“I’m never walking the coastal path again. Ever. It’s cursed.” Motts huddled on the small bench at the top of the stairs, grumbling under her breath. She shivered despite the warm afternoon sun. “Oh yes, walking is brilliant for you. All the dead bodies are wonderful for my mental health.”
“Ms Mottley? Motts?”
“Inspector Ash.” She tried to muster a smile for him. “How’s your Marnie?”
Detective Inspector Perry Ash was one of the few police officers based in their little village. Life in Polperro was so different from being in London. His wife, Marnie, ran the local bridal shop; she’d become good friends with Motts and frequently sold her paper bouquets to her customers.
“Hughie’s going to help you home. It looks like you could use a warm cuppa, but don’t let him make it. He’ll burn your tongue off and put hairs on your chest.” He waved toward the tall teddy bear of a constable, who’d been one of the first people to greet her when she arrived in the village. “The fancy London detective can answer my questions for now.”
How does a cup of tea put hairs on your chest?
“Be nice. We can’t all be born in Cornwall. I might’ve been, but neither of my grandparents were. They settled here from Jamaica.” Hughie nudged the inspector with his elbow before offering his arm to Motts. “Don’t you listen to the inspector. I’m a dab hand at making the perfect pot of tea.”
“The wolves are going to descend.”
“Wolves?”
“Vina, Nish, River, and probably even Marnie.” Motts knew her friends and cousin had probably already heard about the excitement. News travelled faster than the wind in a little village. “Maybe you can protect me?”
“From Marnie Ash? I’d sooner take a header off the cliff. Terrifying woman.” Hughie grinned at her. “Nothing wrong with your friends circling around you. We’re a small village. We care about each other. They’re more like overexcited puppy dogs and not wolves.”
Motts shrugged a shoulder and kept her gaze focused on the well-trodden dirt trail. “They’ll hover—again.”
“Well, you did stumble on another body.”
“I didn’t exactly walk into the first one.” She didn’t consider digging up a body in a garden stumbling. “I hope this doesn’t become a trend.”
They made it back to her cottage in no time at all. Hughie played sentry by the door while she got the kettle going. He staunchly refused tea but did sneak a few biscuits from the tin.
No amount of tea or lemon curd on toast could erase the vision of the body in the sea. Motts curled up on her sofa with Cactus, a blanket, and a second cup. Hughie left her alone to head into the village.
I wonder how long it’ll be before the reinforcements he’s going to summon arrive.
Cactus remained resolutely in her lap, refusing to budge. He hadn’t even attempted to steal a sip of her tea or a bite of toast. She gently massaged his head and ears.
“We seem to have wandered into yet another mystery.” Motts glanced down at Cactus when he meowed loudly. “Agreed. A second snack is in order. We’re going to need a distraction if your aunties and uncle descend on the cottage at the same time.”
To her surprise, Hughie returned with only one person. He was carrying a tray. Marnie followed behind him; she immediately came over to offer Motts a hug, which she graciously turned onto Cactus when Motts waved her off. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Motts peered curiously at the covered tray. “What’d you bring?”
“Cake,” Hughie answered for Marnie. He lifted the lid off and offered one of the brightly coloured citrusy treats. “Think she made a bastardised version of the Maria Luisa cake.”
“He’s been watching Bake Off again,” Marnie teased.
When his phone rang, Hughie set the tray down on the coffee table and stepped outside to answer. Marnie and Motts both stayed quiet, trying to listen in to whatever update he was getting.
Hughie rolled his eyes knowingly at them when he stepped into the cottage. He pocketed his phone. “We’ve called in Detective Inspector Herceg from the cold case unit in Plymouth.”
“Cold case?” Motts ignored Cactus who’d leapt up into her arms. “How? I found the body a few hours ago in the sea.”
“We’ve identified the body already. The victim disappeared three years ago. I shouldn’t be telling you this without DI Ash’s permission.”
“How did a person who went missing three years ago wind up in the sea today?” Marnie’s question echoed the one in Motts’s mind. “It’s highly unlikely to have been bashing about in the sea for so long only to suddenly appear now.”
Motts agreed with her assessment. She’d seen enough of the body to think the person had been killed within the past twenty-four hours—not years ago. “Who were they?”
“Can’t say.” Hughie shook his head and cut Marnie off with a mock stern glare. “My lips are sealed. You can ask your husband. He’s on his way.”
Steeling herself to deal with loads of people, Motts went into the kitchen to start the kettle. She pulled down her mismatched mugs. Inspector Ash wouldn’t be the only person to descend on her cottage.
Given the time of day, Griffin Brews, the coffee shop run by Nish, Vina, and their parents, wouldn’t be too busy. The twins would come running to check on her, probably with food. Their mum, Leena, always wanted to feed everyone.
Must be a mum thing. Everyone’s mum always seems convinced none of us knows how to feed ourselves.
Of everyone in the village, Motts had known the Griffins the longest. She’d met them years ago when she’d come on holiday with her parents. Her mum and dad had originally come from Cornwall, and they’d spent many vacations all along the coast over the years.
Cadan Griffin had met his wife in India when he’d been a dashing Cornish-Indian cricket player, and she’d turned his head as a glamorous Bollywood star. They’d returned to his mum’s hometown to open their bakery. Their twins, Pravina and Anish, had become instant friends with Motts when they’d met as children.
Never imagined years later we’d be ex-girlfriends turned into best friends living in the same village.
Faced with yet another murder mystery.
At least this one wasn’t buried in my garden.
“I best get back to the shop.” Marnie interrupted her thoughts. She was pocketing her phone while she got to her feet. “Take your time with the cakes. I’ve plenty of those trays. My mum-in-law keeps finding them for me. Why she thinks I need thirty of the blasted things, I’ll never know.”
“Marnie.”
“You just settle in for a cosy afternoon.” Marnie inched towards the door.
“Marnie.” Motts had to carefully set her tea down and dislodge Cactus before racing after her friend. She caught up to Marnie as she opened the door. “Well, hello, you three.”
Vina dragged her into a hug, sending a poof of flour into the air. “We rushed from the café.”
“I can tell.” Motts pushed her away, then brushed off the dusting of white on her arms. “Maybe a change of clothes before you rush over to invade my space?”
“Rude. Ungrateful wretch.” River eased between them, dragging Nish, his boyfriend of several months, behind him. “And here we all abandoned work at the drop of a hat for you.”
“You love us despite our mess.” Vina had dusted off the flour and gathered her long black hair into a loose bun. Motts turned as she went to follow River and Nish toward the kitchen. “My brother and your cousin have reached the disgusting sweet nothing stage of their relationship. You should’ve heard them on the drive up to the cottage.”
“Says the woman who stayed up until half ‘not even coffee will help her wake up’ in the morning.” Nish glared over his shoulder at his sister. “She was muttering in French with her girlfriend.”
“Does Vina know French?”
“Enough to make Amma blush.” Nish dodged away from Vina when she lunged at him. “What? Am I wrong?”
“You are incredibly wrong.” Vina straightened her stylish jumper. “He’s been insufferable all day. Maybe someone switched his coffee for espresso.”
“Is this what sex does to people?” Motts wrinkled her nose at the bubblier-than-normal Nish. She was glad at times like this to be asexual; she could enjoy romance without the dramatics and unnecessary noises. “Don’t see the attraction.”
The good-natured banter lasted until tea was poured, cakes were distributed, and seats had been found in the living room. Motts had retreated to an armchair with Cactus curled up beside her. Nish and River crowded into the other one, while Vina stretched out on the sofa like a princess on a chaise lounge.
Motts sipped her tea and pointedly avoided the not so subtle gazes sent her way. While she might not be brilliant at assessing body language or facial expression, the worry and sympathy was practically a living, breathing being in the room. She hated it.
“Have you messaged Teo?” River moved over to sit on the arm of her chair.
“He might be busy.” Motts disliked being the first person to reach out—even via text, and even with family or Teo. “He’s investigating. I’ve no doubt I’m on the list of people to talk to, since I found the body.”
Again. Another body. I’m running quite a tally. Three dead bodies in one lifetime.
“Text him, Motts.” River nudged her gently. “He’ll be here before long and probably wonder why you didn’t reach out to him when it happened.”
“Will he?”
“Definitely,” River promised.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t.” Motts briefly met her cousin’s gaze before turning her eyes back to Cactus, who purred contentedly. “Why?”
“It’s a weird neurotypical thing. Just trust me. He’ll worry if you don’t text.” River grabbed her mobile from the coffee table and handed it over. “Just say you’re home safe with us. So he doesn’t worry.”
“Weirdly weird weirdness.”
“I’m aware that we’re odd.” River snorted in amusement.
It was later in the evening when her friendly tormenters left the cottage. Motts chased them out with promises to text if she had nightmares. She wouldn’t, but they’d be back in the morning to check on her.
They’d fallen into a similar routine after her near tumble off the cliff. Motts appreciated their concern. She did wish they’d trust her to reach out if it was necessary.
“I thought they’d never leave.” Motts locked up behind them, turning on her security system. She’d used it religiously since Teo installed it for her. “Why don’t I scrounge up your supper and a snack for myself? We can catch up on YouTube videos.”
She had just set Cactus’s bowl down when the doorbell rang. Bugger. Checking the front of the cottage via the app on her phone, Motts wasn’t surprised to see Teo waiting patiently for her. He waved at the camera.
Motts left Cactus to his meal and went to open the door. “Did you identify the body?”
Teo ducked down to step through the doorway, squeezing by her to lift Cactus up when he trotted over to say hello. “Your welcome needs some work.”
“Cactus handles the greeting. I pay him in catnip, tuna, and walks in the garden.” Motts followed Teo and her cat through to the kitchen. He held Cactus comfortably in his arms while she went to fill up the kettle. “Well? Have you identified the victim?”
“Inspector Ash believes the victim is Nadine O’Connell, a kindly grandmother who’d been bedridden yet managed to go missing three years ago.” Teo leaned against the counter, still petting Cactus gently. “They called me since I’m the nearest cold case detective.”
“Not technically the nearest at the time.”
“Ah, yes. The Londoner.”
Motts set the kettle down and flicked it on, then peered over at him. “Why are you saying ‘Londoner’ like a curse word?”
“I’m not.” Teo crossed his arms, dislodging an unhappy Cactus, who prowled away to finish his dinner. “What? I’m not.”
“You definitely said Londoner like you meant wanker.” Motts eyed the mountain of a detective inspector, taller than even Hugh. His brown eyes appeared tired, and his usual carefully coiffed greyish-black hair was mussed up. “The detective seemed nice enough to me.”
“I’m sure he did.”
Motts’s frown deepened “You sound strange.”
“I’m confident the London detective will be nothing but professional.” Teo shrugged.
“Right.”