Read Online Staging Death by Judith Cutler - Free Book Online Page B

was no sign of Greg.
    ‘Dentist’s,’ she said briefly.
    So even they worked on Saturdays. ‘Nothing too trivial, I hope.’
    Claire looked at me sternly. She’d never quite decided whether to treat me as a fellow employee or as the boss’s sister, and such comments unsettled her.
    I took my seat at the usual desk. ‘Well, I don’t expect much response from the Gunters, despite the amount of time they took up, but I’d better phone them anyway.’
    I found their file and dialled the number they had given. As Greg had said, they were London-based , with an authentic-looking dialling code. A phone rang, which was promising – but kept on ringing, with no answering machine or service. Igave myself a mental kick. If they were up here house-hunting they wouldn’t be in London, would they? Had Greg filled in the slot for the mobile phone contact number? They must have had a mobile because before I’d met them at Knottsall Lodge he’d reminded me – his turn to give egg-sucking lessons this time – to leave mine switched on in case they got lost and needed to be rescued. I’d better scroll down through all the information, just in case he’d slotted it into the wrong place.
    I was still swearing away under my breath when in he came. But my moans were forestalled when I saw what he was carrying – a bottle of bubbly. All he did with it, however, despite the fact I was almost begging, my tongue lolling from my mouth, was take it through to the little staffroom where there was a sink, a kettle and a tiny fridge.
    I exchanged glances with Claire. One of us had to say something and she’d clearly elected me.
    ‘Thanks for rescuing me last night, Greg,’ I said when he came out again. I managed a silly-little-me laugh. ‘The Gunters had really given me the willies, and then being tailed like that…’
    ‘You were tailed?’ Claire exclaimed. ‘Good God, who by?’
    ‘Oh, you’re making a song and dance over nothing,’ Greg snapped.
    ‘It wasn’t nothing. Each time I turned, the car behind followed me. I swear.’ I added, ‘It wasn’t until I pulled in at the Esso Station they gave up.’
    ‘Best thing to do,’ she nodded sagely. ‘Go to where there are people.’
    ‘So I called poor Greg out to take charge of the keys to the properties I’d been showing – I wouldn’t have wanted them broken into.’
    ‘Property! What about you?’ Claire demanded.
    ‘I do sometimes wonder if unmarked cars might be safer,’ I murmured. ‘Or at least, something with more discreet letters and a smaller logo.’ But not loudly enough to do me out of my share of that champagne.
    Greg looked as uncomfortable as if we were talking about what he stigmatised as Women’s Problems.
    ‘How did you get on at the dentist’s?’ I asked, remembering that a sister should be sympathetic.
    ‘Only a check-up. But next week I see the hygienist,’ he said in a voice laden with doom. He was obviously keen to change the subject. ‘Any news from the Gunters?’
    I shook my head. ‘I can’t reach them on their landline and I don’t seem to have a mobile number,’ I said neutrally.
    He dug in his pocket for his latest purchase– one of those boys’ toys that carry everything you need in life, from your email to your blood group, in one neat gizmo.
    A few prods with his thumb and he was able to tell me what it was, in the tone of a bored teacher talking to a really stupid pupil.
    Though I could have yelled at him for not putting it in the proper place on the file, I thought of the bubbly and merely jotted it down. ‘OK, I’ll get on to them.’
    He nodded, and retired to his sanctum. We could hear him making another call. The words weren’t clear, but the tone was decidedly upbeat.
    Claire jerked a stubby thumb in the direction of the staffroom and mouthed, ‘Fizz?’
    I nodded. ‘Any idea what for?’ I whispered.
    ‘He took a call on his mobile earlier – as soon as he’d answered he bolted in there.’ This time the