A Sprinkle of Sabotage by Fiona Leitch (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

Nathan gave me that smile of his, the one that started out small and ended up taking over most of his face. I always liked being on the business end of one of those smiles.

‘A bit of both,’ he said. He sniffed and I laughed.

‘You had breakfast?’

‘I was going to have some at the station,’ he said, eyeing the big tray of bacon I’d just set out. I picked up a roll and piled several rashers into it.

‘Sauce?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows.

‘I won’t say no if it’s you offering,’ he said, grinning, and I felt my cheeks get hot. I gave the plastic ketchup bottle a squeeze and it made a horrible farty noise. There went the atmosphere, again.

‘Better out than in…’ I shook the bottle and got some out this time, then handed him the roll in a serviette. ‘Sit down. I’ll come and join you.’

We sat at one of the picnic tables and I watched as Nathan nibbled far more delicately at the roll than I would have done. He seemed a bit awkward, anxious or something. I wondered what the matter was, and why he had really come to see me.

‘So…’ I said, but right at that moment he was having trouble with a stringy bit of bacon fat and couldn’t speak. ‘So, the mysterious phantom shoot saboteur has struck again, I reckon.’

He swallowed. ‘Really?’

I told him about the tungsten lights, the footprints in the flowerbed, and the shards of glass. He nodded thoughtfully.

‘Did you talk to the locksmith?’ I asked, and he nodded again.

‘Just briefly,’ he said. ‘Remember, this isn’t really an investigation, is it? So far, it’s just your copper’s instinct niggling at you. No one’s made a complaint. But I did pop in to ask about getting some keys cut, and I had a chat with him then.’ He dabbed at a spot of bacon grease on his sleeve. ‘Bugger… Anyway, I told him I’d heard about what happened, and I asked him if that sort of thing was a regular occurrence, as I was thinking of buying a caravan and wondered if there was anything I should be looking out for.’ He grinned. ‘Your mum was right.’

‘What? Really? It was superglue?’

He nodded. ‘He said it looked to him like someone had squirted something into the lock and it had set hard. He had to replace the whole thing – unscrew all the housing and take the entire unit off. He said he was about to go off and get a jigsaw so he could cut it out, when Tony climbed in and kicked the door open.’

‘So whoever the saboteur is, they did a proper job…’ I said thoughtfully. He nodded.

‘Yup. So do you have any ideas who it could be? You must have your ear to the ground here. Everyone must come and see you at some point.’

I shook my head. ‘Not really. I’ve been stuck in the truck most of the morning so far, apart from looking round the kitchen garden. Once the breakfast rush is over I’ll go walkabout, stick my nose into a few people’s business…’

He laughed. ‘That sounds like you. But be careful, okay? So far this person has been pretty harmless, but they might not stay that way, especially if they realise you’re sniffing around.’

‘I am always the soul of discretion,’ I said, and he laughed again.

‘But of course you are.’ He stood up. ‘I’d better go…’

‘Wait!’ I shot to my feet too. ‘You didn’t really come here to talk about the prankster, did you? What is it? Has something happened to your dad?’

‘No, no, nothing like that,’ he said, and he really did look awkward now. I felt a horrible lurch in my tummy. Good news was never delivered by a face wearing that expression. ‘It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just—’ He swallowed hard and I could see that he was making himself say it. ‘I’ve been offered a job back in Liverpool.’

It took a minute for his words to sink in, and then when they did, I didn’t quite believe I’d heard him right. No, no! I thought. He couldn’t go back to Liverpool, he just couldn’t.

‘What sort of job?’ I asked, stupidly. He rolled his eyes.

‘Hairdressing.’ Well, he did have good hair. ‘My old superintendent contacted me and told me about this new unit he’s heading up for Merseyside Police. Drugs and organised crime. He wants me to apply for a DCI position with him. He’s more or less said that if I want it, it’s mine.’

‘Oh … right,’ I said, my mind whirling. All I could think was no, no, no! But of course I didn’t say that. ‘Sounds like a good job.’

‘Yeah, it is.’

‘More room for career progression than sleepy Penstowan,’ I said.

‘Yeah.’

‘Near your parents,’ I said. Stop listing all the reasons why he should take it, I told myself in exasperation.

‘Yeah.’

Near your ex, I thought. Don’t say it… Don’t say it… ‘Does your ex still live there?’ Damn, I said it.

‘I don’t know,’ said Nathan, but I could tell he was lying. To his credit he realised it, and shrugged. ‘I assume she does. I haven’t heard that she’s moved or anything. But I’m not in touch with her, so I wouldn’t necessarily know if she had.’

‘So when do they want you to start?’ I asked, even though I didn’t want to think about him leaving. He gave a short laugh.

‘I haven’t even applied yet!’ he said. ‘Are you in a hurry to get rid of me or something?’

No, I don’t want you to go at all, I thought. But of course I didn’t say that either. I opened my mouth to say something – anything – but then his phone rang. As he reached into his pocket to answer it, I looked up and saw Faith and Jeremy approaching. I finally spoke up as Nathan looked at his phone in