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SOPHIE LEANED AGAINST the main door at the south of the building, taking in the gentle spring midday sun and let out a sigh of relief as the police packed up their white gazebos. Hopefully they had what they needed now and would get off her land. She had neither love nor hate for them. They were public servants doing a job but she’d rather them do it somewhere else.
Detective Wood in a navy skirt suit and white blouse strode up the gravelled driveway toward her. What a surprise, Wood wanted to interrogate her again.
“Lady Haye,” Wood said like she was relishing the fact she could annoy her. “I have a few more questions for you.”
Would “no comment” or “go away” work? Doubted it, so she flicked her gaze up and down Wood instead. She loved her job by the energy in her stride. Good for her.
“I’m used to being a DS,” Wood said, halting beside her and looking out onto the lawn. “I worked under the best DI you could wish to meet . . . but they’re retired now and I have to fill their shoes . . .” She sighed. “I started off on the wrong foot. I know that. But you could have a good reason for staying silent.”
Sophie merely flicked an eyebrow. Change of tactics?
“It’s quite some view you have here,” Wood said and gazed out.
Sophie nodded. The Haye Willow-Blossom was a beautiful tree that her great-great-grandfather had cultivated. It was starting to blossom and bloom into its vibrant green, so thick that its hanging branches would obscure the mighty trunk from view. It was a masterpiece of nature perfectly situated in the middle of a perfect sunken expanse of lawn. It reflected in the glass-like lake which had a Grecian statue of a muscled soldier with helmet inset into a fountain in its centre. Not a bad view at all.
“My old DI drilled into me how she treated everyone we dealt with no matter who they were.” Wood turned to keep one eye on her and one on the police packing up. “Respect, Empathy, Supportiveness, Positiveness, Openness, Non-judgmental attitude, Straightforward talk and Equals talking to each other.”
Then her old DI had read a psychology manual on relationship building.
Wood smiled like it was a good memory. She clearly had adored her old boss. “We have acronyms for everything, of course.”
Sophie could see it; yes, because the usual interrogation hadn’t worked, Wood was going to punish her by boring her to tears. This was why her grandfather had carried his pistol around.
“I’ve been called in because I worked a lot of high profile cases with my boss and you’ve had two murders on your estate in a few months . . . but when I’ve looked back further, there were reports of people going missing when you were younger too.” Wood had researched her then. “You understand that, as the lead on this case, I need to understand the background.”
Sophie strolled over the lawn toward the crime scene—maybe Wood would take the hint and bother someone else—and stared at where the vehicles had chewed up an entire hundred yards or so. Jake may shoot the police for her.
“Lady Haye,” Wood said like she could demand anything of her. “You understand that I want to find out the truth?”
“Do you?” She raised an eyebrow, checking out the gouges in her lawn.
“Yes. One woman was murdered here before you left, your brother was critically injured and you disappear for what, nineteen years?” Wood walked around to stand in front of her, keeping her body language neutral. “Then your parents are murdered, your brother is murdered and you happen to come out of hiding to inherit the estate.” She tried to hold Sophie’s gaze. “And now, an heiress whose family looked set to take over half of the Haye industries is shot on your estate . . .” She furrowed her brow. “And the man who tried to oust you from hiding just so happens to have turned up dead on your doorstep.”
What man had tried to oust her? Was Wood looking for a reaction? She wasn’t going to get one.
The flowerbed was chewed up. Her great-great-grandfather had collected species from all around the globe. His favourite was the Haye flower. Its petals white tipped, purple inset with a gold splash in the centre. They hadn’t started to breach the soil yet but they’d been cared for, watered, and grown for over a hundred years. Chewed.
“I can understand how difficult this must be for you,” Wood said, trying to keep her voice calm but an undercurrent of irritation shone through.
“It’s devastating. Do you have any idea how much those plants cost?” Sophie knelt beside the soil. Jake would shoot someone when he found out. Best to keep him away until the police were gone.
“Lady Haye, this matter is more important than some weeds,” Wood snapped and stepped onto the soil to glare down at her. “People have been killed on your property.”
Sophie stared at the soil. Was Wood in her prize flowerbed? She turned back to the house and fixed the guard on the south door with the best “get here or I’ll beat you” stare.
He scurried over, dreadlocks swinging. “Ma’am?”
“Escort the detective out.” She waved her hand to dismiss them both and turned back to the flowerbed.
“Detective, it’s this way,” the guard said. He sounded barely out of his teens even if he was polite.
“Detective inspector,” Wood snapped. Who’d got under whose skin? “I’ll find out the truth, Lady Haye.”
“Isn’t that your job?” It was a cheap shot but it was better than having Jake shoot her and bury her in the flowerbed. She’d make the soil too acidic anyway.
Wood kicked the soil from her shoe and stomped off, the security guard following behind.
“Jake, trust me. I would let you shoot if we could get away with it.” She looked up and fixed on Jake scowling from behind a nearby tree. “Any idea if we can salvage it?”
He skulked over, glare on Wood’s retreating back. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I got them all up before they showed.” He smiled at her, pulling his flat cap from his head. “They’re all safe in the greenhouse.”
She beamed at him. “Good man.”
He blushed and strangled his cap. “They picked over most things,” he said with a scowl, “but I took pictures, drew out what they did.” He tapped his head with a wiry finger. “Ground is dusty though, no tracks.”
“Any ideas?” She glanced over her shoulder. Wood stomped up to another woman and they headed out of the gate.
“Back in the trees. One of the mulchy corners got churned up. Looks like a quad.” He pulled out his phone and showed her pictures.
“Someone would have heard it at night.” Therefore they must have used it during the day. “Sure it wasn’t from someone in the shooting club?”
Jake shook his head. “It’s the north east side, near the moors.”
“Did you check the wall?”
“Not yet, but I will, ma’am. Just need to take Morgan.” He smiled and then squeezed his hat. Hmmm. Raquel wasn’t the only one fond of her then.
“And why is that?” She held his gaze.
“Morgan said that she is set on making sure you an’ all the estate is safe.” He shrugged and rubbed at his stubbled head. “I believe her. She’s got a good nose and heart.”
Not to mention a swaying stride that was hard to ignore.
“Did you tell the police about the tracks?” She tidied up her cuffs and popped open the top button on her shirt as the warmth built.
“Never.” Jake looked up at her, shock in his eyes. “I covered them.” He pulled something from his pocket. “Found this near the tracks, along with some blood. Not sure if it was planted.”
She took the Dictaphone and squeezed his brawny shoulder. “Set up cameras in the forest, around and inside the shooting club and near that north wall.” She glanced back at the house. “Unobtrusively, yes? Morgan doesn’t need to know we’re keeping an eye.”
He grinned up at her. “Ma’am.” He glared at the tracks. “Lot like catching pests.”
She met his eyes and smiled. “Yes, and we know what to do with those.”