Murder at Owlwood Vicarage by McClatchie A. S

Author:McClatchie, A. S.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: April Showers Publishing
Published: 2023-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

5

17th December

Remy was waiting for her at the church, leaning on the bonnet of his car with a coffee and tea from the café in Whitebourne in each hand.

“You’re an angel,” Genny said, taking the tea from him. “And I brought mince pies from the bakery. I figured we could have a treat for breakfast with everything that’s going on.”

“Oh, that was a very good idea,” he said, taking one from the container she produced from her bag. “Hang on, who is running your bakery today? I’d hate for you to have to close it in your first week of being open!”

“Don’t worry, Mum happily volunteered,” Genny reassured him. “Though she might eat more of the stock than she sells.”

“That’s good of her.”

“She’s quite taken with the community,” Genny said. “She made a lot of friends in the Solent Island Women’s Club last night, including June Setter.”

“Wow, she’s quite the socialite. You only left her alone for a couple of hours, maximum.”

“She’s always been like that. She can make friends wherever she goes.”

“It’s a useful skill that I do not possess,” Remy said, chewing his mince pie mournfully.

“People like you!” Genny insisted.

“People tolerate me,” he said.

“You brought all of those people into the bakery on my first day,” she pointed out.

“Perhaps they fear me.”

“You’re not scary.”

“Well, it’s definitely not my sunny attitude that hooks people in,” he replied sardonically before popping the rest of the mince pie into his mouth in one bite. Trying to hide his full mouth behind his hand he added, “Should we go in?”

“Let’s,” Genny agreed.

The police tape was still up, with a few PCs and dogs walking the perimeter.

“Morning, Inspector, Miss,” one said as they passed through the front door.

Remy looked at Genny amusedly as he replied to the PC, “Morning, Falinska.”

They walked through the door and across the hall. Genny held back a laugh as she said, “It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been called ‘Miss’.”

Abimbola was stood at the end of the hall by the serving hatch, drying containers with a tea towel.

“Oh, Genny, Detective Inspector Cochran,” she greeted them. “The police officers said that we could come in and use the kitchen. I hope I haven’t made a mistake?”

“Don’t worry, Abimbola,” Genny said quickly. “There’s no reason that you can’t continue your important work in the kitchen, isn’t that right DI Cochran?”

“Absolutely,” Remy replied. “Everything was photographed last night. If we need to close the kitchen at a later point we can, but for now, carry on.”

“Oh, good,” she replied, letting out a stilted breath. “Who are you here to see, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The verger,” Remy said. “Horace Kipper.”

Abimbola nodded, “He’s in the vestry steaming his cassock and gown for today’s service.”

“Today’s service?” Genny asked, looking to Remy pointedly.

“He’s opening the church for the congregation. They want to pray for Angellica.”

“Of course, that’s understandable,” Remy said, looking back at Genny with a ‘don’t worry’ nod. “Which way to the vestry please, Abimbola?”

“Through that corridor,” she said. “Second door on the left.

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