“He said he’s down here on business.” Freddie sipped her juice. “It will probably be nothing, but don’t business men normally stay in big hotels, not tiny guest houses? And how often do their wives come along for the ride instead of staying home doing the school run?”
“None that I know of. As cozy as this place is, it does seem a little strange. Maybe he has an aversion to big hotels.” Jason nodded in agreement, mopping up the egg yolk with a slice of toast. “Or maybe he just likes Mrs. Bowman’s cooking. It’s second to none.”
“Strange isn’t the word I’d use for it.” She looked at her empty plate. “But you’re right about the food. If that was breakfast, roll on lunch.”
“You always were fond of your food.” He finished and then drained his juice. “Want me to bring my camera as well?”
“Yes, please. I need to go back to my room and pick up my cardigan before we leave, too.” Freddie lowered her voice. “Let’s make a quick exit before he starts up a conversation. I really don’t want to be told we make a lovely couple again.”
“He said that?” Jason pushed his chair back and stood.
“Not in so many words, but he did refer to you as my boyfriend. Don’t worry. I set him right on that score. You’re an old friend I haven’t seen for years, and we’re on holiday catching up with each other.”
She pushed back from the table, taking care not to hit Nick Steele this time—a little too late, as Nick got to his feet at the same time.
“Miss Price. How are you this morning?”
Jason watched as Freddie shot the man a charming smile and shook the outstretched hand. She really was good at this.
Just wish she’d smile at me like that, but I guess I blew any chance of that fifteen years ago. If only things were different...
“Mr. Steele, I’m good. Let me introduce my friend, Jason North.”
The man’s dark gaze sent a surge of revulsion and apprehension through Jason. His skin crawled and the hair rose on the back of his neck as well. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Steele.”
“And yours. Are you staying here long?” There was a hint of an accent.
“A few days, we’re not sure, yet.” He let go of the hand, resisting the urge to wipe it on his jeans.
“Are you here for work or pleasure?”
“All pleasure.” Jason smiled over at Freddie. “Just two good friends, enjoying a well earned break from work. If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a long day planned.” He turned, hoping Freddie would take the hint and follow him. The longer he was in the company of Mr. Steele, the more uncomfortable he felt.
Lord, is this just my imagination working overtime or is this feeling from You?
“Have a good day.”
“You, too.” Freddie picked up her bag and set it on her shoulder. She headed from the room, Jason following.
“So on the creepiness scale of one to ten...” she started.
“Are you reading my mind again?”
“No, I just know you too well, Jace. But yeah, like I said, I want to run a background check. There’s something about him that doesn’t ring true.”
“Having met him, I totally agree. I want a full check run, not just a cursory one.”
“Sure.” She moved away from him. “Mrs. Bowman, can I have a quick word?”
Mrs. Bowman stopped in the doorway to her part of the house. “Of course, Miss Price. What can I do you for?”
“A friend of my parents stayed here a few months ago and recommended we stay here. Gerald Rafferty, his name was. I don’t know if you remember him, but...”
“Of course I remember Mr. Rafferty. He stayed here until the sale of the cottage went through, and he could move in to it. He was a charming man. I remember he bought up one of the local businesses as well.”
“Can you remember which one? Or where he moved to? My parents lost his address and it would be good to catch up with him again if I can.”
“No, I can’t, I’m sorry. Tell you who might know, though. Mr. Steele. Those two were very friendly. They spent a lot of time together while Mr. Rafferty was here.”
Jason looked at Freddie then turned to Mrs. Bowman. Surely he’d misheard her. “I thought the Steeles are here on holiday?”
“No, they’ve been here six or seven months, now. I do very reasonable long term business rates. I can’t tell you anymore about Mr. Rafferty though, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, you’ve been very helpful. Thank you.” Freddie turned away and headed up the stairs. “We need to start making a list of things to look into. Rafferty bought a cottage
and
a business? That’s definitely not the actions of a man who was planning on going home.”
****
The drive down the twisty single track tarmac road to the harbor was hardly worth it, Freddie decided. It took a while to find somewhere to park. She got out of the car and put a hand over her eyes to shield them until her glasses darkened.
“I’ll go and get the parking ticket.” Jason headed across the parking lot.
“All right, I’ll stay here.” She put his camera and her cardigan into the rucksack and slung the bag sideways across her body.
Seagulls soared and wheeled above, crying mournfully to each other. Waves lapped against the harbor wall, and the smell of the ocean, fish and seaweed assailed her nostrils. The sun was warm, and she eased her shoulders enjoying the peace and beauty of the moment.
Jason came back and put the ticket on the dashboard, and then locked the car. He pulled his shades out of his jacket pocket and slipped them on. He held his hand out for the rucksack. “I’ll take that. Where do you want to go first?”
She shoved her glasses up and gave him the rucksack. “Thank you. I need to find an optician at some point. These are driving me nuts.”
“Sure.” He smiled as he shouldered the rucksack and shoved his hands into his pockets. “So which way?”
Freddie looked around then pointed to the exit sign. “That way.”
“No, really?” A wry smile crossed his face.
“Yes, really.” She set off towards the exit, Jason close behind her.
“I was thinking about that stuff in the box.” Jason spoke thoughtfully. “It could almost be mining equipment.”
“Mining equipment? Why would you say that?”
“Think about it. Paraffin and matches for the lamps, rope, and a pick axe.”
“That makes sense. But what about the black paint?”
“Marking the boxes maybe, I don’t know.” He glanced at her, a wry smile on his lips. “Maybe he was just into graffiti in a big way.”
“Like you were? Painting ’Freddie, will you marry me?’ all over the garage door.”
Jason laughed. “Your Dad was
so
not happy. Even after I offered to repaint the entire garage for him, I don’t think he ever forgave me.”
“He did forgive you. He just thought there was a more romantic way to propose than daubing black paint over someone else’s property. Like on one knee with a rose between his teeth, the way he did to Mum.”
“I can see the attraction in that. A mouthful of thorns aside.” They paused outside a souvenir shop and looked in the window. Jason gazed at her reflection. “Having theorized that it’s all mining equipment, we should take a look at a map. See if there are any mines along the shore line. The tape said he could hear the sea.”
Freddie picked up a huge conch shell and put it to her ear. “So can I. Maybe he had a shell against his ear when he said that.”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t think so somehow. Here, let me.”
“Sure.” She held out the shell. His fingers brushed against hers and she shivered.
“Are you all right? Not cold?”
“I’m fine. Just...memories, you know?”
“I know.” His voice softened. It was a long moment before Freddie tore her gaze away.
“Can you hear the sea, or am I just being silly?”
He listened and then smiled. “Yes, I can.” He turned the shell over, his long, slender fingers caressing its smooth, shiny surface. “It’s beautiful. Not a mark on it.”
“It’d look good on my mantelpiece. Unless you want it?”
“No, you saw it first.” He handed her the shell. “I’ll wait out here in the sunshine.”
“Sure, I won’t be long.”
Freddie headed inside the shop. Fishing nets hung from the ceiling, giving it a rustic look, enhancing the stale seaweed smell. More shells hung in strings on the walls. A whole shelf full of Cornish pixies drew her gaze, and she crossed over to it.
Each pixie had its own name and expression. Some sat cross legged on toadstools, some reclined next to them. Some were fishing, some mining and some just sat in the middle of a pixie ring. She smiled as she found one called Jason. Sitting cross legged on a toadstool, it had a huge grin on its face and a very cheeky wink, its green cap pulled down over one ear. On impulse she picked it up and moved down the shelf a little. She’d give it to him later.
Wishing she’d picked up a basket, Freddie kept walking down the aisle. She added a box of fudge and a bag of gem stones to her growing pile, before heading to the cashier. She put the things on the counter and smiled at the old man standing behind it.
He smiled back. “
Myttin da
.”
Guessing that was Cornish for hello or something similar, Freddie responded. “Hello.” She looked at the stand next to the till. The sign read ‘locally made’ and several pendants hung off of it. She reached out and touched one.
“Pretty ain’t they? An’ each one unique.” The old man’s broad Cornish accent was so thick she could barely understand what he said.
“Really? They are beautiful. Are the stones local, too?”
“Aye. From Baldhu mine ‘bout five mile from ‘ere. Agate an’ topaz mainly, but a few others. Was tin once upon a time, but t’new owner found all sorts down there.”
“I see. How long has he been finding these?” Freddie twisted the stand, unable to choose, trying not to appear too interested in what he was saying.
“Five year. Turn a tidy profit, too, I’d say. No’ tha’ local folk saw none o’ it.”
A red stone, encased in a silver swirl, caught her gaze. She picked it up and ran her fingers over it. “What’s this? I don’t think it’s ruby.”
“Firestone. Them’s real rare. On the expensive side, too.”
“It’s beautiful. I’ll take it.” She pulled out her wallet as the man wrapped her goods and rang them up.
“Might be the last. He’s no’ bin aroun’ in a while.”
“Oh?” She slid her card into the slot on the card reader.
“Him or his associate. Mebbe they moved on, selling elsewhere.”
“Perhaps. Was he local?” Freddie typed in her PIN number, her mind working furiously. Surely it wasn’t going to be that easy?
“Nay, bought out the family. Kept them on, mind, but an outlander nonetheless.”
Taking a deep breath, Freddie decided to try fishing. “My father’s uncle worked in a mine around here somewhere. It was owned by the same family for generations. Maybe it was the same one.”
“Aye, the only one aroun’ ‘ere were owned by Garran Tirrel. Nowt but tin ‘til the outlander took over.”
“That was the one.”
“Aye…small world, ain’t it?”
“It is. Thank you. Bye.” Freddie put her card away and picked up her shopping. On impulse, she took one of the cards from the top of the pendant display.
“
Dyw genes
.”
Freddie headed to the door, glancing at the card in her hand, not believing what it was saying.
Gerald Rafferty, Baldhu Mines, Inc.
****
Jason checked his watch again. He took one step toward the door when Freddie came out clutching a bag. “I thought you got lost in there. I was about to send out a search party.”
“Not quite.” She smiled at him. “Got chatting to the shop owner and found out some things. And I bought you something.”
“Bought me something?” Surprise filled him with a touch of guilt. “What is it?”
Freddie rummaged in the bag and smiled as she handed him the pixie. “He shares your name and smile.”
“Thank you.” Jason ran his fingers across it. “He’s cute.” He slid the pixie into his pocket. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s bought me in a long time.” Actually it was the only thing anyone had bought him in a long time that wasn’t specifically birthday or Christmas. “How about I buy you an ice cream, and you can tell me what you found out?”
“Sounds good.”
He led her along the cobbled street to the small ice cream shop. He ordered two Cornish ice cream cones with a chocolate flake. She smiled as he handed her both while he paid. “They’re not both yours.”
“Ohhhhh.” Freddie pretended to pout, and then smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The sunshine was too warm, and he slid out of his jacket before holding out a hand for the cone. He looked around. “Let’s go sit down and admire the view.” He tilted his head and led her across the street to perch on the wall. He set his jacket on the wall beside him and the rucksack by his feet. “So spill.”
Freddie sat beside him and swung her legs. She licked the ice cream before answering. “First off, I spent a small fortune in there. The shop is amazing. It’s chock full of the tiniest knick-knacks.” She licked the cone again. “Then, by the till, I found this stand of jewelry. Pendants, earrings and stuff. All mined locally, apparently. The shopkeeper was at pains to point out each one was unique.”
Jason watched her body language. Had her mind made the same connection? Or was he reading too much into this? They talked about a mine and mining equipment and then stones from a local one turn up. Surely it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“I couldn’t resist buying one.” She reached into the bag and pulled out the pendant, unwrapping the tissue paper with her free hand. “Look. It’s exquisite.”
“That is lovely. Must have cost you a pretty penny.” He took it and examined it closely. “This is mined locally?”
“Yeah, Baldhu mine, five miles down the road. And it wasn’t that expensive.”
“Here, let me put it on for you. Hold this a sec.” He handed her his ice cream and reached to fasten the pendant around her slim neck. His fingertips brushed against the silky skin. He saw goose bumps rise and grinned. “Did I just make you shiver, Flynster?”
Freddie screwed her nose up and shifted slightly. “Yes, you did. For that I get to eat your flake.”