Resolutions (11 page)

‘There's some indication that Peel has been . . .'
Stalking?
Was that too emotive a word. ‘Has had me under surveillance.' He took refuge in more formal language. ‘Something he told a former associate makes us think he may have either been to Frantham or had someone down there on his behalf.'

‘What? You must be kidding me? Mac, when did you find this out?'

‘Yesterday afternoon. Miriam, I'm so sorry. I assumed, as I was no longer there . . .'

‘But you still could have called, let me know. Mac, you know how lonely that road is at night, just how cut off I'd be.' She broke off and he hesitated, not sure what to say, realizing just how scared she'd been and that he was very firmly in the wrong.

Would ‘sorry' do? ‘I'm so sorry,' he said. ‘Miri, I'm really . . .'

‘Stupid at times? Yeah, you really are.'

He could hear her breathing, nervous and loud, as she held the phone close, and he could imagine her gripping it tight in both hands. ‘I'm sorry,' he said again, meaning it absolutely, willing her to know just how much he was meaning it.

‘Have you spoken to Rina?'

He would have lied now, if he'd had to, but fortunately he could be truthful. ‘No,' he said. ‘I've not spoken to anyone else yet. You think you can stay at your sister's?'

‘You think he knows about my flat?'

‘I think I don't know any more. Maybe . . .'

‘Mac, I've got a job to do, so don't suggest I go anywhere. I'm not planning on running away.'

He seemed to be surrounded by people telling him that, Mac thought. Mostly they seemed to be women. ‘I'd rather you left the boathouse though, stayed with someone. Don't be alone. Maybe Rina—'

‘Mac, stop right now. I love Rina and Tim, and I'm really fond of the Peters sisters and the Montmorencys and all of them, but stay there? No, not in a month of Sundays, not to escape a whole boatload of Thomas Peels.' She was laughing now, but Mac didn't really think she felt amusement.

‘Miriam. You will leave, won't you?'

The laughter ceased. ‘Soon as I get off the phone,' she said. ‘I love you, Mac. Come home soon, won't you?'

‘I will,' he promised. ‘And I love you too.'

Next on his ‘to do' list was Rina. If he expected to surprise her with an early call, then he was to be disappointed. She listened to his concerns and then delivered hers.

Fitch and Abe Jackson had promised to look in on her today. Abe, a veteran of earlier Frantham crises, now had his own security firm in Exeter, mainly employing ex service people like himself.

Fitch, she told him, would be staying in the tiny spare room at Peverill Lodge. ‘Eliza and Bethany are as overexcited as a couple of puppies,' she said.

‘Well, so long as they don't wet themselves,' Mac joked. ‘I mean, isn't that what excited puppies do?'

‘I won't tell them you said that,' Rina said sternly.

‘No, probably better not. Rina, are you really that worried? I mean, Fitch has to come all the way from Manchester.'

‘And the Duggans have said they can spare him for as long as I need. Better be safe, I think.'

‘Safe?'

‘Well, with what you've just told me, I think I'm doubly pleased he's coming.'

‘But you were worried even before that. About Karen.'

‘Mac, I've learnt not to ignore my feelings, and I've a feeling about this. I don't know where Karen's been these past months, but what I can tell you is she left with little more than the clothes on her back and she's come back with a darn sight more. Let's just say she departed in Primark and returned in couture, and unless she's found herself a rich sugar daddy, I'm guessing she's earned it, and I don't think she's been working, if you see what I mean.'

‘I'm being thick here, Rina.'

‘Yes, you are,' she said bluntly. ‘Think about it, Mac. Her father was a career criminal – a poor excuse for one, but nevertheless he moved in, shall we say, certain circles.'

‘So does Fitch,' Mac pointed out.

‘Which is what makes him so useful. The problem with Edward Parker was that he was a bear of a man but with very little brain. The mother, poor love, well, if anyone was born to be a doormat . . . but the children are extraordinary. George is a bright, sensible, wonderful child and will grow into a very special young man. Karen, however, she has single-mindedness, intelligence and her father's lack of respect for anything legal or respectable. She has the connections, Mac. And it's the timing that bothers me. It's almost as if she knew you'd be away.'

‘I don't see how. You've spoken to Andy and Frank Baker?'

‘I have, and Sergeant Baker is going to have a chat to that nice DI Kendal.'

‘He's not that nice.'

‘Jealousy doesn't suit you. But I believe in having insurance, and Fitch is insurance, Abe is intelligence, and Kendal is backup in case we need someone arrested.'

Mac laughed. ‘You seem to have covered all bases. Rina, I'm not going to argue with you.'

‘And Miriam?'

‘Going to stay with her sister. Ben, Miriam's brother-in-law, he's built like the proverbial outdoor facilities and his brothers live almost next door, so I figure she'll be safer there, and now she knows there may be a problem . . . I told her to call Kendal too.'

‘He's going to be a busy boy. Still, that's what he's there for. Seriously, Mac, you watch your back; we're all counting the days until you're home safe.'

ELEVEN

F
itch was a much-loved honorary member of the Rina Martin household. His introduction to life at Peverill Lodge had been somewhat dramatic; his boss's son had been killed and Fitch had come south with Jimmy Duggan to find those responsible for the murder. Not much happened in Frantham that did not eventually involve Rina, and she had been drawn into the investigations, both official – Mac – and not so official in the shape of Jimmy Duggan and Fitch.

His arrival had the ladies, Bethany and Eliza, in a major twitter. They'd been pacing back and forth from living room to hall most of the morning, occasionally retreating to practise the piano, leading Rina to assume that they had a special performance arranged for their guest. She hoped Fitch could cope with such adulation. The inviting scents filtering out from beneath the closed door of the kitchen told her that the men of the household were equally enthusiastic. Steven and Matthew had been closeted in there since just after breakfast, and Rina hoped fervently that Fitch had brought his usual appetite with him and not suddenly and unexpectedly taken to dieting.

The doorbell rang just on noon and doors all across the ground floor of Peverill Lodge burst open. By the time Rina opened the front door, a welcoming committee had gathered. Fitch stood on the step, grinning broadly, and Rina stood back to let the big man in. The door of Peverill Lodge was large and impressive as befitted such an elegant Victorian villa, but Fitch practically filled the same space.

Fitch dropped his holdall on to the tiled floor and swept Rina into his arms, kissing her soundly before opening his arms wide and sweeping both sisters into his massive embrace.

Rina straightened herself up and watched indulgently as the Peters sisters squealed and wriggled and pretended to protest, all the while snuggling closer. The Montmorencys stood close by the kitchen door, waiting for their turn at welcome; Rina wondered if they'd be content just to shake his hand.

‘Bet Fitch is the only person who gets away with grabbing you like that,' a laughing voice said.

Rina turned, smiling. She might have guessed that Joy Duggan would be unable to keep away. ‘I'd make an exception for you, sweetheart,' she said, welcoming Joy with a warm hug. They watched, laughing, as Fitch was escorted into the living room by his admirers.

‘Is Tim here?' Joy asked anxiously. ‘And, Rina, just how bad are things?'

Tim arrived just as lunch was about to begin and Joy pulled up a chair and seated herself beside him at the table. Rina smiled at them both. Joy Duggan, daughter of Fitch's now-dead employer, was more than a decade younger than Tim, but somehow Rina didn't think that was going to stand in her way. In many ways, she was the more mature of the two. She'd set her sights on him from the moment they had met and, though distance and college kept them physically apart, Rina knew they texted many times a day and spoke to one another nearly every evening, Tim managing a quick call between sets even when he was working.

Selfishly, she hoped that once they finally got together properly Joy would move south to Frantham rather than have Tim go north to be with her. She already missed her Tim now that he was more regularly employed and not quite as readily available for advice and support and just idle conversation, and Rina realized that she'd come to view the younger man as surrogate for the children she had never had. More than that, he was probably her closest friend.

Lunchtime talk was casual, catch-up time, the little news of life and learning and knitted scarves and magic and the plans for the Pallisades' Christmas extravaganza – the hotel was already booked solidly for the entire Christmas and New Year period. Serious discussion was never permitted to spoil a meal at Peverill Lodge.

Rina half listened, impatient for the meal to be over and to be able to tell Fitch just why he was here.

Abe Jackson arrived just as lunch was ending, but was brought with due ceremony to the table and supplied with cake in lieu. Joy went to the kitchen with Rina to help bring in the coffee trays.

‘Mum sends her love,' she said. ‘She wondered if maybe you and Tim might come and stay for a while after New Year. I know neither of you can get away before.'

‘I'm not sure I can get away
then
,' Rina said. ‘I don't like to leave them for long, you know.'

Joy laughed. ‘Rina, they're not kids, not really. Mac and Miriam can look in on them all, and at least you know no one will starve. You deserve a break, and Mum would love someone to do the January sales with.'

‘That sounds wonderfully normal,' Rina said wistfully. ‘Yes, Joy, tell Bridie I'd love to. I can't recall the last time I had a proper break. It was probably back in my acting days, though I called it “resting” then and didn't like it one bit.' Not, she thought gratefully, that there had been many such gaps in her life; although fame, with
Lydia Marchant Investigates
, had come relatively late in her career, she had rarely been out of work.

‘I can't recall the last time you saw Mum when there wasn't some emergency happening,' Joy added.

‘That too. Joy, I love having you here, you know that, but things are getting more complicated by the day here and . . .'

‘And I've probably been with you through worse,' Joy said. ‘Hey, Rina, I had to come, you know that. Mum knows that. She says if you need reinforcements, you only have to say the word, but she knows I'd not miss the opportunity to see you all.'

‘Especially Tim,' Rina said mischievously.

‘Especially Tim. Mum knows we Duggan women won't be put off once we've got something into our heads and she reckons I could do a lot worse.'

‘Have you informed Tim that his fate is sealed?'

Joy giggled and suddenly looked like the twenty-year-old she was, maturity slipping away. ‘Oh, I think he knows,' she said. ‘But I'm being sensible, getting on with my studies and all that. I promised Patrick I would and I'm not about to let him down.'

Patrick, Joy's dead brother. The maverick son not prepared to go into the family business with his father and older sibling. Patrick who wanted to make his own, legal, way in the world and who hoped his sister would do the same. Joy had grown up so much this past year, Rina thought; it was just a pity that so much grief should be the cause of that.

Back in the dining room, Rina poured coffee, noting a subtle change in mood seemed to have taken place in her brief absence. She intercepted what could only be described as a meaningful glance between Matthew Montmorency and Eliza Peters. She groaned inwardly.

Steven Montmorency took his cup from her and set it down purposefully. He steepled his plump fingers and leaned back in his chair. Bethany wriggled in her seat and exchanged an excited glance with her sister.

‘Now,' Steven said. ‘We've all eaten and we're all happy to be back together, but none of us imagines this is a social visit, do we, Matthew?'

Matthew Montmorency shook his head. Unlike his supposed twin, who was almost bald, Matthew had a mane of thick, grey hair that hung past his collar. He pushed a heavy lock back off his face. ‘No, indeed, we don't,' he said. ‘Do we, girls?'

The ‘girls', neither of whom would see sixty again, chorused an answer. ‘No, Matthew, we most certainly don't.'

Rina looked at Fitch, who shrugged. ‘Well, you've got to admit, Rina, the last time we all got together was a tad dramatic, so it's a natural assumption. Who goes first?'

Rina took a deep breath. She looked at Tim, but he was busy playing with Joy's hand and seemed not to be giving the conversation a hundred per cent attention. Abe Jackson merely shrugged when she glanced his way.

‘So,' Fitch prompted, ‘what the devil are we dealing with this time, eh?'

Rina scanned the expectant faces around the table. ‘A girl called Karen Parker,' she said quietly, ‘who may or may not be about to cause us some problems.'

‘Young George's sister,' Matthew nodded, satisfied. ‘I told you that was her, Steven. I said, that's young George's sister and she's dyed her hair, didn't I?'