Constable Evans 02: Evan Help Us (8 page)

BOOK: Constable Evans 02: Evan Help Us
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She gazed up hopefully at Evan. “What I really need is a guide who knows the place. You wouldn’t like to have us tag along would you—just this first time, so that we get the hang of it?”

He wouldn’t get much of a hike with the pair of them tagging along, Evan thought. Then he decided he was being selfish. Of course she needed someone to show her which paths were easy and which were dangerous.

“I’d be glad to,” he said gallantly. “Are you ready to go now?”

“Why not? Don’t you think we’re dressed right?”

She was wearing a shiny red track suit which somehow didn’t clash with her red hair. Jenny was all girl today, dressed in a pretty cotton dress with big puffed sleeves and a pink ribbon in her hair. Evan looked at their clean white shoes.

“Normally I wouldn’t go up there without a rainproof jacket, but it’s not going to rain for a while and I don’t imagine we’ll be going too far with the littl’un along.”

“Oh, she might look frail, but she’s tough like her mum, aren’t you, Jenny?” When Jenny said nothing, she jerked her arm. “Go on, say hello to the nice policeman.”

Jenny looked down and studied her white shoes.

“You daft thing,” Annie said. “You were so excited when I said we were going to see him, weren’t you? She does nothing but talk about you at home. She tells me over and over how you saved her. She thinks you’re a proper hero. I think so too. And I don’t think I ever thanked you properly, did I?”

“I was only doing my job.” Evan gave her an embarrassed grin.

“You saved my kid’s life and that’s all that matters to me,” Annie said. “She means the world to me, you know. She’s everything.”

Evan held out a hand to help her over the stile that straddled a dry stone wall. She took his hand daintily and Evan noticed her beautifully manicured red nails. Definitely a city girl. Again he was curious about what had made her think of a spot like Llanfair. She was just stepping down the other side of the stile, still clutching onto Evan’s hand, when someone came down the street toward them, walking quickly. Evan looked up and saw that it was Bronwen.

Chapter 7

“I went to your house but there was no one there,” Bronwen said as she approached. She sounded calm enough but her cheeks were pink. “I thought we might take that hike over to Llyn Ogwen that we’ve been talking about, but I see you’re busy.”

She wasn’t wearing her usual long flowing skirts and ethnic blouses but instead well-cut twills and a cornflower-blue shirt that exactly matched her eyes. Evan swallowed hard. “I—that is Annie asked me to show her around a little.” He paused, looking from Annie, whose hand was still gripping his, to Bronwen, who was standing there with her hands on her hips.

“I don’t think you’ve had a chance to meet Annie Pigeon yet, have you, Bron?” he asked. “She’s just moved here.”

“Is that right?” Evan knew that she was deliberately not making it easy for him.

“Annie, this is Bronwen Price, our schoolteacher. Jenny will be going to her school if you stay here long enough.”

“Miss Price, eh? I’ve heard about you,” Annie said. She released her grip on Evan and extended a hand to Bronwen. “Pleased to meet you, love.”

Bronwen shook her hand.

“Annie’s never had a chance to go mountain walking before,” Evan said, “So I thought I ought to show her the easiest paths. You want to come with us?”

“I don’t think so, thanks,” Bronwen said. “I think I’ll tackle the Llyn Ogwen hike on my own then. I’ve been wanting to do it for a while. Have fun.” She hoisted her pack higher on her shoulders and strode off.

“Oh dear,” Annie said. “I’ve messed things up for you there, haven’t I? If looks could kill, I’d be in a pine box by now.” She gave Evan a little shove. “Go on, go with her if you like. Jenny and me can find our own way around. We’re not stupid.”

“It’s okay,” Evan said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “Bronwen and I will have plenty of weekends to go hiking together. She can spare me for one Sunday, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t want to spoil things for you,” Annie said. “I’ll go see her if you like and tell her that I was only asking for your help because you’re the one person who has been friendly to me so far.”

“There’s nothing to spoil,” Evan said. “Bronwen and I are just friends.”

“Just good friends, huh?” Annie chuckled. “That’s what they always say in the tabloids isn’t it—usually just after the cameraman has caught them in bed together!”

“As I said,” Evan continued, embarrassed by the way the conversation was going, “we enjoy each others company and we like the same things, but it hasn’t gone any further than that.”

“Then you’d better get moving, hadn’t you?” Annie said, raising a challenging eyebrow. “Or maybe there’s someone else you’ve got your eye on. The barmaid, for example? She’s got all the right things in the right places, hasn’t she—and doesn’t mind showing them.”

Evan laughed uneasily. “Betsy’s a nice girl,” he said, “but not my type.”

“What
is
your type then?”

“I haven’t quite decided,” Evan said cautiously. He wasn’t going to bare his soul to this woman he had just met. But as they continued up the track he asked himself the same question, and most of the answers seemed to point to Bronwen. He’d have to explain to Bronwen and make her understand that Annie Pigeon was no threat. He had no interest in Annie other than a professional one. The sooner he got her settled into village life, the better for all of them.

“I saw you braved the pub on Friday night,” he said. “I was going to buy you a drink, but when I looked for you, I couldn’t find you.”

“I changed my mind,” she said. “I thought it might be a good idea to go down to the pub and meet people, but when I got there, I saw it was all men, so I beat a hasty retreat. I didn’t want to start off here with the wrong sort of reputation, did I?”

“The women usually go and sit in the lounge,” Evan said, “but you’re right. It’s mostly men in the pub. We’re still rather old fashioned here in Llanfair, and rather hypocritical too. The pubs have been allowed to open on Sundays for a few years now, but Sunday drinking is still officially frowned upon.”

“So nobody drinks on Sundays?”

“I didn’t say that.” Evan grinned. “Everyone sneaks out of the back door of chapel and takes the footpath to the back door of the pub.”

Annie laughed, then a horrified look crossed her face. “Oh Lord, I’m not expected to go to chapel, am I?”

“You’ve got a good excuse. You don’t speak Welsh. The reverend Parry Davies gives his sermons in English sometimes, but not always. And attendance is dropping off too. None of the young people go now. Pity really.”

“What—that they don’t want to listen to boring old sermons?”

“No, that traditions die out.”

Annie stopped and breathed hard. “Phew. It’s quite a climb, isn’t it?”

Evan didn’t like to tell her that they hadn’t really begun climbing yet. This was just the first sheep pasture. The real mountains rose sheer behind them. It took a long while before they finally reached the top of the pasture.

“There you are,” he said as the village spread out below them. “Now you get your first good view.”

“It’s lovely,” she said, smiling. “Doesn’t the village look small? Like dollhouses, isn’t it, Jenny love? Imagine that we’ve come all the way up here!”

“I’m tired, Mummy,” Jenny complained.

Annie looked apologetically at Evan. “She’s only got little legs and she’s not used to walking. Neither am I, for that matter.”

“Maybe we should cut back from here through Morgan’s farm,” Evan said. “The path gets pretty steep after this. See how it goes up past those rocks?”

“You mean people actually walk up there?”

“Oh yes,” Evan said. “This path goes over that ridge and joins up with one of the main routes up Snowdon.”

“I think I’ll leave that for a while,” Annie said, still breathing heavily. “I need to get in shape first. And we need to get you some proper walking shoes, Jenny. You’ve got mud all over those nice white ones.”

Evan was curious to know how she managed financially. The little girl was beautifully dressed. Maybe there was a Mr. Pigeon paying child support after all. But he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to do anything that encouraged intimacy with Annie right now.

He led her down a gentle grade that dropped steadily to the village again. Ahead of them was a solid-looking, gray stone farmhouse, and beyond it a row of new glass and wood bungalows.

“This is Morgan’s farm,” Evan said. “Those are the holiday homes Ted Morgan had built this spring.”

“Is that where the poor old bloke was staying?” Annie asked. “The one who fell in the river?”

“No, that was Owens’ on the other side of the valley,” Evan said. “See over there, just up from the river.”

“And he fell off that little bridge?” Annie asked, squinting into the sunlight to focus on it. “It’s not surprising, is it? I don’t think I’d want to go home that way in the dark.”

“The colonel usually carried a torch in his pocket,” Evan said. “He was so excited that night that he forgot it.”

“About finding that ruin?” Annie asked. “Doesn’t sound too exciting to me to find a few old rocks.”

Evan was focussing on the riverbank too. It was a good place to lie in wait for someone, hidden among all those trees and shrubs. The only buildings close to it were the pub, the police station, and the petrol pump. No houses nearby. The noise of water would have drowned any cry. A perfect spot to kill.

A loud scream made him start. Jenny rushed to her mother and clutched at her legs, clawing to be picked up.

“She’s scared of the sheep now,” Annie explained as a large sheep ambled past them.

“Sheep won’t hurt you, Jenny,” Evan said. “That sheep only came after you the other time because she thought you were taking her baby away. Your mummy would chase off anybody who tried to pick you up, wouldn’t she?”

“See, love? Listen to what the nice policeman says,” Annie soothed. “He’ll take care of you. He won’t let anything bad happen.”

As they approached the farmhouse, they heard the sounds of hammering inside, and a tall, huskily built man came out carrying a sheet of plywood. He stopped and looked up when he saw them approaching.

“Hello there,” he said. “Constable Evans, isn’t it? We never did get to meet properly the other night at the pub.” He came over, hand extended. “I’m Ted Morgan, old Taff’s son.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ted,” Evan said. The man had a firm handshake. Although at first glance he looked like any other villager with sleeves rolled up and a cap on his head, Evan noted that the shirt he was wearing was Ralph Lauren and the shoes were Timberlands. “And this is Annie Pigeon. She’s just moved here. Annie, this is Ted Morgan. He’s a business tycoon from London.”

He thought he saw a flicker of interest? amusement? in Ted’s eyes. Then he said formally, “How do you do, Miss Pigeon. Or is it Mrs.?”

“It’s Ms.,” Annie said firmly.

“So you’ve come to live in Llanfair too? What a coincidence.”

“Don’t tell me you’re coming to live here too, Mr, er, Morgan, is it?” Annie asked.

“I thought I’d give it a try for a while. The old man never did much with all this property. It would be a challenge to see what I could do with it. And I’ve had enough of London. I have a hankering for the simple life.”

“The simple life.” Annie said. “Isn’t that what we all want?”

“And you’ve moved here from where?”

“Manchester,” Annie said. “I come from Manchester.”

“You’ve lost your accent.”

“So have you, Mr. Morgan,” Annie retorted. “No one would think you were Welsh.”

Evan looked from one to the other. He could sense something going on here, but he wasn’t sure what. Attraction? All he knew was that Annie hadn’t been as polite or formal with him.

Jenny grew tired of standing still and wandered on ahead down the path.

“Jenny, wait for us, love,” Annie called out. “Don’t go wandering off.”

Ted Morgan’s eyes followed the child with interest. “Your little girl?” he asked.

“That’s right.” Her eyes looked at him defiantly.

“Pretty little thing,” he said. “You’re smart to keep a close eye on her. You never know when accidents can happen to little kids, do you? Even in a place like Llanfair.”

“That’s what I was telling her the other day, wasn’t it, Annie?” Evan asked.

“What?” Annie asked, suddenly realizing he had spoken to her. “Sorry, I was watching Jenny. I’d better go after her. Excuse me.”

She pushed past the two men and almost ran after Jenny.

Ted Morgan grinned at Evan. “Good-looking girl, isn’t she?” he asked. “I wonder what made her come here? Maybe to find herself a steady bloke like you.”

“I got the feeling she was eyeing you,” Evan retorted.

Ted shook his head. “Funny—I didn’t get that feeling at all. Anyway, one lot of alimony is enough for me. With any luck my ex wife won’t be able to find me here.”

He laughed. “Oh well, better get back to work, I suppose.”

“Are you remodeling?”

“Remodeling? The place was uninhabitable. I’ve had to gut it and start from square one. They didn’t build these old farmhouses for comfort, did they? And you should see the bathroom! I might want rural peace and quiet, but I like my comforts too. I’m living in one of my holiday cottages until it’s finished.”

“And you’re doing it yourself?”

Ted Morgan grimaced. “I thought I might get started on it myself. I’ve got the contractors who built my bungalows coming in on Monday. But I’ve just found out I’m bloody useless at it. I’ve already hit my thumb with the hammer twice. Have you ever hit yourself with a hammer? Blood everywhere—you’d have thought it was a major crime scene.” He started to walk away and gave Evan an easy wave. “See you in the pub tonight, maybe.”

“Probably not tonight,” Evan said. “After my landlady’s stern warning about paying respect to the dead, I think I’d better stay away from the Dragon tonight. But some other time maybe.”

“Respect for the dead?” Ted asked. “Oh, you mean the old bloke who fell into the stream?”

Evan nodded.

“But he was only a visitor, wasn’t he?”

“It doesn’t matter. Everyone liked him. The whole village is upset about it.”

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