Read Online Memory and Desire by Lillian Stewart Carl - Free Book Online Page A

Sheffield Best Bitter."
    Envisioning dusty casks filled by elves, Claire looked up at Alec. “What do you suggest?"
    “Two Marstons and two shepherd's pies,” he ordered.
    Wordlessly Rob put down the glass he was polishing and disappeared through a swinging door.
    Alec and Claire sat down at a table in the corner. Except for the obligatory horse brasses by the fireplace, Claire noted, the Jackmans had resisted tarting their pub up for the tourist trade. Being the only pub in town must cut down on competitive expenses. A couple of elderly men sat at other tables, but so far the place hardly resembled happy hour at Chili's.
    “The name ‘Druid's Circle,'” said Alec, “comes from the ancient stone circle just beyond the Hall. People used to believe the Druids went about building stone circles, when in reality the circles were built by Neolithic tribes long before the Druids arrived."
    “The Druids being the priests of the Celtic tribes who were here at the time of the Romans,” concluded Claire. “Not that they couldn't have used the circles for ceremonies."
    “Oh, I should imagine the circles were used for centuries, by many different people.” Alec's gleaming smile rewarded Claire either for her knowledge or for her not playing dumb-female games.
    As much as Claire enjoyed academic discussions, this was not the time for one. “What did Blake say about the letter?” she asked.
    Alec shrugged. “He rang me at half past three, said he'd give the forensic chaps a go at it, and asked me to have a shufti beneath your carpet. Sarita let me in, hope you don't mind. All I found was dust."
    Even Sarita wouldn't clean beneath a carpet any more often than necessary. Claire kicked herself for not noticing someone had been in her room. “That's all? Blake's not going to re-open the case?” she asked, lowering her voice as though keeping Melinda's murder a secret would cancel it out.
    “He didn't say."
    Rob appeared at Claire's elbow and plunked down two heavy mugs brimming with dark liquid and froth. The door opened, admitting a thick ray of sunlight and several more customers. From the room behind the bar shouted a female voice, “Rob! Get a move on!"
    The publican stamped away, the floor protesting beneath his feet. “Think you can order me about, eh? And where were you yesterday afternoon when I was after chopping the fruit and veg?"
    Funny how fast relationships can go downhill, Claire told herself. She lifted her mug and drank. The ale was cool on her tongue, filling her nose and throat with summer fields, autumn smoke, and the bite of winter. What was that verse of Tolkien's, something about cold water being all well and good, “but beer is best when drink we lack.” Appropriate—Alec reminded her of a giant economy-sized hobbit.
    When he put down his mug it was half-empty. He wiped a bit of froth from his upper lip. That lip then compressed itself against the lower, showing proper concern for the situation. “It's right embarrassing. Here you are, come all the way from America to look for her, and I let her go missing."
    “You had no idea she was in danger, did you? She didn't know."
    “So it seems,” he conceded.
    “I'm sure you investigated thoroughly.” Claire tried to make that a statement. It came out more like the question it was.
    “The last performance of The Play was on the Saturday. No one saw Melinda after the cast party in the entrance hall—and it took a fair bit of questioning to settle that. Blake or one of his lads or I talked to everyone in town and quite a few of the day trippers who came for The Play."
    “When did you realize she was missing?"
    “Monday morning. I was walking about the Hall and Richard told me she hadn't come to work.” Alec grimaced. “I know—someone should have missed her before then, but she usually spent the weekends away."
    “With some man or another?” Claire couldn't help asking.
    Alec raised his glass, drank until it was empty, then gazed into it as