Read Online Murder on the Levels: An Exham on Sea Cosy Mystery (Exham on Sea Cosy Crime Mysteries Book 2) by Frances Evesham - Free Book Online
Authors: Frances Evesham
Ads: Link
concern like Pritchards to care about.” Libby drained her mug. “How could they have poisoned the food?” She shook her head, dismissing the idea. “No, I can’t believe Pritchards would risk killing people, just to get a foot in the door in Exham.”
Mandy looked disappointed. “But you never know.”
Libby smiled. “No, you never do.”
***
Libby left Mandy and Steve behind, to tidy up before his mother returned. She took Bear for a final walk rounds the roads, promised him a trip out into the fields tomorrow, and returned home. She clattered ice into a glass, poured a hefty slug of gin and waved a few drops of tonic water over the surface, finished with a slice of lime and curled up on the sofa to think about Vince Lane.
He was almost as new to the area as Libby, and no one had much to say about him. Mandy said he’d sometimes worked at Alan Jenkin’s garage. With the Citroen, suitably serviced, waiting for collection from the same garage, Libby had the perfect excuse to snoop around and ask questions.
Meanwhile, the thought of that house in Leeds nagged, like an itch Libby couldn’t reach. Max had mentioned it, in the email. Maybe he could help. She reached for her phone, and dialled. Bear heaved himself up from the rug and rested his head on her lap. Libby scratched his ears.
“Are you busy?”
“No, actually I’m about to head back home. Business transacted, job done. What about you?” Bear’s tail waved. He could hear his master’s voice.
Libby swished gin round her glass. What exactly was Max doing at the moment? Had he just come from a shower, a towel round his waist, hair wet? Libby blinked to erase the thought and made herself listen. Max said, “I found out a bit about Kevin and his family firm. Seems he might have upset a few people over the land deal, but it was years ago.”
“I remember something about it. Wait a moment.” Max’s phone clunked as he set it down. “Yes.” He was back. “I’m looking at some of the paperwork.”
Libby’s mouthful of gin found its way to her wind-pipe. It was almost as though Max had known what she was about to ask. “Already? You’ve got it there?”
“On my laptop. Are you OK?”
“Gin went down the wrong way.” She finished coughing. Now, he’d think she sat around drinking on her own, every evening. She put the glass down. “Go on.”
“The company he dealt with is called AJP Associates. They’re still around.”
That was a blow. “I was hoping it would be Pritchards.”
“What do you think the P. stands for?”
“No. Seriously?”
“Seriously. Pritchards, known to be moving in on properties in the West Country, is part of the group that tried to buy Kevin Batty’s land. I’ll see what else I can find out about them. I should be back tomorrow.”
Libby tried to ignore her stomach’s tiny flip, not wanting to analyse her feelings about Max’s imminent return. Would they quarrel again, or would their truce hold? “Listen, about that house in Leeds. Have you heard any more?”
“No, sorry, but I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Max’s voice sounded odd, as if there was something he wasn’t telling. He changed the subject. “How’s Bear?”
“Listening to your every word.” It was true. The dog’s mouth gaped. Libby could swear he was smiling.
“Give him a treat from me.” Max’s voice took her by surprise. He sounded homesick, which was ridiculous, as he was about to come back anyway.
Libby found she was smiling, as broadly as Bear. “I will. Come on over when you get here.”
“Will you feed me?”
“Beans on toast?”
“Perfect.” He was still laughing as the call ended.
Scrambled eggs
As Libby yawned her way downstairs next morning, keen to retrieve her beloved Citroen from the garage and at the same time, winkle tit-bits of information about Kevin and Vince out of Alan Jenkins’ brain, she caught the whiff of fish. Mandy, in
Mandy looked disappointed. “But you never know.”
Libby smiled. “No, you never do.”
***
Libby left Mandy and Steve behind, to tidy up before his mother returned. She took Bear for a final walk rounds the roads, promised him a trip out into the fields tomorrow, and returned home. She clattered ice into a glass, poured a hefty slug of gin and waved a few drops of tonic water over the surface, finished with a slice of lime and curled up on the sofa to think about Vince Lane.
He was almost as new to the area as Libby, and no one had much to say about him. Mandy said he’d sometimes worked at Alan Jenkin’s garage. With the Citroen, suitably serviced, waiting for collection from the same garage, Libby had the perfect excuse to snoop around and ask questions.
Meanwhile, the thought of that house in Leeds nagged, like an itch Libby couldn’t reach. Max had mentioned it, in the email. Maybe he could help. She reached for her phone, and dialled. Bear heaved himself up from the rug and rested his head on her lap. Libby scratched his ears.
“Are you busy?”
“No, actually I’m about to head back home. Business transacted, job done. What about you?” Bear’s tail waved. He could hear his master’s voice.
Libby swished gin round her glass. What exactly was Max doing at the moment? Had he just come from a shower, a towel round his waist, hair wet? Libby blinked to erase the thought and made herself listen. Max said, “I found out a bit about Kevin and his family firm. Seems he might have upset a few people over the land deal, but it was years ago.”
“I remember something about it. Wait a moment.” Max’s phone clunked as he set it down. “Yes.” He was back. “I’m looking at some of the paperwork.”
Libby’s mouthful of gin found its way to her wind-pipe. It was almost as though Max had known what she was about to ask. “Already? You’ve got it there?”
“On my laptop. Are you OK?”
“Gin went down the wrong way.” She finished coughing. Now, he’d think she sat around drinking on her own, every evening. She put the glass down. “Go on.”
“The company he dealt with is called AJP Associates. They’re still around.”
That was a blow. “I was hoping it would be Pritchards.”
“What do you think the P. stands for?”
“No. Seriously?”
“Seriously. Pritchards, known to be moving in on properties in the West Country, is part of the group that tried to buy Kevin Batty’s land. I’ll see what else I can find out about them. I should be back tomorrow.”
Libby tried to ignore her stomach’s tiny flip, not wanting to analyse her feelings about Max’s imminent return. Would they quarrel again, or would their truce hold? “Listen, about that house in Leeds. Have you heard any more?”
“No, sorry, but I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Max’s voice sounded odd, as if there was something he wasn’t telling. He changed the subject. “How’s Bear?”
“Listening to your every word.” It was true. The dog’s mouth gaped. Libby could swear he was smiling.
“Give him a treat from me.” Max’s voice took her by surprise. He sounded homesick, which was ridiculous, as he was about to come back anyway.
Libby found she was smiling, as broadly as Bear. “I will. Come on over when you get here.”
“Will you feed me?”
“Beans on toast?”
“Perfect.” He was still laughing as the call ended.
Scrambled eggs
As Libby yawned her way downstairs next morning, keen to retrieve her beloved Citroen from the garage and at the same time, winkle tit-bits of information about Kevin and Vince out of Alan Jenkins’ brain, she caught the whiff of fish. Mandy, in
Similar Books
