The Fall Girl (12 page)

“Oh, aye?” Bruce drained what must have been his third pint.

A certain tension hung over the table.

“We had no idea about this, but she left the cottage and... well, everything she owned to Jackie, and by the terms of the will, if Jackie died, it all went to Rowana.” Steve smiled
at his younger daughter. She didn’t smile back.

“So, your wife...?” Bruce’s wiry eyebrows were interrogative.

“Died. Yes. Sixteen years ago.”

“Tragic.” Bruce rubbed his chin. “Very tragic. Lost my wife, too. Know how it feels...”

Lexy and Milo exchanged a glance.

“Aye, well,” Bruce went on, contemplating his empty pint mug. “These things ’appen. If they don’t kill you, they cure you.” He turned to Ward. “Get
’em in, lad.”

More drinks arrived.

The conversation turned to rare sheep breeds, a subject clearly close to Bruce’s heart, and a safe one given the minefield of choices.

During the course of the conversation, Lexy felt herself slumping in her seat. Next to her, Steve gave a complicit smile.

Ward’s dark head was bent towards Gabrielle. “... yes, it must have been tough losing your business like that. No wonder you’re...”

Tyman was chatting to Rowana. She looked like a cornered bird. She jerked her head towards the Ladies.

“’Scuse me,” Lexy murmured, squashing past Steve.

“Well, what did you find out?” Rowana demanded through the cubicle wall.

“You can relax.” Lexy buttoned her jeans. “I don’t think there was anything supernatural about Elizabeth’s death.” She pushed the flush button.

“Really?” Rowana was waiting for her by the row of sinks. “How do you know for certain?”

Lexy pumped soap on her hands, watching the girl in the mirror.

“Because I reckon someone from this world was involved.”

Rowana visibly paled. “So it wasn’t an accident either? I knew it wasn’t just a coincidence! You think she was... murdered?”

They were on dangerous ground here. What was Lexy going to say? Yeah, Rowana, I reckon the boys from the farm killed her. You know, the ones out there buying us drinks. And, get this, my friend
Milo, who is actually a cop, is starting to think it was your dad who did it.

“Hold your horses,” she said. “It could still be a coincidence. Might well have been a burglar she surprised. I mean, Bruce was saying there’d been some break-ins in the
area.” He might even have been telling the truth, Lexy thought. There were always break-ins, in every area. You only had to pick up a local paper to see that. “So, I’m just
collecting evidence at the moment.” She gave an easy smile. “What you need to do is stop feeling guilty.”

Rowana looked sceptical. Lexy was going to have to do more than just reassure the girl that the Goddess Helandra didn’t do it. She was going to have to prove that someone else did.

She ran a hand through her hair. “Better go back.”

“Do we have to? I’m fed up with Simon trying to chat me up.”

“His name’s Tyman. Is he hassling you?”

“No, not really. He’s just being... talkative.”

“Keep calling him Simon. He’ll get the message.”

Ward and Gabrielle were still deep in conversation when Lexy and Rowana got back.

“Same again?” Bruce jumped up, his hand in his pocket. “I were just about to get another round in.”

“I’ll just have a half this time.” Lexy made sure she sat between Tyman and Rowana. She felt as if the manoeuvre hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. In fact, he was watching
her intently.

“Er... you haven’t got any big black dogs on the farm that run along the beach between here and Clopwolde at dawn, have you?” she asked. Bit of an inane question, but it was
hard to know what to say to someone she’d recently decided might be a murder suspect.

He looked startled, as did Rowana. “No. Why – have you seen one?”

Ward glanced over, his dark eyes wary.

“Three times. I’m told it’s a local ghost dog called Old Shuck.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard of him. But you think this creature’s for real?” Tyman looked genuinely concerned.

“It has drumming feet.”

She saw Ward’s lips forming a sarcastic curl. He turned back to Gabrielle.

“A hoofed dog?” Tyman raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm – doesn’t seem right, does it?” Lexy felt herself blush. “Which made me wonder if it’s something else.”

“Don’t think there’s anything on the farm that meets that description,” said Tyman. “I mean, we’ve got some pretty rare breeds, but none of them that
I’d call ghosts.” He grinned. “Not a bad idea, though – a herd of ghost cattle would be dead cheap to feed. Dead – get it?”

“Ha-ha,” said Lexy. “So, what made you go in for rare breeds?”

“It was Dad, really. He was brought up among old British sheep breeds when he lived on the Yorkshire moors, and he always had this thing about wanting to make sure they didn’t die
out. He’s basically a traditionalist, and it’s rubbed off on Ward and me. I like the idea of a working farm that preserves the old values.”

Tyman knew his stuff, and waxed lyrical about Pilgrim’s Farm. Lexy could imagine how good he would be with visitors to the place. In fact, she was finding it difficult to maintain
antipathy towards him, despite her suspicions. She wondered if the other two, Bruce and Ward, were the real movers and shakers in this mystery surrounding Four Winds Cottage.

“Ought to be going now, girls.” Steve drained his glass. Gabrielle glanced at Ward, and gave her father a disappointed look.

“Me too.” Lexy looked around for Kinky. He was gazing at Tyman, a shard of potato crisp on his nose.

“Sure you don’t want to book in the guest house, lass, now you’re in the village?” Bruce was still trying.

“No, I’ll be fine at the cottage.”

“Rather you than me.”

Lexy shrugged. “The worst thing that’s going to happen tonight will be Kinky bringing up cheese and onion flavoured crisps all over the living room rug.”

The farmer guffawed, but his face was uneasy.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re going to be all right?” Steve touched Lexy’s arm. “I don’t like the thought of you being up there on your own with no lights,
or anything.”

He was so kind and concerned that Lexy felt unexpected stab of envy of Gabrielle and Rowana, for having a living, caring father. Their eyes held for a second longer than they should have done,
and she realised that it wasn’t only the father-figure that she found attractive about Steve Paterson.

“Honestly, I’ll be fine,” she reiterated.

“Well, if you’re sure...” He and his daughters moved off, Milo silently following behind.

The Gallimores stood by the door, saying goodbyes to everyone as if they owned the place.

It was dark outside, and the wind had got up again, setting Rowana’s long hair whipping around her face. Gabrielle had tucked her strawberry blonde barnet into a hood.

“We’re parked down the road,” said Steve. “Good to meet you, Lexy. Thanks for keeping things going at the cottage. We’ll be over there tomorrow morning, so we can
talk then.”

“Sure,” said Lexy. She watched them go, until the sound of a throat being cleared behind her reminded her that Milo was still there.

“Would you like... ?” he began.

The pub door opened again, spilling light across the pavement, and Bruce and Ward came out, to be met with a ferocious blast.

“By god, it’s a regular cocking hurricane out ’ere.” Bruce clamped on his flat cap. “Hope you shut that chicken shed, lad. If they get out, ruddy things’ll be
sailing through the air like cruise missiles.”

“Don’t worry, they’re safe and sound.” Ward turned to Lexy. “Need a lift?”

She started in surprise. “No, it’s OK, thanks. Milo’s dropping me off.”

Ward shrugged and turned back to his father. “Where’s Tyman?”

“In the khazi.”

“I’m dropping you off, am I?” said Milo, at her shoulder.

“Do you mind? You were going to ask, anyway.” Lexy stumbled against the kerb, letting go of Kinky’s lead. The dog waited patiently while she fumbled in the gutter.

“Suppose it’s better than you going back with the Gallimores like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve had one cider too many.”

“Well, excuse me. I didn’t realise you were counting.”

“All that bravado stuff about staying in the cottage.”

“That wasn’t the cider speaking, I assure you.”

“So you really are staying there? Up at the old Bates place?”

“Don’t you start.” Lexy began to follow him to the car.

She glanced back. Bruce and Ward were standing a little way up the road by a Land Rover, talking in low voices.

“Can you wait for me?” Lexy pressed Kinky’s lead into Milo’s hand, and with the policeman’s expletive ringing in her ear, she turned on her heel and ran quietly
back, keeping to the shadowy doorways. They were standing with their backs to her. Bending double, the cider making her bold, she crept up to within hearing distance.

“... sooner or later she’s going to find out. Same as Elizabeth did. I tell you, we’ve got to do something.” That was Bruce.

“Like what?” Ward hissed.

“Longer she stays up there, the worse it gets for us.”

“I know that. It’s not like we haven’t tried everything possible.”

Their voices became lower, and, frustrated, Lexy crept even closer.

“... this is going to have to go to plan B, then, isn’t it?” Ward’s voice was grim. “We’ll just have to deal with her the hard way. It’s the only
option.”

Lexy froze, the wind whipping past her.

“I don’t like it, son, but I think you’re right. Any road, keep Tyman away from her. You know what he’s like.”

“Shut up – he’s coming now.”

Lexy pressed back into a doorway as the pub door opened once again, and Tyman came out, pulling his jacket around him. The Land Rover doors slammed shut and tyres crunched on loose gravel.

Forcing her legs to move, Lexy scuttled back down the road.

“At last,” said Milo. “Said your fond farewells to the Gallimores, have you?”

“What?” She stared at him through the dark.

“Hallelujah. Now perhaps we can go.” He fired the engine.

Lexy sank into the passenger seat. Did she hear Bruce and Ward right? Was Ward really threatening to do away with her if she didn’t leave the cottage? Surely not. But what else could he
mean by ‘deal with her the hard way?’ She stared at her wide-eyed reflection in the passenger side window.

Sooner or later she’s going to find out. Same as Elizabeth did.
What did Elizabeth find out? What was up at Four Winds Cottage? Lexy’s skin began to crawl.

And why did they want to keep Tyman away from her? It was the second time Bruce had warned Ward about that.

As the car wound along the dark lanes, Lexy tried to control her thudding heart. She took some deep breaths. In out, in out. Right. She needed to do something about this. Needed to tell Milo.
And she needed to explain the situation in a coherent, sensible way. He already thought she was drunk. In fact, she was drunk. More drunk than she would have expected to be after a couple of pints
of cider. Must have been strong stuff. She tried to form the right words in her mind. They bustled around like startled sheep. Sheep jumping over a...

“Here you are then.”

“Wha... we’re here already? That was quick.”

“You were asleep.”

Lexy struggled upright in her seat. “Was the gate open at the farm?”

“Yes.”

“How did you know the way?”

“I’m a policeman.”

“D’you want to come in for a minute?”

“You’re inviting me into a house you’ve broken into?”

“Milo – the owner of the freaking cottage knows I’m here. So do the Gallimores. It’s not like I’m doing it behind anyone’s back.”

He gave her one of his weary looks and opened his door.

The darkness was absolute, and up on Freshing Hill, Four Winds Cottage was living up to its name. Lexy felt her way along the garden wall, her eyes nearly shut against the gale, calling to Kinky
to follow her. She heard Milo stumble and curse. Probably tripped over the poor mutt.

Feeling in her pocket, she located the key and unlocked the front door at the third attempt.

They tumbled in, and Milo struggled to get the door shut after them. Lexy tried the hall light. It didn’t work.

“Arseholes,” she muttered. “Well, they’re not getting me out of here.”

“What are you on about now?”

“Nothing. I’ll tell you later. Stay there and I’ll get the candles.”

“What – there’s still no electricity?”

“Yup.”

“Wind must have brought a line down. It happens all the time round here.”

Lexy felt her way up the stairs. “I think we’ll find it’s only affecting Four Winds Cottage.”

She groped for the candles in the guest bedroom and came back down. “Got any matches?”

“Somewhere,” She heard Milo’s jacket rustle. “Here you are.” A scrape and a flash.

“Can you light this?”

The wick sizzled and flared.

Milo’s face appeared in the circle of light.

“Is this candle an owl?”

“No. It’s a penguin.”

“Oh, yes. I see that now.”

“Come into the kitchen.” Lexy led the way.

She pulled up the blind and peered out in the direction of Pilgrim’s Farm, expecting to see all lights blazing. To her surprise, there was nothing of the sort there, just a dull glow.

She frowned. Perhaps there really had been a power cut. The wind was pretty mad, after all.

“I’d offer you a cup of tea, but...”

“Got anything else?”

“Wine?”

“Go on then.”

Lexy fetched the bottle of elderberry wine from the pantry.

Milo uncorked it, poured two glasses and raised one to his lips.

“Not bad. Now – are you going to tell me what’s going on with the Gallimores? What were they saying outside the pub?”

All of Lexy’s previously composed sentences decomposed.

“Those bastards are out to get me.”

“The Gallimores?”

“They want me out of here. Like they wanted Elizabeth Cassall out. Because she found something out about them.”

“What was in that cider?”

“Look – you know what I was saying earlier? In the pub?”