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to get the bridge clear for the locals, but we still need to do a full investigation.’ Briefly, as they walked along the lane below George’s cottage up on the bank, he remembered Ashleigh’s contention, and his own, that George might equally be the victim of a lucky, or a stunningly clever, crime.

‘I suppose so.’

Tyrone, who was guarding the bridge, had taken his hat off as the mourners passed, something he saw was being greeted with approval even though the coffin was no longer there. Jude nodded to him, then carried on at Becca’s side.

‘Jude,’ she said, looking away from him, ‘can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

She put his handkerchief into her pocket. He expected she’d return it, washed and pressed, via his mother, in due course. ‘I’m worried about Ryan.’

‘That’s your cousin from Australia, right?’ Jude had a clear memory of him from the time when they’d passed on the street between Becca’s house and his mother’s. What he remembered most immediately was the surliness of both his tone and his words.

‘Yes. He isn’t here.’

‘Were you expecting him?’

‘Yes. He’s gone off wild camping for a bit, but I spoke to him after George died and told him when and where the funeral was, and he said he’d come along.’ She hesitated. ‘I don’t really think he’s got into any trouble. He’s not a rookie. He’s in the army so he’s done a whole lot of survival stuff. But it doesn’t matter how experienced you are. You can still have an accident.’

‘In which case it’s the mountain rescue people you should be speaking to.’

‘Yes, but I don’t know exactly where he is. Last time I spoke to him he said he was somewhere in the Pennines, but that could mean anything and anywhere.’ She fussed at the hanky again. ‘I don’t know why I’m even asking you. There’s nothing you can do, and even if there was you’d be far too busy. As usual.’

That stung. ‘I’m not too busy to take half a day to turn up at George’s funeral when there’s a murder investigation on.’

‘That’s different.’ She scowled back at Tyrone, in total contrast to her usual sunny nature.

It was a struggle to be dispassionate at the best of times with Becca, and Jude could see she was upset, but he wouldn’t allow himself to respond to it. Since she’d started dating Adam he’d seen more signs of discontent and less evidence of her open and honest heart, as if his former friend’s bitterness had spread to her.

Recognising the signs of the way she responded to distress — and hadn’t he seen that same thing on the day of George’s death? — he plunged his hands into his trouser pockets and waited for the storm to break. He was bitter, too, and between them she and Adam had given him plenty to be bitter about. ‘Different? Why?’

‘It just is. I don’t know why you came here but you obviously didn’t come here to support me.’

His patience ran out. ‘Why the hell would I? Adam’s the one who should be supporting you.’ But he wasn’t surprised Adam wasn’t there. George hadn’t liked him, and Adam had a flexible social conscience. ‘After the way you’ve behaved to me recently, it’s in my own interests to be very careful where you’re concerned.’

Her scowl deepened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I did everything I could to help you on the day George died, and so did Ashleigh. God knows I’m not looking for gratitude, but I don’t need my good nature thrown back in my face, either.’

She stopped just before they reached her car, and glared at him. ‘Okay, I shouldn’t have flown at you, but I was upset, and I apologised. It was trivial. I’ll apologise again if it makes you feel better. Don’t tell me you’re going to hold that against me. It’s not like you to be so petty. Maybe you need to take a long hard look at yourself.’

Funeral or not, in full view of a selection of his colleagues or not, Jude wasn’t putting up with that. ‘You think it’s petty? You put my career at risk over something you’ve just described as trivial and apologised for and you tell me I need to look at myself? Jesus, Becca. What kind of satisfaction do you get out of it? What kind of pleasure does that give you?’

‘I don’t get any pleasure out of it. I don’t like being angry with anyone. I don’t like anyone being angry with me. And I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve that.’

‘Then why go out of your way to make my life difficult?’

‘What are you taking about?’

‘The complaint. What do you think?’

‘Complaint?’ She pulled out the hanky again and dabbed at her eyes. A streak of mascara transferred itself from her eyelashes to the hanky, leaving a bruising blur on her cheekbone.

Even in his fury, he had to stop himself reaching out in a futile attempt to wipe it away. ‘Yes. The complaint you put in about what happened last Saturday.’

‘I didn’t complain.’

‘Don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me. There was no-one but you and me there. Okay, so I can guess Adam will have put you up to it, but you did it.’

For a second they stood and stared at each other. A sudden breath of wind tweaked her hair across her face and she flicked it away. ‘What you did was totally inappropriate.’

‘What I did? I didn’t do anything. For Christ’s sake, Becca. I thought we were friends.’

Becca, breaking free, got into her car, slammed the door and drove away.

Twenty

‘There’s no need to look so thoughtful.’ Scott bounced in through the back entrance to the cafe, when Ashleigh had been looking out for him at the front. She didn’t normally allow anyone to surprise her like that, but she’d been trying her best to be casual and not stare out for him like a teenager terrified of being stood up. ‘Unless someone’s died. But someone probably has, of

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