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Christina kept herself busy in the bookshop, so I figured she didn’t want to talk about Alistair. She probably needed to process it all. I went upstairs to write for a bit and after that I wanted to check out the library at the Pembroke. First, I stopped at Nancy’s shop. Three customers were browsing, but they couldn’t overhear us.
Nancy was flipping through a magazine at the counter. “Hi, love,” she said without looking up.
“How are you liking that antique kettle you bought?” I asked.
“It was a teapot, act—” She gasped. “No, I didn’t. I mean, I didn’t buy anything. How dare you accuse me?”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “Accuse you of what, my dear aunt?”
“Oh, you little—you’re too smart for your own good. Just leave it alone, will you?”
“Do you guys spoon? Which one is the big spoon and which one the little? Do you hold hands? Has he cooked you dinner? Have you had Eskimo kisses? Do you have nicknames? Does he call you Schmoopy?”
“You horrid girl, get out,” she said as she started rolling up her magazine.
I shrieked and laughed as I ran out of her shop. Outside I held up my hands in the shape of a heart, but she bolted after me. I ran away giggling. She wouldn’t leave her shop unattended, so I was safe.
As I neared the Pembroke, still grinning, a girl shouted my full name. She had been sitting on a bench, eating an ice cream and ran over. She had an expensive-looking handbag on her arm, and I hadn’t noticed the purple streak in her dark hair earlier. Probably because I was trying to stop Nancy from killing her.
“Emblyn, right?” I said, and started strolling as she joined me.
“As you can see, my dad didn’t kill me. Yay,” she said dryly.
“That is a good thing. Besides, I’m sure he loves you.”
“Then you’re the only one of us who is,” she said. “Anyways, I heard you found a dead body. What was it like?”
“Not at all fun, in case that’s what you’re thinking. This is the second time I’ve found one.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you for real?”
“Yeah. How long have you lived here? You must have heard the gossip,” I said.
“We moved here two weeks ago. My dad desperately wanted to move to an idyllic village now that he’s getting older. It was his dream, not mine. But it didn’t stop him from yanking me away from all my friends and, you know, civilisation. So here I am, in the middle of nowhere.” She grunted.
“Yes, it must be terrible to be surrounded by thatched cottages, beautiful forests, and green paddocks with fluffy sheep.” I conveniently left out the homicidal chicken roaming around here.
“You sound like my dad. Hate to break it to you, but this is not a great place for a fifteen-year-old.”
I gasped. “Yes, it is. When I was fifteen, I had a great time here. You just have to know your way around this place.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Eddie and I used to hang out at the cemetery.”
“Oh, so you had an early interest in dead bodies?” She smirked.
“No,” I said and glared at her.
“Well—” Detective Black said.
“And we used to chase Mr Brooks’ sheep. Or play pranks on Mr Brooks. He was very moody. Once we painted his sheep to make it look like they wore tuxedos. It was harder than we thought. He was also furious, and we never dared to tell anyone we had done it.”
“How do you know I won’t tell him now?” Emblyn asked with a wicked grin.
“You could try, but I’ll be very impressed if you can talk to the dead.”
“Oh. Good thing I wasn’t planning on telling him then.” She paused. “Do you think your aunt will forgive me one day?”
“One day. Eventually. I think.” I glanced at her, and seeing her worried expression, added, “Just show her how great you are, and try to do something to make it up to her. She prefers action over words.”
She nodded. “I’ll remember that. It was really stupid of me. I don’t know why I did it.”
“Sometimes we do things to get noticed,” I said carefully.
She looked up and pressed her lips together. “That obvious, huh? I suppose I’m quite the cliché. Spoiled rich kid with daddy issues.”
“Don’t worry about what it looks like. You can’t help what you’re feeling. But just because your dad works a lot, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Maybe village life will rub off on him, and he’ll gradually spend more time with you. You could invite him to the Summer Festival. There is a wine tasting in a few days; he might like that.”
“He does love wine. He’s quite a wine snob.”
“Then you should suggest it,” I said. We had reached the bottom of the hill of the Pembroke estate.
“Good idea.” She smiled, and her whole face lit up.
“You know, my aunt always complains that she can never find good help, but I know for a fact that she’s not even looking. She has control issues. But maybe if you offer a trial run working at her shop, where she can let you go any second she’s not happy with you, you might find her willing to give you a chance. You might end up with a job, as well as redemption.” I winked at her.
“Her shop is cool, and it would give me something to do.”
“And you’ll meet new people.”
“You are full of good ideas today, Maggie Matthews,” she said.
“Those days are rare.”
She sniggered. “I’ll consider it. Take care.”
“Bye.”
She went off in the other direction, probably to check out the village square, while I went up the hill with feelings of trepidation. I hadn’t been back here since I got locked up with Alistair. I realised it was just an estate, it was unlikely to be truly cursed, but I certainly had unpleasant memories associated with it.
I let myself in with the key and looked around. Everything was quiet but looked the same. On the opposite side of the broad staircase that coiled upwards was the reception desk, now empty. I went through the archway on the right side of the staircase and into the reception area. It used to have a few sofas and further in the back there had been more seats, and a small bar. Now there was a hard-wooden floor instead of a carpet, and there were a sofa and two armchairs in front of the fireplace. There also used to be a bookcase that could open to a deathtrap, but it had been sealed. All the way in the back were a piano and a dining room table with chairs.
I shivered and went up the stairs to the first floor where the library was. It had high bookcases that covered the walls and more bookcases were stacked throughout the room. There was a small wooden table in the far back. It would certainly make a grand study with some minor changes.
Miles, or someone, had already put out moving boxes and markers. I actually knew someone who collected old books, so the first box I labelled ‘old books,’ a second one ‘bookshop,’ and a third ‘donate.’ That would be a great start. My hands were itching. I was bound to find something valuable, although I wouldn’t be able to appraise it. I started with one of the bookcases nearest to the table with the books on the bottom row, working my way up.
I wasn’t sure how long it had taken me, but by the time I had cleared out four rows, Miles’ cheerful greeting interrupted me.
“Hey, Miles,” I said. “What are you doing here?” It couldn’t be that late.
“I was actually running some work-related errands, despite the fact that my two-week holiday started on Monday. I was going to grab a drink in the pub for the first time, but Kelly told me you were here.”
I took a moment to sit down; I had worked up a sweat. It didn’t help that this room wasn’t air conditioned. “I didn’t notice anyone here.”
“She saw you working diligently and didn’t want to disturb.”
“And she’s your assistant or something? Alistair mentioned her name and that she did your shopping, I think.”
Miles leaned against the nearest bookcase. “Yes. I usually don’t have time for shopping, so that’s what she does.”
“What about the cooking then?”
“I love to cook. She knows better than to do that for me. She has two weeks off now as well. I suppose it will just be me in this massive place.”
“And me.” I smiled. “Not just for the books. I can always stop by, if you want.” Now that I’d gotten used to Christina, I realised how nice it was to live with someone.
He leaned forward. “You’re a dear. Speaking of hanging out, I would like it if you had dinner with me.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why are you saying it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like there’s a catch.”
“Well, the dinner is with my father.”
“Oh. That isn’t too bad, is it?”
“You haven’t met my father,” he grumbled.
“But I will. I’d love to have dinner with you guys.” I smiled.
“Great. So you’re in. Great.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “There’s another catch, isn’t there?”
“You have to pretend to be my girlfriend.” He shrugged and gave me an innocent smile.
“What? Why? We’re not in a romantic comedy. Can’t you just tell him you’re single?”
“No. He’s always pressuring me to get married, and he knows plenty of women to introduce me to. Since I turned thirty he’s been even more relentless. He said he was going to set me up, whether I liked it or not, and I told him I was seeing someone.” He held out his hands as if to say ‘oops.’
I sighed. “Your dad must be very forceful, then.”
“He’s an ass. We don’t get along, but I would like to get this over with. If I have to pretend to have a girlfriend for one night, so be it.”
“That is, if your girlfriend agrees.” I folded my arms in front of my chest.
“Make sure you get paid,” Detective Black whispered in my ear.
“What’s in it for me?” I said.
“What do you want?”
“I’ll think about that,” I said, because the only thing I could come up with on the spot was a pony. And where would I keep it?
“So you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it. It kind of sounds like fun.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew my father.”
“You turned out okay, at least.”
“Yes, it’s a miracle. Now, speaking of dinner, would you like me to cook you some?”
My mouth began to water, despite the fact that I’d just absorbed an entire pie. “I’m actually having dinner with the other authors.”
“Interesting. Let’s have a drink instead, then.”
I followed him down to the kitchen.
“This kitchen is small for a hotel kitchen,” I said as I looked around.
“That kitchen is on the other side of this hotel. This is the one for personal use. It’s quite charming, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “You mentioned your dad, but where is your mother?”
“Oh, she’ll also be at the dinner. She’s nice, contrary to my dad.”
“You really don’t like him.”
“No, but we won’t dive into that depressing topic. How’s your relationship with your parents?”
I laughed. And then elaborated since he wasn’t in my head and couldn’t know that was funny. “Just as dramatic, I’m afraid. My mother has mental problems, and my dad couldn’t deal with it. He left me with my aunt Nancy. It was only supposed to be temporary, but he started a new family and stopped visiting frequently.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay. We can’t choose who we are born to.”
He took a swig of white wine. “That is very true.”
“So do you like being back here?” I asked. “Have you made friends with Pandora yet?” The first time he’d met her, she’d gone straight for his ankles.
“Ugh. Foul beast.” He made a face. “But apart from the winged demon, it is lovely being back. It still has that same feel, though I have changed, of course. So has Alistair. Not in a bad way, mind. We’ve just grown up.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m glad I didn’t do it.”
“Do what?”
“Grow up. I just refused.”
He laughed. It was a nice change from that fake, but charming smile. “You’re not who I thought you would be when I first met you.”
“When you first met me I was being interviewed by the police about a murder.”
“Yes. That’s probably why. Speaking of murder...are you getting involved in this one? You have quite the reputation as a problem-solver. When Eleanor brought me cake after I moved in, she told me all about your shenanigans. And the fact that a lot of people think you can solve their problems. Did someone once ask you to find her rooster?”
“Ah, yes. That’s right. A woman named Sylvia asked me that. He was a special rooster, and she claimed he could tell the future.”
Miles laughed.
“He couldn’t, but one of the residents, who had a gambling problem, stole the rooster, so he could make a fortune betting.”
“Did he?”
“No. The rooster was not psychic, but either way, I brought the rooster back. This was years ago. The rooster is long gone now. There are still people who believe he was psychic.”
“Right. And the reason you felt the need to accept Sylvia’s proposition was because...?”
“I like helping people. And I like mysteries. Easy choice. Besides, you can’t judge me. You just asked me for help yourself.”
He took a moment to think about this. “I’m afraid you’re right. Oh, well, live and learn.”
I smiled and shook my head.
We finished our drinks and then he walked me to the front door. I already had two boxes full, and he said he’d take care of them. The dinner date with his parents was this Friday, and when he said it like that, I got nervous. I really was going to meet his parents. And pretend to be his girlfriend. Then again, it would probably be good experience for a novel. I think.
Halfway to my bookshop, I bumped into someone. She was staring at the ground, and when her eyes met mine, she started crying. It was Rachel.
I put my hand on her arm and made soothing sounds. I waited for her to calm down. So far the noises she made could only be understood by dogs.
She sniffed a few times and took a deep breath. “The p—police just let me go.” She let out another sob. “They had no evidence, but they said I couldn’t leave. They think I did it. Me. Can you believe it? I’ve had mice in my attic for years because I didn’t want to kill them. Do they honestly think I would bash someone’s skull in?”
I gasped. “Cause of death was blunt force trauma?”
She looked at me as if I’d hit my head.
“Sorry, yes, no. Terrible. Terrible of them.”
“Exactly. I wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Then she smacked her arm. “Blasted mosquitoes,” she murmured. “Anyway, I know it has nothing to do with you, but I just had to vent. Do you believe I killed him?” She took an eager step closer, her brown eyes searching mine.
“I simply don’t know. I’m keeping my options open,” I said. And it was the wrong thing to say, because she started crying again.
This was becoming a very long day.
“It was a very short one for Carl Scranton,” Detective Black said.