Murder in the Aisle by Kris Pearson

Author:Kris Pearson [Pearson, Kris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780995102187
Publisher: Kris Pearson
Published: 2019-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8 – A visit from surfer John

I was wishing now that I’d asked Alex for his cell number. I could hardly phone Jim Drizzle and ask him to give Alex a message from me without making His Lordship suspicious. However, the teddies were always on for a walk so I decided to have lunch, follow that up with another look at the files, and then take the road past Drizzle Farm again – me hoping for a glimpse of Jim or Alex, and the teddies no doubt looking forward to another whiff of stinky boots.

There was most of a bag of sliced bread in the freezer and cheese in the fridge. Surprisingly good cheese. Blue from Kapiti and Vintage cheddar from Mainland. I ate some chunks of the lovely blue while I waited for two slices of bread to toast under the grill. Then I flipped them over and layered some Vintage on the other side, peppered it well, and slid it back until the cheese had melted and was hot and runny and delicious. A glass of wine would have made it a perfect lunch but no wine in sight, sadly.

I added some to my mental shopping list. Steak for the curry, wine for whenever, something to make a change from the Pup-E-Love for the teddies, real butter (because Isobel only had a pot of something pale yellow, ambitiously labelled ‘spread’), and I’d better check she had decent rice in the pantry, too.

The teddies were snoozing in the dotty dog bed so I tiptoed out with my laptop and locked the house. That may have been overkill, but if I was going to be concealed in the secret office then anyone could sneak into the house. A surfer, a vicar, a motorbike courier…

I signalled the garage door to open. The teddies heard it rolling up of course, and two little white bodies came barrelling out of the dog door and across the concrete, determined to be given a ride to wherever I was going. I felt terrible beeping my Ford Focus so they’d scamper in that direction but it gave me time to get into the garage and start the door closing again. They glared at me from the other side of the yard, knowing they’d been duped.

‘Teddies, I’m so sorry,’ I muttered. ‘Good dinner later to make up for it.’

I unlatched the shelves, holding my breath in case it didn’t work this time, but I needn’t have worried. The unit opened smoothly and I pulled it closed again behind me. There was plenty of light streaming through the ceiling window at this time of day so I barely needed the desk lamp.

I settled onto the very nice chair, pushed Enter so the screen sprang to life, (and relaxed a little once it did), and opened my laptop so I could research stuff without leaving a trail the Police could follow on Isobel’s iMac. Or possibly Tom’s iMac.

I opened the Burkeville Bar file first. Once I’d given it a much more in-depth read than my quick squiz the previous evening, I started to shake.

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