in the dark, Harrison cuddled up beside her, listening. When she was sure all she could hear was the sound of the rain pattering against her window, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.