Isle of Waves (7 page)

“I am so sorry,” Wig said to him. “You’ve come over to spend time with Paul, and instead you’ve had no sleep and been made to work. You must be longing to get away from here. Get a hotel room or something today.”

Skandik curled into Paul. “I didn’t expect this, and I’m sorry you’re going through all these problems, but I’m with Paul. That’s all I really care about.”

Another time Wig might have made a snide comeback, because anything about Paul deserved snark, but he was exhausted and in Nibs’s arms, and really, that was all
he
cared about.

“If you’re not opening, I’m going to take Skandik on a tour of the island and spend some time with Rose,” Paul said.

Nibs nodded. “You do that. Wig and I need to talk, and it’s liable to be loud.”

“We’ll get some sleep and get out of here later on this morning.” Paul looked at them seriously. “I think we need to stay here though. You need us in case there’s more trouble overnight.”

Much as Wig wanted the place back to himself, he agreed there was safety in numbers.

Heavy footsteps came up the stairs, and the older policeman came into the room. Wig frowned, trying to remember the officer’s name.

“We’re off. Do you want to come down and lock up behind us?”

Wig heaved himself off the sofa. “I’ll do it.”

Nibs grabbed onto his hand. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Wig bent to give him a kiss. “You stay here. I’ll put a note on the door and lock up.” He followed the policeman down the stairs. “Did they break in via the front door?” The back door was still boarded from the day before.

The policeman shook his head. “There’s no sign of any damage.”

“Is that why Sergeant Biggs thought it might be an insurance fraud?”

The policeman didn’t reply, which was answer enough.

Wig took his time to inspect the door. “They broke in the back yesterday, but this looks like they used a key. Nibs and I are the only one with keys.”

“Have you lent a key to anyone?”

Wig was about to shake his head, then said, “Once. To one of our employees, when we had them. She locked up for us because we had an appointment. But she gave it back.”

“How long did she have the key for?”

“Three days.” Wig remembered nagging at her to return the key.

“More than enough time to take a copy. What was her name?”

“Karen Johnston. I can look up her address.”

“Please. You said she was an employee?”

“We had to let most of them go. Not enough business to keep them employed.”

“How did she take it?”

“Not well at the time, but we found her and the others jobs with other restaurants. We treated them well.” Wig got his address book and flipped through to the
J
’s.

The policeman grunted in agreement. “More than a lot of employers do.”

“Here it is: 32 Seaford Crescent.”

Making a note, the policeman said, “Was she a good employee? Trustworthy?”

“We thought so at the time. The only reason we let her go is that Ben and Steve could work longer hours.”

“Where have they been?”

“They wanted a long weekend away. They’re a couple. They should be back tomorrow.” Wig rubbed at his temple. “Damn, I suppose I should let them know what’s going on.”

“We’ll need their address as well. Seems suspicious that they’re away the weekend something happens.”

Wig opened his mouth to protest that Ben and Steve were good guys, the best, but he’d thought the same about Karen. Perhaps he had no sense of judgment anymore. “What’s your name?”

“Dillon. PCSO Dillon.”

Wig handed him Ben and Steve’s address. The thought of two men he counted as friends being involved in trying to get them out of business hurt him deeply. “Is there anyone else you need to talk to?”

“The detectives will need a list of all your ex-employees.”

“I’ll put that together later today.” Wig made a note on the notebook by the till. “I’d better put the notice in the window about being closed. We occasionally get the early bird looking for breakfast.”

He wrote a notice in black marker pen and sellotaped it to the inside of the front door, then made sure the door was locked. As he turned the key in the lock, a thought occurred to him. “Why did they bother breaking in the back door yesterday if they had a key?”

“Maybe just to cause damage. A lot of damage from break-ins is mindless. It’s to upset and unnerve people. They don’t feel safe in their own home.”

“They succeeded, then,” Wig said. “I feel completely unnerved.”

“I eat here,” Dillon said out of the blue. “We like it, and it would be a real shame if you closed down.”

“Thanks.” Wig was touched by his words. “Do you come with your family?”

“My partner.”

It took a moment for the words to penetrate the weary haze of Wig’s brain. He looked at PC Dillon carefully. “The couple always in the corner table, Full English, Spanish omelet, brown toast, and two teas.”

Color spread along Dillon’s cheeks. “Well remembered.”

“How could I forget? You make a very handsome couple.”

“We like your food, but we come here because of you.”

Wig knew Dillon wasn’t trying to hit on him. There were a number of couples, gay and lesbian, who came for the same reason. He had spotted Dillon and his partner before but hadn’t connected the older couple, who liked to spend their Saturday mornings eating a leisurely breakfast, with the officer in front of him.

“I’m not out to my colleagues, but I’m not exactly in the closet either. If people ask, I will introduce Oliver to them.”

Wig nodded. “You know Paul and Skandik—that’s the tall American—are both police officers? Skandik is firmly in the closet; Paul has never been near one.”

Dillon made a face. “You should hear the Sarge go on about Sergeant Owens. He either thinks the man walks on water or can’t work out how he’s managed to remain in the police force.”

“Paul does it by sheer force of will. If anyone gives Paul hassle, he can shoot them down in flames quicker than they can blink.”

“I envy him.”

“It’s an Owens trait. His brother is the same. Have you met Sam?”

“No, although I’d like to.”

“I’ll introduce you.” Wig ignored the fact there might not be an opportunity to do so. “Here’s my card. Call me sometime, and we can have a drink. I’d invite you around for a meal, but Nibs is so tight he’d probably charge you for it.”

“I heard that,” Nibs growled.

“I know, dear,” Wig said blithely. He knew Nibs’s footsteps better than he knew his own. “Coming down to check on me?”

“I was worried. I didn’t know where you were.” Nibs gave Dillon a polite smile.

“PCSO Dillon is one of our customers.” There was no one else around, but Wig still lowered his voice. “They’re the Saturday morning bears in the corner.”

He grinned as Dillon flushed brightly enough to clash with their red blinds, and Nibs opened his eyes wide.

“I’m going to regret telling you that, aren’t I?” Dillon growled.

“More than you’ll ever know,” Nibs agreed.

“Have you finished?” Biggs asked as he joined them.

Wig had no idea where he’d been, but he suddenly appeared from the back.

“Definitely.” Dillon closed his notebook with an audible snap, and Wig suppressed a smirk.

“Get some sleep,” Biggs said. “The plain clothes will be along later in the morning.”

Wig unlocked the door to let Biggs and Dillon out, the latter leaving with a pleading look over his shoulder. Wig sent him a reassuring look. He wanted to tease the man, not freak him out. He relocked the door and looked at Nibs. “I….” He wasn’t sure what happened next. One minute he was going to suggest they went to bed, and the next he was sobbing noisily in Nibs’s arms.

Nibs held him close to his heart. “It’s all right. I won’t let anyone hurt you. It’s all right. You’re safe with me.”

Wig wanted to explain that he wasn’t worried about someone hurting him. It was everything else that was destroying him. But he couldn’t stop crying and draw enough breath to make that conversation. Instead he stayed in Nibs’s arms in the entrance to their restaurant and cried until he was too weary to cry anymore.

T
HEY
SLEPT
until lunchtime, clutching each other so tightly, Wig woke up stiff and aching and overheated. Nibs was still asleep, and Wig had to wriggle out of Nibs’s arms, ignoring the annoyed grumble and the attempt to hold on to him. He headed for the bathroom, desperate for a shower and clean clothes.

Clean and refreshed, finally rid of the dead mouse that had taken up residence in his mouth overnight, Wig dressed in tight black jeans and a lavender shirt and wandered downstairs only to walk into a conference of war in the lounge. The Owens family minus Paul and Skandik took up all the available space. He blinked and looked at them all. “Don’t you all have homes to live in?”

“Good morning to you,” Rose said tartly.

Wig waltzed over to where she was sitting and bent down to kiss her cheek. “Good morning, Rose darling. I don’t mean you, of course. You are more than welcome. What do the rest of you want?”

“I’ll make you a cuppa,” Sam said. “It might cheer you up.”

“An explanation would cheer me up.”

“Mum and Dad wanted to see how you were,” Sam said. “Rose asked to come along too, and Col, Fee, and Dan just wanted to annoy you. Tea and Kathy will come along later with Chrissie.”

“I’m sorry,” Mattie said, her hands fluttering. “I just wanted to check you were okay. Paul texted to tell us what happened.”

“Where is Paul?”

“He and Skandik have gone out for some alone time.”

“It’s very kind of you all to come over,” Wig started, “but we’ve got a mountain of things we need to do today.”

“We’ve contacted your locksmith to change all the locks. He’ll be over about three. Col spoke to Ben and Steve. They said they’d call you later. The police called to set up an appointment. Paul told them to call back this afternoon. The crockery’s been delivered, but we didn’t unpack it as we didn’t know if you were opening tomorrow. And Liam called the insurance company; the details were by the till. They’re coming over at two.” Dan counted each point off on his fingers.

“And before you explode at the interference,” Col said lazily from where he was sitting in one corner of the sofa with Fiona perched on his lap, “deal with it.”

Wig gritted his teeth because he was one step from erupting just as Col said, but Rose was present.

“Here, drink some coffee. It will all look better after caffeine.” Sam thrust a mug in his hand.

“You’ve got a couple of hours before the insurance company turns up,” Col said. “We’re going to go away, now we know you’re okay. Why don’t you get some fresh air? Chrissie says go over to the pub and get dinner tonight.”

Wig kept the smile pasted on his face until they’d all left the room. He gave Rose a hug, feeling the fragility of her bones. Rose had always been invincible, but since her accident last year, she seemed to be fading.

Sam and Liam were the last to leave. Sam gathered Wig in his arms and smushed him into a hug. Wig hung on to him, feeling those damned tears prickling at his eyes again.

Then it was Liam’s turn to hug Wig. “Have a few hours peace with your man. It’s going to get busy again.”

Wig hugged him close. He had a special feeling for the quietly spoken American. He remembered the shell-shocked look on Liam’s face when Sam first introduced him, still mourning the loss of his best friend, Alex, and unable to throw Alex’s ashes off Ryde Pier. Liam had been enfolded into the Owens clan and never looked back.

Shell-shocked was how Wig felt now. Maybe he needed the Owenses more than he thought.

“Thank you,” he whispered in Liam’s ear.

“You’re welcome.” Liam didn’t asked what for, and Wig loved him a little bit more for that.

The room seemed starkly empty without their presence. Wig took a deep breath, which evolved into a grin when he heard Nibs say, “Have they gone yet?”

“All gone, lover. You can come in safely.”

“Thank God.” Nibs came in, a weary grin on his face, wearing just his boxers. “Sorry I left you to face the herd, babe. I just wasn’t up to it.”

“You owe me.” Wig kissed him on the nose. “We’re not due anyone until the afternoon. Do you want a drink?”

“Did I hear someone suggest a walk? We could walk along the seafront and grab a coffee elsewhere.”

“Let’s get showered. You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.”

Nibs smirked. “I am the hedge.” This was true. Nibs was a furry bastard, and Wig who struggled to shave once a week, loved every single hair.

“Go shower, babe. Otherwise they’ll think you’re a yeti.” Wig pushed Nibs toward the door.

Nibs looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “Wanna clean my fur for me?”

Stupid question. Wig was pressed up against him as quick as he could, burying his face between Nibs’s shoulder blades. “You stink.”

“I love you too.”

A
N
HOUR
later, Wig was sipping a latte as they walked along the beach. The kids were back at school, and the beach was relatively empty, populated by a few mums and toddlers with buckets and spades, and gamboling dogs and their owners in the distance.