Out Comes the Evil Page 3
He snuffled into his mustache.
‘Where’s Harry?’ Alex softened her voice and smiled. ‘That’s the problem with being a fixture anywhere. If you aren’t there, you’re missed.’
‘I suppose you think you’re subtle,’ he snapped back. ‘There are questions being asked about Harry and that woman. It’s obvious. There’s nothing between them. Never was anything but a conversation here and there. That’s the end of it.’
‘By that woman you mean, Pamela Gibbon, poor girl?’ Mary asked innocently. ‘Where can she be? You’d think someone would know. And she didn’t take her car, isn’t that what I heard?’
‘I heard it, too,’ Alex said rapidly, anxious to divert Major Stroud.
‘Saw her just the other day,’ Mary said. ‘She’s not a collector like you, Alex, but she does come into the shop for tea and she looks through any books that have just come in. She bought one or two.’
‘Oh,’ Alex said in mock horror. ‘I hope you didn’t forget to pull any children’s volumes I might be looking for.’ She collected hard-to-find children’s books.
‘Something about horses – no surprise there,’ Mary said. ‘And an old copy of a Kama Sutra book. She was thrilled with them.’ Her expression never changed from one of pure innocence.
Alex swallowed and tried not to look at Major Stroud.
‘Well,’ Harriet said. ‘You should have told me about that. I’m not so old I don’t know what Kama Sutra is and neither are you, Mary, so take that silly look off your face.’
‘Could have been a gift for Harry,’ Mary said. ‘They say he has broad interests.’
It was hard not to laugh. Mary had an evil sense of humor and both women, former teachers who had taught Alex as a small girl, were sharp enough to hurt sometimes.
‘You’re making something out of nothing,’ the major sputtered. ‘Harry’s in the City for the day. He’s got an important and busy job. Be back later. And he wouldn’t want or need that book.’ He turned slightly purple.
‘I’m sure he wouldn’t.’ Harriet smiled. ‘A man of the world like him. I expect he’ll pop in at any moment. He’s the speaker for that women’s group tonight – over at the old Women’s Institute place. I might even go myself now it looks as if it could be more interesting. What do the members call themselves? Are you going, Alex?’
She did some speedy thinking. ‘TA. That’s the name of it. They must know what it stands for. You’d have to ask one of them.’
‘Vivian Seabrook knows all about it.’
‘The woman who runs the stables and riding school up at Derwinters’ place?’ The major frowned. ‘She looks like one of the horses. And Harry’s going to talk about God knows what for her and that bunch of disgruntled females. He’s probably going to explain why they’d have men in their lives if they knew their place.’ His laugh came more from his nose than his mouth, a honking snort. ‘Not that I’m sure Vivian wouldn’t prefer to be a man herself.’
‘Would you excuse us, please, Major?’ Alex said pleasantly. The man was amazingly crass, stuck in some other century, but usually more amusing than annoying. ‘Harriet and Mary have something to discuss with me. Tell Hugh I want you to sample one of the new meat pies.’
She waited while he stared at her, before adding, ‘From the bakery. George’s makes the best cakes and pies. Some of them are steak and ale. I know that’s your favorite.’ Hauling Bogie into her arms she managed to keep her face pointed at the floor until Major Stroud got up from his chair and his brown suede lace-up shoes moved away.
Mary said, ‘Don’t laugh, Harriet,’ and managed to sound severe.
‘He’s an idiot,’ Harriet said. ‘How that wife of his stands him, I’ll never know. And since I’m being honest, so is his son an idiot. What does TA stand for?’
Alex nuzzled Bogie’s wet nose into her neck. ‘I knew you’d ask. You’ll have to ask Vivian.’
‘She makes me nervous. Competent, horsey women always make me nervous.’
‘Harriet! She’s a strong woman, just like you. Be nice.’ She sat down in the major’s vacated chair. Bogie gave a huge, satisfied sigh when she moved him to her lap.
Alex studied the swags of dried hops looped along age-blackened beams. They’d started to get brittle and it would soon be time for new ones. The fire was always the heart of the place. Flames reflected in the bright surfaces of horse brasses and turned the elderly sisters’ faces pink.
A Slade School of Art graduate, a successful graphic artist and then head of a department in her husband’s, Mike Bailey-Jones’, advertising firm until their divorce, she could never have imagined becoming the owner of a pub. She loved this place now.
The buzz in the bar covered for the silence that had fallen at the table by the fire. Harriet and Mary looked thoughtful, too, but Alex could feel them working toward a fresh barrage of questions and comments.
‘How’s that cat?’ Mary asked suddenly.
Alex winced. ‘Tony had to take the infected eye out but I think he’ll do well with a lot of loving and patience.’
‘Poor thing,’ the sisters said in unison.
‘I’m going to put up a notice to see if someone’s interested in taking him. He’s a survivor and you should have seen how brave he was for the surgery.’
Harriet and Mary gave each other a significant look. ‘Does that mean you stayed with him?’
‘It isn’t a clinic day so Radhika wasn’t coming in until later. Tony told me what to do so I could help – not that I did much but stroke the cat.’
‘Smug’ replaced ‘significant’ in the sisters’ expressions and Harriet said, ‘He trusts you to help him like that because he knows you’re up to it.’
‘I’m sure you’re very fond of each other,’ Mary added. ‘I expect it’s a bit difficult when you were friends as children.’ She cleared her throat.
Alex didn’t give either of them any encouragement to continue where they were heading … toward less than subtle suggestions about her getting together with Tony. Already, she spent some puzzling times trying to figure out where they were going, and if she should make a move if she wanted to. Frequently she felt as if he were watching her, waiting for some signal about what she felt for him. Or perhaps she just imagined what she hoped was true.
She caught a movement from the corner of her eye and turned around. Lily Duggins had come through an archway from the restaurant and inn wing of the Black Dog. Alex’s mother ran that hectic part of the business with the ease of long practice. Lily had worked at the Dog since she was a single mum bringing up her little daughter.
She beckoned to Alex. There was no missing the likeness between mother and daughter. The silver strands in Lily’s dark curls were becoming more numerous and she was statuesque beside Alex, but they both had the same green eyes the kids had called ‘witchy’ when Alex was in school.
‘Excuse me a minute,’ she said to the sisters. ‘I’m being called.’
‘What’s up?’ she asked when she reached her mum.
‘Come through.’ She led Alex into the empty restaurant. ‘Obviously you’ve heard about Pamela Gibbon?’
‘Yes. I’m scared for her.’
‘I think I saw her,’ Lily said, keeping her voice to a whisper. ‘Three nights ago. I was on my way over from the cottage.’ Lily lived at Corner Cottage, across Main Street from the Black Dog, one of a row of cottages that backed onto the village green.
Alex felt first hot, then cold. ‘Why did you think you saw her? Where was she?’
‘I’m afraid to raise hopes. She came from the Dog – the main entrance – but she didn’t answer when I called out to her.’
‘But you’re sure it was her?’
‘It was dark,’ Lily said. ‘She was hurrying away but she had to hear me.’
‘She might not have, mum. If she had something on her mind and she was in a hurry. And you aren’t completely sure it was her, are you?’
Lily shrugged. ‘Do I tell the police or not?’
‘Sorry,’ Alex continued, ‘I should only be thinking about Pamela and we don’t know she hasn’t decided to take off somewhere.’
Her mum frowned and tented her fingers against her chin, a familiar gesture when Lily Duggins was stressed. ‘Pamela’s always been a bit distant, at least with women, but she’s a good sort and she likes living in Folly. If she hadn’t she could easily have left after her husband died. She’s made her life here.’
‘True.’ But racking up points against Pamela leaving on a whim, for a trip or something, didn’t make Alex feel better. ‘I just want her to turn up. I’m going to reach out to her more, try to help her believe people here care about her.’
Their eyes met. They both knew she was doing her best not to believe anything bad had happened to Pamela Gibbon.
Striding into the restaurant, his Barbour jacket flapping, trousers tucked into green Hunter boots, Tony looked perturbed and ruffled. He also looked wonderfully solid and reassuring. ‘Lily,’ he said, ‘excuse me for interrupting but I’d like to borrow Alex if I may.’
Alex held her mother’s arms. ‘Don’t do anything yet, OK? Wait till I get back from seeing how the cat’s doing.’
Bogie shot ahead of them and the outer door closed. Tony stopped and squinted at the blue sky. ‘This isn’t about the cat. He’s coming along well. Can you help me with a re-enactment or whatever they call it? Once it’s dark tonight? I hope I’m wrong but I thought I saw a woman hiding by the road into the hills. It was three nights ago as far as I can place it. It was one of those snap decisions. If there was someone there, they obviously didn’t want to be seen. So I drove on. Damn, I wish I’d followed my first instinct and stopped.’
THREE
Later that evening, Alex crouched where Tony had told her to wait, close to a clump of bushes beside the road. His headlights picked up her pale face as he drove on the other side. As he’d suggested, when he drew almost level, she ducked down and became invisible.
He made a U-turn and came to a stop on a stony grass verge just past Alex. She crunched rapidly to meet him when he jumped out of the Land Rover with Bogie close behind. ‘Could you see me? Did it work?’
‘Bloody hell, why didn’t I stop.’ Frustration overwhelmed him. Stuffing Bogie’s lead into one pocket of his coat, he dropped his torch into another one and shoved his hands under his coat, on his hips. ‘I saw you just fine.’
‘And now you’re blaming yourself because Pamela’s missing? What sense does that make? You don’t even know if it was her you saw – or if it was anyone. Tonight you knew where I was and you were looking. You were likely to see me.’
Rationalizations didn’t untwist his gut. ‘Thanks.’
Alex caught his arm in both of her hands. ‘You do guilt too well, my friend. Too well. You’re the most thoughtful man I’ve ever known. You made a decision and it was the right one for that moment.’ She hugged him quickly, leaned on him.
A better man wouldn’t be so pleased to hear how much she trusted him. And he wouldn’t be giving a second thought to pressing an advantage even if he spent so much time thinking about just that, finding and pressing an advantage with Alex. They had work to do and fast if there was any hope of having an impact on what had happened to Pamela.
He rubbed her hands and kissed the top of her head lightly. ‘I hope you’re right about that.’ Being careful not to push too soon or too hard with Alex had probably robbed him of a chance of something more with her. ‘The most thoughtful man’ she’d ever known wasn’t the way he wanted her to think of him.
‘Where would someone go from those bushes – in the dark like this? This is around the time you drove by before? It’s not so late but you can’t see much.’
When Alex moved away from him, he almost sighed. ‘She – or whoever it was – was probably waiting to cross the road without being seen.’
‘There’s a bit of a beaten-down path leading up the hillside somewhere around here,’ Alex said. She wore jeans, and a down gilet over a high-necked jumper and a cardigan, much as she had when she left him at his clinic that morning.
‘Come on, and you stay close, Bogie.’ At a rapid clip, she crossed the road and started searching, carefully, between more scrubby wild shrubs and bushes. Bogie snuffled along, his black ears perked up. A dog on a mission with his person.
Tony put away the keys to the Land Rover and followed.
The chilly breeze felt as if it would bring a shower, but the moon still slunk along a livid sky, silver behind thin veils of charcoal clouds.
‘Alex.’ He remembered bringing his dog Katie this way on a walk. ‘I think there’s a sort of path that goes all the way to—’
‘To Ebring Manor?’ she cut him off. ‘What’s left of it. Bogie and I have gone that way. Looks like he’s found the trail again.’
‘If this leads to anything useful, it’ll be almost too easy,’ he told her. ‘Take my hand, we’ll go faster.’
She laughed through gasps. ‘In other words, I need help from someone stronger.’
‘Yes. I’m supposed to be stronger. Anything wrong with that?’
She grabbed his hand and leaned into the hill. ‘I’m not proud,’ she said. ‘I just find men and their egos funny sometimes. I wouldn’t change places with you. This might be easier if we really knew our way.’
He paused to let them both catch breath. ‘I’m starting to think this path is pretty well used.’ His torch switched back and forth ahead of them. ‘It looks trampled.’
An unexpected gust turned into wind and zipped through the almost bare trees, whipping the last scratchy skeletons of winter leaves into their faces. He glanced down at Alex, his torchlight picking out the gleam of her green eyes, and remembered how the kids had called them ‘witchy.’ She had put up with a lot from the children of narrow-minded parents, including whispers of ‘bastard.’ He was glad he’d been around, and that he’d been older and bigger than the bully bunch.
He had always thought her beautiful, but unaffected. The feelings that went along with those reactions only intensified.
‘Did I say Harry didn’t show up for the women’s meeting at the parish hall tonight?’
He paused. ‘The hell you say. You didn’t tell me. Has anyone seen him at all?’
‘He called to say he had to stay in the city. At least he let them know he wasn’t coming.’
Tony pushed a low branch out of their way. ‘Whoever he spoke to would have asked if Pamela was with him. Not that he had to say one way or the other. We can hope she is.’
‘This is a weird evening,’ Alex said when they ploughed on. ‘It’s trying to be ominous. Or is that just in my head? I do love every season in this place. Too bad I had to leave it for a few years to find out how great it is.’
He looked toward her again, briefly, and squeezed her hand. They knew enough about one another not to rehash old demons, but they also understood that they still lived with those demons.
Bogie had shot ahead and was out of sight. With Alex, Tony broke out of the trees and looked ahead to where the outline of what had once been ancient Ebring Manor stood out, luminous and pallid on a large mound. The stubby drum tower and a few other pieces of the original buildings thrust sharply into the purple sky. The clouds looked like smoke from a smoldering fire now.
‘What do we hope to find here?’ Alex said. ‘There isn’t anyone else here that I can see.’ She shivered forcefully and pulled her hand from his to wrap her arms around herself. ‘There’s no noise but I could swear everything is popping around me. It’s all alive and I hate it.’
‘Alex?’
Dark curls tossed forward around her pale face. ‘Nothing,’ she said.
‘No, it’s not nothing, what’s the matter?’
She looked grim and cold, neither of which mad
e particular sense. ‘Leave it, Tony.’
Puzzled, he planted himself in front of her. ‘I’m not going to leave it.’
‘I’ve got a feeling.’ She breathed out hard through her nose. ‘I’d rather not give more ammunition for the stories about me being a bit spooky, but I do get … premonitions. Forget it. It’s nothing, just a feeling, that’s all.’
‘Bogie’s heading for the tower,’ he said, glad of an excuse to switch topics. Delving into things she’d obviously rather not discuss wasn’t a good thing. They respected one another’s privacy – perhaps too much.
Stepping over the stones that made up the boundary of the building, they took off after Bogie. It wasn’t an easy climb. Once inside the tower and halfway up a second flight of broken steps, the dog waited for them at the top. He ran away as soon as he saw them.
Tony was the first into the partially roofless top level. He shone his torch around the area, aiming first at the purple-tinged sky, then around the bare stone floor.
A bump moving under a rumpled tarpaulin gave Bogie’s whereabouts away. The tarp and whatever it covered were pushed under what remained of the roof.
‘Someone’s been camping out up here,’ Tony said, picking up a corner of the heavy waxed sheet. ‘Or something.’ He threw back the tarp, revealing a rolled-up quilt and what looked like a sleeping bag. It was two sleeping bags, zipped together, and there was a rolled up airbed.
‘Looks well used but it’s expensive stuff,’ Alex said. ‘Pillows in plastic bags. What’s this? A down blanket. A box of cutlery. Plates. Glasses. All mod cons.’ She shivered visibly.
‘Someone walking on your grave again?’ Tony said, and grimaced. ‘That wasn’t a bright thing to say.’
‘I don’t want to stay around here.’ She pushed her hands inside the sleeves of her cardigan and shivered again. ‘Bogie’s gone back down. I don’t want him running off.’ She met Tony’s eyes and he didn’t recall her looking at him in quite that way before. Anxious, but searching, as if she were trying to read him at some deep level.