Mindy came past the lorry, gave her rear-view a quick check, and shouted, ‘Hold on to something!’
What? What was I supposed to hold onto? A bible? A cherished picture of Archie so they could find it clutched to my dead chest?
The moment she was clear of the truck, she threw the wheel hard left and I saw what she had in mind. To a blast of deep bass horn from the truck driver, she crossed all three lanes and shot down an off ramp. It wasn’t the exit we wanted, but the black BMW shot by and whether the driver had been following us or not, he certainly wasn’t now.
I drew a breath and relaxed my jaw when pain from it told me I’d been clenching my teeth.
Mindy was smiling. ‘That got rid of him.’
With eyes like saucers, I tried to get my pulse back under control. ‘How do you know it was a man driving?’ I asked her. I hadn’t been able to see anything other than an indistinct figure through the tinted screen.
Mindy shrugged. ‘He drove like a man?’ she hazarded. ‘You think maybe it was a woman?’
I was still far from convinced we’d been getting followed at all, but I didn’t have the energy to argue.
‘Let’s just stick to country roads now,’ I suggested. ‘And please drive sedately. I’m not sure how much more of your adventurous driving my heart can take.’
The rest of the journey was conducted at a pace I felt happy with though I was still glad to get out of the car when she pulled it to a stop.
John Ramsey’s house is in the small village of Godsmersham not far from the city of Ashford where the Eurostar train makes its final stop before crossing to France through the tunnel. He owned a modest semi-detached place that was neither cherished nor abandoned. The two-story structure needed a lick of paint on both the masonry and the window frames. The roof showed several broken tiles and the guttering and soffits had seen better days. Still, it was tidy, and the front lawn was cut short.
I had Mindy park down the street a little so we could watch for a minute and see if there was anyone about.
‘I don’t see his bins,’ Mindy pointed out.
I didn’t either, but then he wasn’t here to put them out. ‘I guess they’ll be around the back. I’ll go find them; you don’t want to go through his trash anyway, I’m sure. You walk Buster and keep an eye out for … well, anything. If you see neighbours’ curtains twitching, let me know.’
‘I’ll call you,’ she promised, and we set off. Mindy going first with Buster, and me doing my best to act naturally as I turned up his driveway and went straight down the gap between his house and the detached garage.
My heart started to pound in my chest again. What the heck was I doing? I felt like I ought to run back to the car, go back to the boutique and focus on the things I am good at. However, when I got to the two wheelie bins parked around the back of his house, I knew I was going to at least take a look.
Telling myself I needed to see this through for all the reasons I’d already listed, I flipped the first bin open and pulled out a black sack.
It was tied at the top, but as I pulled it clear, which at my height required me to get my arm way above my head, the bottom of the bag gave out and the contents poured to the ground. On the way there, they ejected various liquids, semi-solids, and things that were sticky onto my boots and skirt.
I jumped back but not nearly fast enough to get covered in all manner of grungy, horrible gunk.
Horrified and wide-eyed, I said, ‘Ewwww,’ and did a little dance because I wanted it all off me and didn’t have anything with which to clean myself.
There was something that was probably yoghurt stuck to my left shoe and what appeared to be soggy cereal stuck to the hem of my skirt.
Looking around in what felt like futile hope, I found a shrub with some broad leaves. It was the best I could do, and they were effective at getting the soggy cereals off at least.
I was so preoccupied by trying to de-gunk myself, I failed to hear someone unlocking the backdoor from inside.
B & E
From the corner of my eye, I saw the back door swing open. I swear my heart simply stopped beating and I could feel the colour drain from my face as the horror of getting caught hit me like a wrecking ball.
At once I felt sick and weak and wished I’d chosen to just stay at home today. Who on Earth was in John Ramsey’s house? Was it the police? Shane said the chief inspector would be watching me. Had Quinn anticipated that I would come here? Or was it one of John’s relatives? I didn’t think his parents were still alive but maybe he had a sibling who was now left with the task of sorting their dead brother’s estate.
‘Are you all right, Auntie?’ asked Mindy as the door swung wide enough to reveal who was behind it.
Buster barked, ‘We found a key.’
Unable to believe my eyes, I gasped, ‘Mindy, what are you doing in there? You’ve broken in!’
‘No, Auntie, we used a key. It was
