After the Fire (6 page)

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Authors: Clare Revell

Tags: #Christian romance

BOOK: After the Fire
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“Freddie, are you all right?” A tight nod was all he got in response. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then stood. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll call for you before breakfast. Goodnight.”

He left the room. He seemed to do nothing but upset her. He should never have accepted this assignment. There was too much water under the bridge for them to cross over.

 

****

 

Freddie watched him go and closed her eyes. She felt so alone, now more than ever. She hadn’t given God or church a second thought since Jason left her, but hearing the warmth in his voice when he mentioned it just added insult to injury. Never mind the memories that came flooding back as he said grace. Reaching for her bag, she pushed her chair back. It collided with something solid and she looked up at the tall man with dark eyes and sparkling white teeth, rubbing his shin.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. No harm done.” He straightened up and stuck out his hand, smiling at her. “I’m Nick Steele. And this is my wife, Hannah.”

“Frederica Price. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Freddie smiled back, shaking his hand. His Caribbean accent lilted, at odds with the firmness of his grip.

“Are you and your boyfriend here on vacation?”

“We’re on holiday, yes, but he’s not my boyfriend. He’s an old friend. We’ve known each other for years, but lost touch. We’re using this time to catch up. What about you?” Freddie tossed out the cover story effortlessly. Half truth, it made things so much easier for them both to remember.

“We’re combining business with pleasure. I’m doing the business and Hannah’s doing the pleasure.” His smile made her skin crawl; it didn’t ever reach his eyes.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, we had a long drive, and I’m tired. I’m really sorry about your leg. Goodnight.” She grabbed her bag, sliding it onto her shoulder.

“Goodnight.”

Freddie left the room, more than a little embarrassed. She walked up the stairs, not really surprised to find Jason leaning against her bedroom door. “We have to stop meeting like this. The natives are already starting to talk.”

“I decided we should do the briefing now.”

“I thought we agreed to wait until morning. It’s been a long day, and you must be tired after all that driving.”

“Thanks for the concern, but I would like the briefing now.” He jerked his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Just show me what’s in the box, and then we can both sleep and start afresh in the morning. Plus there’s the small matter of the file to discuss.”

Freddie sighed, feeling about six inches high. He wouldn’t give up. He was still like a dog with a bone, even after all this time. “Fine. You’d better come in. I’ve locked the study door from the inside. The only way in is through my room.”

 

****

 

Freddie pulled the file from the holdall under the table and opened it. “Gerald Rafferty,” she began, stopping as Jason held up a hand.

“Before you go any further, Freddie, you told me you’d handed over
all
the files. Including this one, directly to the boss.”

“This is the original. The one I gave the boss was the copy I had made.” She looked at him. She knew what he was going to say and knew how much trouble she was in. No longer just up to her neck in hot water, she was now drowning. “The thing is, the file had already been lost or misplaced once. I figured a copy kept someplace else would be the sensible thing to do.”

“How often do you do that?” Jason studied her intently.

“Never—but files have never gone missing before.”

“Did you report it?”

“Yes I did. I didn’t hear anymore, so maybe the report got lost, too.”

“I’ll look into it. Now you can read.”

“Gerald Rafferty, fifty-six, Caucasian, grey hair, still has all his own teeth.” She paused at the grin on Jason’s face, and then continued. “Married for thirty years, he has four kids, two grandkids. He vanished from his home in Whitgate just over five months ago. After four days, his wife went to the police, who found nothing. Their case is inactive awaiting new leads. Three weeks before he vanished he gave his wife this box, asking her to keep it safe, along with a letter. He told her to open the letter in the event of something happening to him, other than his death, if he didn’t contact her for four months. He also left detailed instructions on whom to give the box to. As a result, Mrs. Rafferty approached us two weeks ago.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “People don’t generally plan to vanish and leave a letter.” He reached over, unclipping the photo from the cover and studied it. “Is this him?”

“Yes.” As tempting as it was to shoot back a facetious answer, she restrained herself. She was in enough trouble. “Anyway, the case got assigned to me and here we are.”

“You left out the part that the case was taken away from you, but yes, here we are.” He held out a hand for the file.

Freddie gave it to him and perched on the edge of the bed, watching as Jason perused it.

“How many of these leads…forget that, I found your notes.” His brow creased for a minute. He closed the file and put it down on the table. “So, what’s in the box?”

Freddie tugged the holdall from under the table. “Could you do the honors?”

“Sure.” Jason lifted the bag up between them and set it on the table. “Are you positive you haven’t got the kitchen sink in here?”

“Quite sure.” She opened the bag and took the lid off the box. “The box arrived at the office already in the holdall. It’s a tight fit, so I’ve left it in there.” She set the lid on the floor, resting it against the table leg. “The contents are as they were, in the same places. I did debate taking out the paraffin, but left it in.”

“Paraffin?” Shock resonated in his voice and his gaze. “You let me drive four hundred miles in my baby with paraffin in the boot?”

“Your
baby
?” Freddie raised an eyebrow, trying not to smirk and failing. “Your car is your baby?”

“I’ll have you know I’m very attached to her.”


Her?
You’ll be telling me next she has a name.”

“Her name’s Jane.” Jason studied his hands and then looked up, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Oh, please.” Freddie snorted.

“Just be grateful I don’t have the furry dice as well.” He didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm.

“Oh I am. Very, very glad, as that would totally ruin your street cred. What is it with men and cars?”

“Stop changing the subject.” He smiled at her. “We’re meant to be working.”

She returned his smile and turned back to the box, pulling out the contents one at a time and setting most of them on the bed. “All right, we have a shopping list, a journal, a length of rope, box of matches, paraffin, nails, a pick axe, set of overalls, and a tin of black paint.” The paraffin, pick axe and paint she put back into the box.

“Can I see the shopping list?”

Freddie handed it over. “He liked his veggies and coffee according to that.” She paused. “We also have a typed charred fragment of a letter, unsure if it’s printed or photocopied. I haven’t sent it to the lab to be fingerprinted yet, but can if you want.”

“It’s not necessary right now. Read it to me?”

She started to read. “...
from America by airplane. Certainly not by sea. The last time, the stuff never arrived, and I was left as much in the dark as ever. I asked for your help then, remember? And
you
kept
silent!
So did everyone else. I was left to pick up the pieces. This house doesn’t help—all those locked doors and dustsheets draped over the family’s wood wormed furniture. I’m in your hands, you know. When can you come here or shall we....”

“Is that written by him?”

Freddie shrugged. “His wife wasn’t sure. She’d never seen any of this before. There is also an extract from a tape. That arrived by post three weeks after he went missing. The letter had a Trelawney postmark on it, which is why we’re here. Actually he stayed in this guest house at one point. His wife says this is his voice.” She reached over and pulled out the small cassette recorder from her rucksack. She slid the tape in and turned it on. “It’s from an answer phone. But I have no way of knowing where the call came from.”

“...decide. Can still decide. They’ll come, bound to come, but too late. You’re too late listening to this ... I can hear the sea, beyond the cliff. The waves pound and pound. Drowned, did you say? Not me ... Not long now. You’ve heard it all—the ins and outs, ups and downs, reasons, excuses. No real choices. Only the wind and the rain and always the sea, crashing against the shingle. They’ll...”

“And there it cuts off. A map from part of Cornwall, with Trelawney circled and a scrappy bit of paper with an extract of a poem on it. ‘
The dumb go down in history and disappear and not one gentleman is brought to book
.’ And finally this, excuse my pronunciation.
‘Mes dem hep tares a gollas y dyr
’ which translated means “the tongueless man gets his land took.”“

Jason pored over the map. “We’re here, right?” He pointed. “Right in the middle.”

Freddie nodded. “Maybe I’d better make some coffee. I get the feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

 

 

 

 

 

5

 

The summer morning dawned early. Bright sunshine poured though the windows as Freddie dressed in denim shorts and a white vest. She tied a favorite sleeveless red-check shirt over it and grabbed her bag, ready to face the day. Hair, damp from her shower, rested on her shoulders as she opened the door to find Jason standing there, his hand raised ready to knock. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you. You weren’t kidding when you said dress like a tourist.” He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as they gave her a quick once over.

“Blend in is the key. And speaking of blending, you need to lose this.” She swiftly undid his tie and pulled it off. “You look like a cadet.”

Jason shoved it into his jeans pocket. He undid the top two shirt buttons and shrugged. “It’s force of habit to wear a tie with a shirt.”

“Oh, I meant to tell you last night, that I met the couple at the next table—Nick and Hannah Steele. I gave my name as Frederica Price, the one I booked the rooms under.”

“What’s wrong with your real name?”

“I’m undercover.”

“And you use an alias because…”

Freddie stopped dead and spun to face him.
Is he testing me or being deliberately facetious?
“Because I’m undercover and I’d rather not use my real name in case they use the Internet and Google as much as I do. Have you ever tried googling yourself?”

Jason shook his head. “No.”

Surely he used the ‘Net as a tool for work? She did so much research that way she just assumed everyone else did. “It’s scary how much information there is about you out there.”

Jason did a double take. “Me, personally?”

She pulled the door to her room closed. “You, me, everyone. A few clicks and you can find someone’s life story.”

Jason nodded sharply. “Then I shall Google myself at the first opportunity.”

“I booked you in as Jason North, just like you told me to. Did you expect me to mess up something as basic as this? I’m not a rookie.”

“I didn’t say you were. And you can leave that attitude right here. We had this discussion last night. If I have to repeat it, you know what will happen.”

Freddie nodded. “Yes—sorry.” She paused, not liking the fact he was upset with her again. “You know, you can always shoot me.” The old banter was out before she could stop it.

“Don’t tempt me.” Jason rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I wasn’t making sure you were doing yours. Let’s just go and eat.”

“All right.” He wanted professional, he could have professional. Freddie tossed her hair back. “I also want to talk to Mrs. Bowman this morning before we go out. See if she remembers Gerald Rafferty.”

“Sounds like a good place to start.”

 

****

 

In the dining room, Jason watched, amused, as Freddie tucked into her bacon and eggs as if famished. “Slow down, you’ll get indigestion. Anyone would think you hadn’t eaten for years.”

“Indigestion would be worth it. I haven’t had cooked breakfast in ages and this is wonderful. It always tastes so much better when you don’t cook it yourself.”

He shook his head. Her sense of humor hadn’t changed one iota. “So, where do you want to go first?”

“I want to check out the harbor. It has this cobbled street leading down to it.”

“Sounds like Clovelly. It’s so steep the only way to get goods up or down to the harbor is by sled or donkey. It’s beautiful there, always meant to take you one day.”

From her hurt look, he realized he’d put his foot in it. A surge of guilt flooded him. They would have spent their honeymoon in that area. Did she think he was deliberately trying to provoke her? “Freddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I spoke without thinking.”

She took another mouthful and nodded slightly. “Anyway, I figured go to the harbor, take some photos, walk on the beach, and paddle in the sea. Get a feel for the area and see what could have brought him here in the first place. If that’s all right with you? I don’t want to step on your toes, here.”

Jason picked up his glass of juice. “Sounds good. This is all about teamwork. By the way, the man at the next table is smiling inanely at you.”

Freddie glanced over and smiled and nodded to him. “That’s the man I was telling you about.” She looked down at her plate, cutting off another piece of bacon and dunking it into the egg yolk. “There’s something about him that makes the back of my neck prickle. I want to run a check on him.”

“You’re a suspicious woman. Why can’t you just assume he’s here for the same reason we are?” He broke off and pointed his fork at her. “You’ve got a point. Forget I questioned your intuition. You’re good at this, aren’t you?”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

“Actually, Edwin pays you in pounds and your salary isn’t that big.” Jason tilted his head, a wry smile touching his lips.

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