Soul to Keep by Clare Revell

Author:Clare Revell [Revell, Clare]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Fiction, inspirational fiction, Clean and Wholesome Novels, Religion and Spirituality
Publisher: Pelican Book Group
Published: 2020-03-20T00:00:00+00:00

12

Zander showed his ID at the gates of Deerwood Estates and was waved through. He grunted. “Maybe I should just move in here, the amount I’ve been here the past few weeks.”

“You and me both,” Isabel agreed. “But I can’t afford it. Ever. Besides, not sure I’d want to live here. It seems a bit, I don’t know, cliquey?”

“Snobbish is the word you’re looking for.” Zander swung around the corner.

“And the class system is still alive and kicking in the suburbs of Headley Cross. I used to dream of belonging somewhere as a kid, but never like this. It’d be like being locked in a palace. Nah, it’s not for me. I always wanted a home in the country, surrounded by loads of open space. No one for miles.”

Zander parked and turned off the engine. “Full of ye olde country aroma,” he drawled in a perfect country accent. “Along with giant cow pats and muddy tractor ruts. Up at four in the morning t’milk the cows, feed t’chickens, herd t’sheep, shear said sheep, collect the eggs from aforementioned chickens, and then go to school. Come home and do it all over again.”

“Not on a farm.” Isabel laughed. “Just, you know, somewhere pretty and peaceful and quiet. No traffic.”

“And no way for you to get to work, as you don’t drive.”

“I’ll ride a bike. Or a horse.” She got out of the car.

“You were born several decades too late.” Zander waved his ID at the policeman standing guard outside the house. He and Isabel dodged the tape and went inside.

The SOCO officer was just finishing up. “No sign of forced entry,” she said. “Everything neat and tidy. It doesn’t look as if she was taken from here.”

“OK. Thanks.”

“Zander?” Isabel’s voice came from the room to his right.

“Yeah?”

“She was into art in a big way. Look at this lot.”

Zander glanced around the room. An easel stood by the window, a painting set on it. Several finished works hung on the walls. A card for the gallery stood prominently on the mantelpiece and a brochure for the exhibition lay on the table.

“I recognise this one.” Isabel crossed the room, standing in front of a predominantly blue painting.

Zander stood beside her. “Wasn’t it hanging in the gallery when we interviewed Farrell about the break in?”

“Yep. I remember because I liked it, but the price was way out of my league. Eight hundred and fifty quid if I remember rightly. She must be well off if she can afford that. Never mind all the other pieces she has around the place.”

“It adds another link between the gallery and thefts and the murders. I’ll get the Sarge and Austin to go speak to Farrell.” He pulled his phone from his jacket.

“We can do it.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Seriously,” she said. “You’ll protect me if need be. Besides, I can do this. I have to do this, show I’m not scared of him any longer.”

Zander hesitated, reluctant to put her and Farrell in a room together under any circumstances. Then he shook his head.

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