Death on the Lake by Jo Allen (rocket ebook reader txt) 📕

‘That cat looks just like Holmes,’ said Jude, with a chuckle.

‘How does Holmes choose the right fly to snatch at?’

‘The biggest and the loudest, usually. Though I grant you that isn’t necessarily the right one. So maybe the cards are on the right track there.’

Ashleigh picked the cards up and shuffled them into the pack before fanning the whole lot out and sorting through. ‘This one is the Seven of Swords.’

He looked at it, at the furtive young man scampering away with an armful of weapons. ‘That’s the name of the Neilsons’ boat, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. Miranda Neilson said she got the idea from a fortune teller but I think it’s a very strange card for someone to identify with. It’s all about lies and deceit.’

‘I remember you telling me once that you identify with the Fool, and I’d say you were anything but a fool.’

‘Yes. But people choose a card and identify with it, and it isn’t always the one that other people would choose for them, though it tells you a lot about the way they see themselves. You’re right about me and the Fool. And I always think of Scott as the Three of Swords, which is about love and broken hearts and so on. But he would never in a million years see himself in that card.’

‘So who does he think he is?’

‘I don’t know.’ Jude, to Ashleigh’s mind, was the Emperor, stern and just. Earlier, Becca had come into the conversation and now Ashleigh herself had, unintentionally, brought Scott in to join her. She wasn’t surprised by his next question.

‘Do you hear from him much?’

There was a reason Ashleigh hadn’t been put out that Jude hadn’t told her of his encounter with Becca. She’d kept things from him in her turn. Now was the time for them to come out. ‘I spoke to him last week, and he called me again this evening. He’s applied for Summer’s job and he’s coming up at the weekend for an interview.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously that he’s coming up for an interview, but do I think he’ll take it if he gets it? No. He’d hate it.’ Scott was born for the sun and the good life. She could only hope he had enough sense to remember that.

‘Will you see him when he’s here?’

‘I’ve said I’ll meet him for lunch, but only for old times’ sake.’

‘Right.’

The scepticism of that single word niggled at her. ‘I know what you think.’

‘I know you still have feelings for him. You told me.’

‘You still have feelings for Becca.’

‘Not right now, I don’t. Not after what happened this morning.’ He folded his lips into a thin line, took the cards and picked out the Seven of Swords. ‘That’s probably the one useful thing I’ve learned in all the times I’ve let you lead me astray. Subliminally or otherwise, Miranda Neilson sees herself as someone who’s a deceiver and a manipulator, or else the victim of deceit and manipulation.’

She smiled as he slid the deck back into its box. ‘You see? You’re starting to see the way to enlightenment. And if you want me to lead you astray there are plenty of other ways I can do it.’ And then she took the cards off him, slid her arms round him and leaned in to receive his offered kiss.

Seventeen

Luke Helmsley had never loved Summer and lacked both emotional and academic intelligence, but he wasn’t stupid. He had an animal cunning, an instinct for wrongdoing in others that was accompanied by a sneaking admiration, even envy, of it. He’d lived in Martindale all his life and had no desire to go anywhere else, and he saw its comings and goings just as George had, only without the level of open interest. Some things intrigued him, though, and the sudden death of the old man was one of them — so soon after Miranda Neilson had been in to see him, so soon after Luke himself had revealed to George that he’d seen her in the dale when she shouldn’t have been there.

He topped out the piece of wall he’d been working on and stepped back to look at it. It was grand piece of work. Left to himself he’d spend his whole life dry stone walling, but at some stage his boss would decide that the job was done and there would be something less satisfying for him to do — fencing, or shifting stock from A to B and back again.

In the meantime, there was still the matter of Summer and the Neilsons. He wished he’d paid more attention when she’d wittered on about going to talk to Miranda about something. That would have put him in a position of greater strength than he thought he already was. But he knew enough to turn it to his benefit.

Miranda had been driving up the dale at a time when she said she wasn’t, he was sure of that. If she denied it, it would come down to her word against his and nobody would believe him, but maybe it wouldn’t come to that. If he thought she’d killed Summer it might have been worth taking it to the police, because after all he had a basic sense of justice and while a fight in a pub was something that should just be left to those involved, murder was different. He couldn’t see how, or why, Miranda could have done it so there was no need to dirty his hands by turning her in to the police.

She didn’t want people to know where she’d been, though. Maybe it was her husband she was worried about. He grinned. Miranda was a good-looking woman and Robert was away a lot, so a fancy man wasn’t out of the question. That had to be worth a few grand for his silence and even if that wasn’t the reason and she’d nothing to fear from her husband, the police wouldn’t