Read Online Folly by Stella Cameron - Free Book Online

coffee.
    â€˜Had enough time to think of an excuse not to answer?’ Alex said.
    O’Reilly laughed. ‘You almost think like a detective. We may make one of you yet.’ He held up a hand. ‘Forget I said that. The question was routine.’
    â€˜You didn’t have anything specific in mind?’ She wouldn’t mention she knew Tony had been asked the same question.
    â€˜We would be interested in anything that caught your attention.’
    How to deny the truth without telling a lie?
    She’d leave it for now. ‘Do you know who the man is yet?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜No wallet or anything?’ Tony had said there wasn’t, but …
    O’Reilly let out a long breath. ‘Not a thing.’
    â€˜Can anyone tell what order he was from?’
    â€˜Not so far.’
    â€˜Couldn’t you have someone go through descriptions of the habits different orders wear?’ She leaned toward him.
    â€˜Thanks for the tip.’
    There was laughter in O’Reilly’s voice. He thought she was playing amateur detective, but she didn’t regret the question. She would see if there was a way to find out the details of that habit. If she could find out something useful, where was the harm?
    A rap at the back door preceded the entrance of a uniformed policeman. ‘Sir,’ he said. ‘Could you come and have a look at this, please?’
    On his feet immediately, O’Reilly said, ‘Stay here.’
    Ignoring the order, Alex followed as closely as she could without running into his back.
    Several officers stood at the back of her Land Rover, parked beside a dry stone wall that ran from the front of the property to disappear behind the garage.
    â€˜I asked you to stay put,’ O’Reilly said, still striding purposefully toward the vehicle.
    Alex didn’t answer, just kept on following.
    Flashlights illuminated the Land Rover and she saw one policeman kneeling to train his light on a wheel. ‘There,’ he said, pointing.
    Then she saw the way the whole vehicle canted to one side. The right, rear tire was flat.
    â€˜He was out here,’ Alex exclaimed. A deep slash from some sort of sharp knife or tool must have done the job, but another dart with a yellow flight had been embedded in the tire.
    â€˜Shit,’ said O’Reilly. ‘Window dressing. He’s into games.’

EIGHT
    T he Burke sisters’ tea room and book shop, called Leaves of Comfort (to the overt disgust of Harriet Burke), took up two terraced cottages on Pond Street, just around the corner from the Black Dog and butted up against the churchyard of St Aldwyn’s plain little Victorian church.
    Shortly after eleven in the morning, Alex knocked tentatively on the dark blue front door at the rightmost cottage. Although the entire lower floors of both cottages were used for the business, when the shop was closed this side was where the sisters came and went to their upstairs living quarters. Customers used the left door, although both accessed the same space.
    From a window over Alex’s head, a voice called, ‘Come on in, Alex. Unless you’d prefer not to catch whatever Mary says is wrong with her.’ Harriet smiled down at her. ‘It’s not locked.’
    Alex went in, immediately relieved to feel both warm, since she’d hurried over without a coat, and closed away from the world outside. When the Burkes said afternoon tea, that’s what they meant, and nothing was served before three. Until then, this would be a peaceful place. At the Black Dog, continual chatter about the murder had been too much strain to bear. That and following O’Reilly’s instructions not to spread around what had happened last night.
    â€˜Someone may be watching you,’ he’d said. ‘They want to frighten you and we need to know where you fit in. If you don’t say anything he may get rattled and do something to give himself