Deadfall (21 page)

He shook his head. If the truth were told he was having a little trouble focussing on anything just at that moment. There was a buzzing in his ears and his vision was a patchwork of dark and light.

Kicking his feet free of the stirrups, he swung his right leg back over Steamer's rump and slid to the ground, keeping hold of the saddle to steady himself as his knees threatened to give way under his weight. For three or four seconds the dark blotches were in danger of eclipsing the light ones completely, then they slowly cleared.

‘You were nearly half a minute inside the optimum! Hey, are you all right?' Josie put a hand on his arm.

‘Yeah. Just give me a sec.'

‘Perhaps I should have given
you
the oats,' Dee suggested, smiling broadly. ‘You look exhausted, but Steamer looks as though he could go round again.'

‘It would probably do him good!' Linc said with feeling. ‘He's a complete maniac!'

‘But he got round. You're a clever boy,' she told the horse, apparently writing off Linc's part in the achievement.

Once the formalities had been observed, Dee
happily led her ‘clever boy' off towards her lorry and the promise of a carrot, and Linc made his weary way back to find Ruth. Josie fell in beside him and slipped her arm through his.

‘Lean on me, if you like,' she offered. ‘You look all in.'

‘I should have had more doughnuts,' he joked, trying, nevertheless, not to use her as a support. ‘Wherever we go you seem to end up helping me home!'

Back at the lorry, Noddy and Magic were already loaded and contentedly munching hay. Ruth, Nikki and Sandy were all sitting on the lowered ramp enjoying the sun and eating ice creams.

‘How'd it go?' Ruth called. ‘We heard that you'd got round, but not much of the stuff before that. Was he good?'

‘In a manner of speaking,' Linc said. ‘He went clear anyway.'

‘Oh, well done!'

‘You look cream-crackered,' Sandy remarked. ‘Absolutely fished!'

‘
Fished?
' Ruth echoed, incredulously.

‘Fish pasted. Wasted,' Sandy supplied, adding proudly, ‘I made that one up myself.'

‘Actually it's quite descriptive,' Linc said. ‘Fished. I wouldn't mind but the horse looked as fresh as a daisy!'

Ruth drove the lorry on the homeward trip. It was only a small two-horse box and therefore not subject to HGV restrictions, and Linc was quite happy to leave the driving to her. Josie had to return, as she had come, in the E-type, but the kiss she had given
him on parting, albeit on the cheek, left him in a haze of pleasurable contentment.

On the way home, the three of them chattered lazily about anything and everything. Nikki hadn't heard about the fire at South Lodge Farm and was interested to learn of Jim Pepper's possible involvement.

‘I thought he'd moved away,' she said. ‘Until I saw him coming out of The Wheatsheaf the other day with that forester chap.'

‘Jack Reagan?' Linc asked sharply.

‘Is that his name? Big chap; dark curly hair? Yes, it
is
Reagan, isn't it? I remember now.'

‘And they were together?'

‘They seemed to be. Unless they just happened to come out at the same time. But, no – because Reagan kind of slapped him on the back as they parted. I didn't think much of it at the time, but I suppose it
was
a bit odd . . .'

‘When was this? Can you remember?'

‘Um . . . I'm not sure. I think I was on my way to the gym but I can't remember which day. It could have been Tuesday or Thursday. With Mum here my usual routine's gone to pot.'

‘So why the sudden interest in keeping fit?' Linc quizzed her. ‘Cris says you've got a personal trainer.'

‘Yes, Terry Fagan. He used to work as a bouncer for my father but he's a trained fitness instructor now.'

Ruth was impressed. ‘Wow! That's the
in thing
, isn't it? All the celebrities have them. A few years ago it was personal shrinks, now it's fitness coaches.' She put on a plummy voice. ‘No trainer? But, dahling, you must! Everybody has one.'

Nikki laughed. ‘It's not like that. I've known Terry for years. He moved down here and wanted a reference for a job at the Silver Pine, and it just went from there.'

That explained her show of affection for him outside the leisure centre, Linc thought, but he couldn't help wondering how far it had gone ‘from there'.

As Ruth parked the lorry in the Vicarage stableyard, the work began again. A one-day event, with its three separate components, is quite a strain on a horse and the tough nature of the cross-country course lays it open to all kinds of cuts, grazes and bruising. Noddy and Magic needed hosing down to remove the last traces of grease before having their legs meticulously inspected for signs of injury. Having satisfied themselves that none had been sustained, Linc and Ruth applied cooling poultices to Magic's slightly filled legs while Nikki made up a small, easily digestible bran mash for the horses.

With three of them on the job, the lorry was soon emptied and cleaned, and the tack wiped over, and with Ruth promising to give both horses another, more nutritious feed later, Linc left Noddy rugged up and munching on a haynet, and drove Nikki back to Farthingscourt.

‘Pity you didn't win anything,' she remarked after a few moments. ‘They all went so well. Even that mad thing you rode last!'

‘Steamer could be the best of the lot, if I could only get him settled. I'd like to try him in a different bit, but Dee says he's the same whatever you put in his mouth.'

‘Well,
I
wouldn't fancy riding him,' Nikki said.
When Linc had first met her she'd competed a little on a horse that her father had bought her, but had soon given up, freely admitting that she hadn't the nerve for eventing.

‘He's not a woman's ride,' Linc said. ‘I can't think why Dotty Dee ever bought him for her daughter. He's just too strong. I'm not at all sure he's not too strong for me. I'll have to go and see your fitness trainer!'

‘Well, you could. Why not?'

‘Time,' Linc answered succinctly, turning past Sykes's cottage into the drive.

‘So, how's it going between you and Josie?' Nikki enquired.

‘Okay, I think.'

‘Are you serious about her?'

‘It's early days,' he said cautiously. ‘But, yes. I think so.'

‘She's very pretty. So is Ruth. What about the one in hospital, is she pretty too?'

Linc considered this. ‘I think she will be. She's still growing up.'

‘Will you go on trying to find out who attacked her? Now they've warned you off, I mean.'

‘I don't know if there's much more I
can
do,' Linc told her frankly, as they swept over the bridge and round in front of the house to the courtyard beside.

‘But it hasn't put you off, has it?' she persisted. ‘You'll still go on trying?'

‘Yes, I suppose so.'

He switched the engine off and looked across at Nikki who looked concerned.

‘I think your father's right. You should leave it to
the police,' she said. ‘These people are obviously dangerous. You will be careful, won't you?'

‘I will,' Linc promised, quite touched. ‘I'm nobody's hero, I can tell you.'

SUNDAY WAS A
very busy day. The sun was out and visitor numbers were substantially up on the previous week as the holiday season began to get into full swing. School holidays made little difference to the takings at Farthingscourt, for the estate had so far managed to resist the commercial pressure to turn itself into the kind of all-purpose tourist attraction that appeals to the multitudes. Tearooms in part of the old kitchens and a picnic area beside the car park were its only concessions to the modern trend.

Linc had managed to pay Noddy an early visit, riding him out round the village at a walk to loosen his joints before turning him out into the Vicarage paddock for the morning. Ruth promised to fetch him in as soon as the heat and flies started to bother him, and Linc returned to his home and office.

By the time the last visitor had been seen off the premises, the show rooms checked for damage, loss and stowaways, and the part-time staff departed, Linc wanted nothing more than to stretch out on his
bed and sleep. Aside from the normal hassles of an opening day, his father had been more than usually difficult. Curt and hard to please, he'd made Linc pay all day for Saturday's sport.

He was wearily ascending the back stairs when his mobile trilled.

‘Damn!' he muttered, toying with the idea of turning it off unanswered but his conscience wouldn't let him. It might be important.

‘Yeah?'

‘Oh, dear, have you had a bad day?' It was Josie.

‘It's getting better,' he assured her. ‘Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.'

‘Well, I don't know if you're free, but we're having a barbecue and we wondered if you'd like to come . . .'

Linc hesitated, doing a mental inventory of his aches and pains and coming up with a depressing total.

‘Look, Josie, normally I'd love to but I really don't feel up to making polite conversation this evening.'

‘Well, you don't have to,' she said brightly. ‘It's only family. Oh, and Sandy's coming, but that's all. It's just such a lovely warm evening and we haven't done anything like this for absolutely ages with Abby being in hospital. You can crash out on the seat-swing or in the hammock and be waited on hand and foot.'

The idea was growing more alluring by the moment. Linc considered the alternative; a meal alone in his flat or with his father in his private dining room, which – in his present mood – wasn't the most cheery of prospects.

‘Okay, thanks. You've talked me into it,' he said. ‘What time?'

‘Whenever you're ready. Dad'll be ages getting the barbecue going if I know him.'

It was, in fact, a little over half an hour later when Linc arrived at the Vicarage having showered and changed. He was greeted with informal pleasure by Josie's mum, Rebecca, who accepted his gift of a bottle of white wine and ushered him through the house and out through the Victorian-style conservatory on to the patio at the back. Here, in spite of his daughter's pessimism, David Hathaway had the brick-built barbecue going strongly, and quantities of sausages, chops and kebabs already sizzling away with mouth-watering aromas.

Linc was met with a warm welcome, not only from the humans assembled there but also from the Hathaways' spaniels, Dorcas and Sukey, and the familiar wide-smiling, brindle form of Tiger.

‘Hello, rascals,' he said fondly to the dogs, and Tiger planted himself, predictably, on his foot.

‘I was going to leave him in the car,' Sandy told him, removing the dog. ‘But I was shouted down.'

‘Absolutely!' Ruth exclaimed. ‘In this house, dogs are people. We'd no more leave them out of the fun than we would Hannah and Toby. In fact,' she added with a mischievous sideways glance at her brother and sister, ‘we'd probably be more likely to shut
them
away!'

Linc grinned at the cries of indignation that greeted this, and moved forward to exchange kisses with Josie.

‘Come,' she instructed him, taking his arm and
leading him firmly across to the seat-swing by the garden wall. ‘Sit. I've told everyone you're fragile and on no account must you be asked to move.'

‘I'm not that bad!' Linc protested, embarrassed. ‘I was just feeling tired and a bit lazy, but I'm glad I'm here now.'

‘Truly?'

‘Truly,' he confirmed, sitting obediently on the cushions under the fringed canopy.

‘Good.' She smiled and his heart did cartwheels.

‘Grub up!' came the shout from the barbecue area, and Linc made to get up.

‘Oh, no, you don't!' Josie stated. ‘I'll get yours.'

‘Has anyone ever told you you're a bossy woman?'

‘Frequently, so you'd better get used to it! That is . . . if you want to,' she faltered, turning pink under her golden tan. ‘I'll go and get the food.'

Linc watched her go, enjoying the sway of her slim hips and the tantalising glimpses of long brown legs under the red and gold sarong she wore. He must still have been smiling a couple of minutes later when Sandy appeared with a laden plate and sat down on the other end of the swing.

‘I was going to say a penny for 'em,' he remarked. ‘But by the look on your face I'd say they were worth a lot more! Aren't you eating?'

‘Josie's getting it.'

‘Quite right. Start the way you mean to go on,' Sandy approved. ‘She says you're feeling a bit under the weather – nothing catching, I hope?'

‘No. Just tired.' Linc quickly moved his feet as Tiger tried to sit on them again.

Ruth approached with a plateful of kebabs and
garlic bread. She wore a floaty, gypsy-style outfit and no shoes, and Linc thought she seemed happier than he'd seen her look since her sister was attacked.

‘How's Abby today?' he asked as she sat down.

‘The doctors are really pleased with her,' Ruth replied. ‘They say her brain is very active – which is a good sign – and the wound on her head is healing well. I think it's just a matter of time.'

‘That's great.'

‘How's your investigation going?' Sandy asked Linc.

‘Very slowly,' he admitted. ‘I don't think I'm in old Sherlock's league.'

‘But you're still looking?'

‘For what it's worth. Actually, it will be interesting to see if Abby can remember anything herself, when she comes out of her coma.'

‘Do they think that's likely? That she'll remember, I mean.'

‘Probably not, I gather. Also, she was hit from behind, so it's quite possible she never saw the thieves at all.'