Death in the English Countryside Page 13

  “Maybe we should be going.” I took a step backward. “We can see ourselves out.”

  Eve hissed, “Yes, leave. And if I ever see you again on this property—”

  “Evie!” Mr. Wallings called sharply. “Please remember that these people are my guests.” He’d settled into one of the chairs, his face turned up to the sun. His hands rested on the cane, which he’d laid across the arms of the chair.

  Eve took a deep breath and then smoothed her hands over the windbreaker, her gaze focused somewhere beyond Alex and me. “Of course.” Her voice was stilted. “I apologize. You see, my main concern is for my uncle. He has to be very careful.”

  “I’m just old, Evie,” Mr. Wallings interjected, “not deathly ill.”

  The pink patches on Eve’s cheeks brightened.

  Mr. Wallings called out, “You should get to know these people, Evie. We’ll be seeing quite a lot of them in the future. They will be filming here.”

  “What?” Eve turned back to Mr. Wallings, a disapproving glare on her face. “That’s not a good idea—”

  Mr. Wallings cut her off. “It’s settled, Evie. It will happen.”

  Alex said, “I’m sure there are things you need to discuss. We were just leaving.”

  “It’s settled. There’s nothing to discuss,” Mr. Wallings said. “Look forward to seeing you both in a few days—next Monday, shall we say?”

  “Monday, then,” Alex said. “Good to see you again, Ms. Wallings. No need to see us out.”

  “No, I’ll come with you,” Eve said firmly and led the way to a path that circled around the front of the house.

  Alex said, “I parked around the side.”

  She nodded, and we trooped on in a tense, silent bubble. When we reached Alex’s car, she said, “I know you don’t understand, Mr. Norcutt, but Uncle Edwin needs rest and quiet. No excitement. He’s probably already nodding off out there in the garden—he always has a nap after lunch. Now Jacob will have to help him inside.”

  “Does he have some sort of heart or nerve problem?” Alex opened his door and rested his arm on it. “I thought he was recovering from a broken hip and pneumonia.”

  “His medical diagnosis is not your concern. This is not a viable location for you to use. I won’t stand for it.”

  “It’s his property,” Alex said, his voice quiet. “If he wants to allow us to use Coventry House…then it’s his prerogative.”

  Alex was on the other side of the car from Eve. She stepped closer, and I could see the quick rise and fall of her chest. “He doesn’t know what is good for him. That’s why I am here—to take care of him. And if you think you can get around me, you’re wrong. I won’t allow him to be upset.”

  “He didn’t seem to be upset at the idea of filming,” I said. “In fact, it seemed to energize him.”

  Eve’s attention had been focused on Alex, but at my words, her gaze pierced me. “You think you can waltz in here from Los Angeles—oh yes, I heard about you—and charm him, but you’ll not get past me. I will stop this foolishness.”

  I knew when to cut my losses. I didn’t think there was a thing we could say to change Eve’s mind or convince her to reconsider. I opened the car door, which forced her to step back. Alex didn’t follow my lead. Instead of slipping into the car as I did, he said, “I’m afraid that’s not your call, Ms. Wallings. We’ll be in touch.”

  Alex dropped into the driver’s seat and started the car. Eve stood, watching us until a twist in the drive took us out of sight.

  Alex downshifted as we neared the gates, which were swinging open automatically as we approached. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything you could have said to smooth things over.”

  “Nevertheless, that parting gouge was uncalled for. It’s never smart to intentionally alienate clients.”

  “I think she was already alienated.”

  Alex snorted as he navigated through the gates, then turned onto the road after a brief pause. “Especially with me.”

  I gripped the door handle, instinctively bracing for an accident because I felt as if we were pulling into the wrong lane. Even after driving myself and being in England for a couple of days, driving on the left side of the road still felt wrong. “She didn’t exactly embrace me either.”

  “Only because you were with me. You’re tainted by association.”

  “I think the L.A./Hollywood connection did the tainting.”

  “There is that, too.”

  “I don’t know if it’s worth it—to pursue Coventry House. There’s a lot of baggage there,” I said.

  “I know,” Alex said. The road had curved back on itself, and we had a glimpse of Coventry House’s gables above the trees.

  I sighed. “Too bad it’s so exactly right.”

  “It may all come to nothing, in the end. Especially if the whole project folds.”

  We drove in silence for a few minutes, then the arched stone bridge came into view, and all thoughts of Coventry House fell away. I caught Alex’s sleeve. “Let’s stop here. Do you mind?”

  He shook his head and slowed the car, letting it roll to a stop in the clearing near the steep plunge down to the water. I got out and moved to the edge. Alex followed me. Out of the corner of my eye, a dark shape moved, blending in with the mix of trees that rimmed the small open area. “Someone else is here.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “It’s a public place,” Alex said. “Nothing to be alarmed at.”

  “I know, but there was something about the way the person moved. It was sneaky, as if they didn’t want to be seen.” I squinted into the shadows under the trees, but nothing moved.

  “Probably a rambler,” Alex said.

  “Then why aren’t they rambling? There’s definitely someone there—not moving. They’re hiding,” I said, my gaze caught on a patch of something shining red-gold in a narrow shaft of sunlight that had penetrated through the tree canopy. “We know you’re there. You can come out,” I called.

  “Oh, all right.” It was a female voice with a British accent. Becca stepped from behind a tree trunk. “I always was rubbish at any sort of Girl Guide thing—anything to do with the outdoors, really.” As she moved up the little path to the clearing, Alex met her and extended his hand, pulling her up the last foot. “Thank you. Such strength.” She brushed her hand along Alex’s bicep.

  Alex took a step back, but she moved with him, linking her fingers together around his arm. “So what are you two doing? Taking in a bit of the local scenery? Oh! Are you scouting this location? It would be wonderful for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s stroll, wouldn’t it?”

  “No. We’re not,” I said. “Why are you here?” Normally, I’d go out of my way to keep the owner of a potential location happy, but I was tired of her affected manner, and I had that same feeling I’d had earlier in the day, that she was keeping something back.

  “Oh, strolling. A, um, ramble, really.”

  I crossed my arms. “You just said you don’t like the outdoors. I think the only touring of the countryside that you do is from the driver’s seat of your SUV.”

  Becca didn’t seem to know what to do when flirting and/or teasing wasn’t the order of the day. She laughed, but it sounded forced. “What do you mean? I adore walks. I walk all the time. Just like dear Lizzy in Pride and Prejudice.”

  “Interesting that you were ‘walking’ here in the exact spot where Kevin’s car went in the water. You know something about that day—something that you didn’t mention earlier, don’t you? You were going to say something when we told you about Kevin’s death, but you stopped yourself.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “You’re overdoing the outraged tone,” I said. “Makes you seem even less believable.”

  “Did you and Kevin talk about something else that you didn’t tell us about?”

  She relaxed, and her voice sounded completely natural when she said, “No, of course not.”

  “Did you s
ee him again? Later?” Her eyes widened a touch, and I knew I was right. “That’s it. You saw him. It was here, right? It had to be here. Why else would you be here and not want anyone to see you? Why would you hide when we arrived?”

  “Yes, I did see him again.” Becca’s voice was petulant. “He couldn’t drop Grove Cottage. I had to make him see that.”

  I’d been so focused on her face, which clearly showed that I was right—she had kept something back—that I didn’t notice Alex’s expression until that moment. He shook his head, a warning look on his face. I backed up a step, bumped into his car, realizing the implications of Becca’s statement. She was here with Kevin, near the place his body had been found. Being here alone in the quiet countryside with Becca and making accusations—not the smartest moves I’d ever made, I belatedly realized. Beyond Alex and Becca, the water streamed away to the area where Kevin had been found. If Becca found Kevin here and was angry with him, had she pushed him? He could have slipped, perhaps hit his head on the rocks that bulged out from the bank and been swept downstream.

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Becca said impatiently. “I didn’t do anything to him. Well, not really.”

  I licked my lips as I moved my hand along the car door, searching for the handle. Not that it would do me much good to get the door open. I didn’t have the car keys. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”

  Alex said, “I think this is a conversation you need to have with the investigating officer, Quimby.”

  Becca rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. Nothing happened. We talked. I left. That was it.”

  “How did you find him?” Alex had managed to untangle his arm from her hand and had moved slightly so that the three of us were in a triangle formation with me at the car, Alex to my right with his back to the water, and Becca to his right with her back to the woods.

  She fiddled with the threads where her coat was missing a button. “I went to the inn, but his car wasn’t there, so I drove around a bit, looking for him. He wasn’t at Coventry House, so I took this road. I saw his car pulled over here.” She nodded at Alex’s car. “He’d had a flat and had changed the tire. I stopped. We chatted.”

  “Did you convince him to change his mind?” I asked.

  “No.” Her lips puckered into a pout. “He was set on Coventry House, but he said you still might use Grove Cottage for Lucas Lodge.” You’d have thought Lucas Lodge was the equivalent of dog pooh from her tone.

  “So your house was still under consideration, then.”

  “Tourists don’t travel hundreds or thousands of miles to see Lucas Lodge,” she said scathingly. “No, I told him I wouldn’t let him back out. He said Grove Cottage would be Longbourn, and it will be. I told him I was on my way to personally visit my solicitor in London the next day.”

  “What did he say?” Alex asked.

  “He laughed.” A flush of red suffused her cheekbones. “Said it didn’t matter. That there hadn’t been a verbal agreement.” She straightened the hem of her hip-length trench coat and squared her shoulders. “I told him we’d see about that, and I—well—I left.”

  There was that hesitation again, that fractional tick in her speech that betrayed her. “You left at that moment?”

  “Yes,” she said quickly.

  “Then why come back here today after you got the news that Kevin had died? And why sneak around and hide from us when we arrived?” I said slowly, remembering Quimby’s questions, his very specific questions. “You’re afraid that you left something here.”

  I pushed off from the car and closed the distance between Becca and me. “That’s a Burberry trench coat, isn’t it?” I asked as I fingered one of the buttons near the lapel. “Yes, it is. I can tell because the brand name is stamped into each button. That’s what you’re looking for, your lost button.” I pointed to the threads that dangled where a button was missing.

  “What are you talking about? Who cares if I lost a button?”

  “Inspector Quimby cares.” I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. “You’re right, Alex, this is a conversation for Quimby.”

  “No, wait,” Becca lunged for my phone, but Alex stepped between us, knocking her hand away.

  “Let her make the call.”

  “No, you don’t understand.” Becca smiled up at him through her false eyelashes. “Let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

  “I thought you already explained.” I’d moved several steps back and was scrolling through my recent call list. I found the number, but then glanced up at Alex. “No service.”

  “I’ll try.” Alex checked his phone, moved a few steps in one direction, then shifted to the opposite direction.

  “So, I left out a detail or two—that’s not a crime,” Becca said. “Let me tell you what happened. You’ll see there’s no need to call anyone official. Everything I said before is true. Kevin was here; we talked. I was fiddling with that idiotic loose button when he laughed at me. It made me so mad. The button came off in my hand, and I dropped it. At the time, I didn’t stop to look for it. When you told me what had happened to Kevin, I remembered about the button. Naturally, I don’t want to be involved in a police investigation—so common, you know.” She sighed, clearly exasperated. “I’ve searched everywhere.” She waved her arm, taking in the clearing, the woods, the drop to the water.

  “Oh, I think it was here, but I bet it is evidence now. Quimby asked me specifically if I owned a brown Burberry trench coat.”

  “That’s not good,” she said, then her face brightened. “But lots of people have trench coats.”

  “I think the pool of people who can pay over a thousand dollars for a trench coat is probably pretty small, especially in a town the size of Nether Woodsmoor.”

  Alex raised his eyebrows, and I said, “We used some on a commercial shoot once. Inventory lists.”

  “Ah.”

  “This is all Kevin’s fault,” Becca said. “If he hadn’t laughed at me—hadn’t made me mad—I wouldn’t have pushed his car into the river.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You know, this has been really interesting, Mrs. Ford, but we have an appointment back in Nether Woodsmoor,” Alex said.

  Thoughts skittered around my mind, the primary one being I didn’t want to be in this out-of-the-way bit of countryside with Becca. I wanted people and movement around me, not just the low murmur of flowing water and the wind whispering through the treetops. A few cars had passed on the road while we talked, but it was quiet now.

  Becca threw up her hands, palms out. “I should never have said that—or said it that way. It isn’t what you think. I told you, nothing happened.”

  “Except you pushed Kevin’s car into the river. I think that’s something.” The words popped out, and I immediately wished I could take them back. Don’t goad the woman who’d just admitted shoving a dead man’s car into the river. Just leave. “Never mind,” I said quickly as I opened the car door, “Alex is right. I’d forgotten all about that appointment. We should go.”

  “But Mr. Dunn wasn’t in the car.” Becca grabbed the car door, holding it open. “I know it sounds rather bad, but he wasn’t in it. And it’s not as if I rammed it. I was a tad upset and pressed the accelerator a hair too much. I didn’t realize how close I was to his car. My bumper barely grazed his. It only pushed it forward an inch or so, but with all the rain, the ground must have been very soft near the edge of the water.” She raised her eyebrows, a meaningful look on her face. “He shouldn’t have parked so close to the edge, you know. It all happened so fast. The car went right over the edge. There was nothing we could do to stop it.” Despite the urge to leave, I was fascinated with Becca’s animated face. She likes this, I realized, being the center of attention. She enjoyed telling her story in the most dramatic way possible.

  She thrust her hands into her pockets. “And it’s not as if it was even his own car. It was a hire, for heaven’s sake. He wouldn’t even have had to pay for it.”

&n
bsp; It was such an idiotic statement that I think I actually gaped at her with my mouth open for a moment.

  “I’m sure he had full coverage,” Becca added.

  The car rental issue and who would pay for the car didn’t matter now, so I swept those thoughts aside. “So what happened next?”

  “I left.”

  “You left?”

  “Yes, he was fine.” Her voice was sharp with impatience. “I told you that. He was on the bank, but not near the car when it went in. He was fine. Absolutely fine.”

  “So let me get this straight,” I said. “You not only left the scene of an accident, you also left Kevin out here with no transportation?”

  “Yes. It’s not that far from the village, and it wasn’t raining hard. Only drizzling. Light drizzle, in fact. But you’re missing the main point—he was alive when I left.”

  I rubbed my forehead, too astounded at her attitude to come up with a reply.

  Alex had been waving his phone around, looking for a signal. “Ah, here we go,” he said. Before he could dial, his phone rang. “Sergeant Olney, thank you for returning my call. Yes, we—that is Ms. Sharp and I have—have some information for you. You’re in Nether Woodsmoor now? That is fortunate. Then perhaps you could meet us at the bridge? That’s where we are now…Yes, that bridge. Becca Ford is here too, looking for a button she lost…that’s what I said, a button. A Burberry button, to be exact. Yes, she has additional information for you as well. Excellent.”

  At the beginning of the call, Becca had looked wary. By the end she was glowering at him, her face tight and angry.

  Alex ended the call. “He’ll be along shortly.”