Downward Facing Death (16 page)

“Isn't that a little extreme?” Not to the mention the fact that local gossips would have a field day with that juicy bit of information. She wouldn't be going into the inn for a while; that was for sure.

“Not if the person responsible for Smith's death is indeed your mysterious letter writer. Although, I will question Raquel. I'd prefer it if I was wrong on that count.”

So would I.
Keeley wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself, feeling a sudden chill that wasn't all to do with the night air coming through the open window.

“You said you would let me in on some details?” she prompted, hoping he wouldn't change his mind. He hesitated, looking deep in thought, no doubt sifting through the facts to select those he was prepared to share with her.

“We're working on the assumption there was a business or financial aspect to Terry's death. Which may link in to the arson, though it isn't clear why.”

“The only person who would benefit financially from the arson is my mother,” Keeley pointed out, before remembering that Darla had indeed been complaining about Ben questioning her.

“It's just a theory.”

“Could it be something to do with his betting shop? I mean, that's all money based.” Perhaps now was the time to share her blackmailing theory.

“We've looked at that, but nothing immediately obvious jumps out. Although—” He stopped abruptly. Keeley nodded at him to go on, then said when he still hesitated, “I'm not going to repeat anything.” Although being warned off by a poison pen rankled, it was also starting to scare her more than any injured pride was worth. Also, although she would be dragged by wild horses before admitting it, earning even a modicum of Ben's trust gave her a fuzzy feeling of pleasure.

“There were a few strange deposits in his bank account—his personal, rather than business account. That's really all I can say, unless you're going to tell me you knew something about it?”

Keeley shook her head, even as she mused over this new information in her mind. Raquel obviously wasn't the only person Terry Smith had been targeting.

“It's blackmail, isn't it?” she said, trying to sound as though the idea had only just dawned on her. “He was blackmailing someone. Annie said he was the type to go snooping through people's dirty laundry.”

Ben nodded. “Good at this, aren't you? It's a strong possibility. I should have a warrant to trace the accounts that the money is coming in from by next week.”

“So you are making some headway.”

“A little, but it could turn out to be something or nothing. I've questioned everyone in this bloody town, and just can't seem to get a handle on this case.” He shook his head in frustration. Keeley was surprised, not having realized his questioning had been so thorough. “I've even spoken to Norma and Maggie,” he admitted with a wry grin, “in the hope they might be aware of some juicy secrets worth blackmailing someone for, but all I got was a rather lurid account of Old Mr. Crocker's affair with the lady who runs the launderette.”

Keeley laughed at that. “Good for him. I would imagine if those two knew anything, it would be all round the town, in any case.”

“Most likely. If it is blackmail, and that's what prompted the murder, then somebody had a secret worth killing for. Something they didn't want anyone to find out.”

Keeley thought about that. What secret could be bad enough to kill for?

“There's something I need to tell you,” she said quietly. When Ben looked at her with alarm, she went on hurriedly, “Not about me. The reason I was questioning Raquel, why I thought she might have something to do with it.”

Ben relaxed back into the cushions and raised an eyebrow at her. “Go on.”

“Someone told me they had seen Raquel handing money to Terry from the till. The idea of blackmail did cross my mind then,” she admitted.

Ben looked amused. “Giving out money is generally what people do with tills,” he said. Keeley blushed.

“Yes, but this was a wad of money, apparently.”

Now he looked more interested, if still a little skeptical.

“And who told you this? Are they, in your opinion, a reliable source?”

Keeley thought about Tom and his vacant expression, the smell of marijuana that clung to him, and his comments about naked yoga.

“Possibly not, no,” she admitted. “But it would be a bit of a coincidence if it wasn't true.” What was it with his insistence on defending Raquel? she thought with annoyance. “I mean, if it looks like she's responsible for the letters, and if she was being blackmailed by Terry, that seems pretty suspicious.” Keeley had a thought. “You said he was hit with a blunt object? There must be lots of things that could do the trick in the diner.”

Ben's mouth twitched. “You think she carried the coffee urn round to the café and clobbered him over the head with it?” When Keeley crossed her arms and glared at him, he held up his hands in a gesture of appeasement. “Okay, okay, I'm only teasing.”

“Pretty bad taste,” Keeley said huffily, “and you did say you didn't find the murder weapon.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You implied it.”

“Maybe. But as I said, Raquel does have an alibi. But in light of the recent message, I will double-check it. And you have to promise me not to mention this to her until I do.”

Keeley nodded with some reluctance, knowing she would have liked nothing better than to reveal to Raquel that she knew she was being blackmailed—if that was indeed the case.

“Scout's honor.”

Ben laughed. “I was in the Scouts, you know. It was good preparation for the police force, in a way.”

Keeley remembered Ben as he had been at school. He had belonged to all the clubs that the popular kids belonged to. Football, athletics, and the youth forum. She could well imagine him as a Scout. He had never seemed to have much time for girls, something that had given some slim comfort to a besotted Keeley. She hadn't been the only one to moon over Ben Taylor to no avail.

“I was never really the outdoorsy type,” she said, remembering all the times she had been picked last for the hockey and netball teams, or been forced to run races on Sports Day that she had inevitably come last in. Plump and uncoordinated, her body had been a mystery to her, whereas Ben had displayed the same unconscious, masculine grace that was so evident in him now, even at an age when most boys were gangly and awkward.

“I remember you were always in your books. Cooked up a storm in Home Ec, though.”

Keeley blinked at him, surprised. “You remember that? I never thought you took much notice of me, to be honest.” She winced, wondering if her comment sounded as needy to him as it had felt to her, but Ben looked surprised himself. In fact, his cheeks were a little red.

“I did. It was third year we shared Home Ec class. I had the biggest crush on you.”

“You had what?” Keeley blurted, shocked. When Ben looked offended, even hurt, she hastened to add, “I honestly had no idea.” He must just be humoring her, she thought, trying to be nice.

“Well, I was a bit shy with girls back then. I made up for it in college,” he said cheerfully, not noticing Keeley wince, then wince again as she remembered Raquel's comment at Mario's. She was beginning to think about the woman far too much. In fact, she couldn't help almost hoping she was behind it all, if only to get her away from Ben. Then she immediately felt awful for thinking such uncharitable thoughts.

“There's no significant someone in your life now?” she said, more to turn the conversation away from his college conquests than anything else, though as soon as she asked the question, she knew how much she wanted to know the answer. Part of her was still reeling from his revelation. He had had a crush on her? By the time they had reached third year and Home Ec class, her own crush had abated somewhat and he became just another popular boy to avoid, in case he too took up the sporadic teasing of her.

“No. I came out of a serious relationship about ten months ago. She got fed up with me working so much. You?”

“It's been a couple of years,” Keeley admitted. “I've been busy with work too, I suppose. I was engaged once, after college,” she said before even realizing she was about to. It wasn't something she liked talking about. Unfortunately, Ben looked very interested.

“Really? What happened?” When Keeley looked down, he touched her arm. It was the briefest of touches, yet felt searing through her cardigan. “Sorry, that was nosy. I get too used to asking people questions all day long.”

“It's okay,” she said. “He cheated on me.” Embarrassed, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes and blinked rapidly to cover them, looking away.
I'm over it, what's wrong with me?
She admonished herself fiercely. To her surprise, Ben nodded in sympathy.

“That happened to me too, about five years ago. I suppose I should have expected it, it was a long-distance thing. Hurts like hell, doesn't it?”

“It does. But it was a long time ago now.” Ben's confession had chased away her tears at least. It seemed ludicrous, that a woman would cheat on Ben, but logically, she knew she wasn't the only one to go through it, and even that it was no fault of her own. But knowing something intellectually and feeling it as an innate truth were very different modes of perception. Keeley had spent many an evening meditating on forgiveness after a particularly intense and purifying yoga sequence, but it seemed she was still more affected by it than she had thought. Or there was something about Ben's presence that seemed to bring her emotions much closer to the surface, leaving her feeling raw, as if her skin had been turned inside out.

Raw wasn't good. Raw meant getting hurt again.

Keeley stood up and looked pointedly at the clock.

“I'd better get ready for bed. It's been a long day.”

Ben looked disappointed; then that blank, professional expression came over his face and he stood up as well, picking up the plastic Baggie containing the letter. Keeley looked at it. Talking to Ben, she had almost forgotten all about it.

“Don't worry,” Ben said, noticing the direction of her gaze. “I'm going to get a patrol car doing the rounds this end of town, and keeping a close eye around Bakers Hill, in particular. Try to get some sleep, but make sure your phone is on and within reach. If you need anything, just call.”

He was all professional concern again, and as Keeley opened the door to let him out, she opened her mouth to thank him, then closed it again in surprise as he bent down and kissed her swiftly on the cheek.

“Take care,” he said in a tone that was almost tender, and then he was gone.

As Keeley bolted the door behind him, she noticed her hands were shaking a little, and didn't think she could put it entirely down to fear. One thing she was certain of, that her thoughts that night wouldn't be solely focused on Terry Smith or Raquel or even her plans for her business. No, they would be dominated by something else entirely. Something that gave her a tumbling feeling of both disbelief and pleasure low in her tummy.

Ben Taylor had had a crush on her.

 

Chapter Eleven

The next day, Keeley plucked up the courage to attend the morning's church service after an invitation from Annie after breakfast, and was grateful to see no one she recognized, especially Maggie or her friend Norma. There were only friendly faces, and the vicar's wife seemed very interested in the possibility of Keeley holding an evening yoga class at the church hall. Although she had never been a regular churchgoer, she had always attended Easter and Christmas services with her dad, and the familiar smells of wood polish and incense evoked a pang of nostalgia. Although she didn't take in all of the vicar's sermon, his lilting tones soothed her and she emerged into the sunshine feeling comforted.

“I told you you'd soon be fitting in fine,” Annie said as they walked back up the hall. It was another nice spring day, the birds making a riot of sound, the hills stretching away into the distance, and Keeley felt a moment's gratitude that she lived here.

“I saw a police car driving up and down the hill last night.” Annie gave her a tactful look out of the corner of her eyes. Keeley sighed, and decided it was time to let her landlady know what was happening at the cottage. Annie's eyes went wide as Keeley told her about the letters.

“How awful. Good Lord, but there are some horrible people in this world.”

As they reached Rose Cottage, Annie peered up at the porch roof thoughtfully.

“Do you know, I could install CCTV here and round the back. That would deter whoever is behind it, I should think.”

“That's a great idea,” Keeley said, wondering why she hadn't thought of it herself. “But you shouldn't have to worry about that.”

“Nonsense,” Annie said in her kind but brisk manner, “I'll look into it this week. I've been meaning to get it alarmed for a while.” They said good-bye and Keeley went into the cottage feeling a little more secure, though she still locked the door behind her.

That night, after waking up from a fitful sleep for the third time, Keeley made herself a cup of chamomile and sat in her bedroom window. She saw a patrol car come up the hill, its lights sweeping the road in front of it, and felt her breath quicken for a second before she remembered it wouldn't be Ben. He drove an unmarked car, being a detective rather than a uniformed constable. She gulped at her tea, swallowing down her disappointment.

Monday morning, however, she woke with a smile. Today work would finally begin on the café, and the place would be transformed over the next few days into her vision for it.

Armed with a large bag containing two tins of paint, brushes, and rollers, Keeley caught a cab to the High Street and got there a good half hour before the kitchen installers were due to arrive, letting herself through the front door and looking around. Although bare, it still had much the same layout as when it had been the butcher's, and this would be the last time she would see it like this. In spite of her adult aversion to meat, the memory of her father standing behind the counter with his white butcher's apron made her smile wistfully.