A Country Gift Shop Collection: Three cosy crime novels that will keep you guessing!. Vivian Conroy

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      Admitting that to Cash made her feel bad and disloyal. She tried hard to explain Mortimer Gill was the real culprit, because he always managed to get people worked up over him. “His remarks about Gwenda last night were rather rude. Calling her show dog an ugly mutt. Saying she needed another poor sucker to pay for her. And I dealt with Mortimer only for one day in the store for my fireplace and then I had already had my fill of his smug remarks and the freedom he took with my time. He can be so self-centered you just want to—”

      “Kill him, huh?” Cash concluded dryly.

      Vicky pursed her lips and leaned back in the chair. “I don’t like it when you twist my words. And when is this finally over? It’s getting later and later. I told you all I know; I have nothing to add. When are you going to let me go?”

      “Maybe never, huh?” Cash fumed. “I can keep you, indefinitely, if you refuse to cooperate. Just think about that for a few minutes.”

      She tilted her head and held his gaze. Cash looked back at her, trying to maintain a stern face. First he began to frown, then to blink, and finally he looked away. “Aw, Vicky…” His voice was weary. “What do you expect me to do?”

      She clenched her hands together, her nails digging into her palms. “On the night of the fire at Perkins’ barn, you were supposedly at a bar fight. Were you really?”

Chapter Ten

      Cash looked up at her, his eyes wide with alarm. He seemed to want to say something, then bit it back. He checked his watch ostentatiously. “I suppose it’s been a long night already. And your mother is waiting for you at the desk.”

      “What? My mom is here and you never even told me?” Vicky got up. “I have to go see her.” Her blood pounded with anger that her old mother had been forced to come out to a police station in the dead of night, just because Cash had kept her so long, for no real reason.

      And he was lying about something.

      That didn’t just make her angry, but also scared. What was going on in their town?

      Forcing conviction into her voice, she said, “I’m going home now. If you need me again, just give me a call. I’m not leaving town. I’ve got a store to finish.”

      Without another word Cash got up as well and took her from the interrogation room down the corridor to the reception desk.

      And there Claire was, with Mr. Pug and Coco. Both dogs greeted Vicky like she’d been released after a long sentence and they hadn’t seen her all that time.

      “I suppose some parents have to pick their children up at the police station,” Claire said accusingly. “When they’re fifteen, for joyriding or something silly like that. Not at your age, and certainly not in relation to a dead body.”

      She looked Vicky over. “A good thing they didn’t ask me to post bail. I’m not sure I would have had enough money in the house.”

      “I was not arrested, only taken along for questioning. It’s standard procedure when you happen to find a dead body.” For distraction Vicky picked up Coco and cuddled the dog.

      “That’s just it,” Claire groused. “How on earth did you end up beside a dead body? It’s Michael Danning. Things go wrong whenever he’s around. Never go near him again. Promise me.”

      “It wasn’t Michael’s fault,” Vicky protested. The deputy who manned the desk followed the conversation with interest. Vicky figured he’d report any word she said to Cash.

      Noticing it too, Claire gestured Vicky to follow her outside where the ancient dark green Ford of a friend was waiting for them. The little blue-haired lady climbed out of the driver’s seat, clasping her hands when she saw Vicky. “You are released,” she cried, “so soon.”

      It sounded like the excitement was over more quickly than she would have liked.

      Vicky sighed and hissed to Claire, “Did you have to bring her? I bet by now all of Glen Cove knows about it.”

      “I needed a car, honey. It’s two miles. And of course Glen Cove knows about it. It was on the news.”

      Vicky felt her jaw sag. She had actually made the news. “I’d rather have made it with my gift shop, and not with this.”

      “You might still have a chance to do that. If you leave Michael Danning alone. Now get in and we can go home. You’re staying with me tonight. I’ll make you a nice big breakfast in the morning.”

      Vicky’s stomach growled at the thought of hot food. Because she had been taken in for questioning, she had never had any dinner.

      Claire took the front passenger seat with the dogs, while Vicky got into the cramped back. The elderly driver zigzagged over the deserted road, turning the radio’s tuning button, looking for news about the murder. She chattered that it had been on the midnight news already, because some neighbor had called it in. Vicky wondered who it could have been as Mortimer lived pretty secluded. Then of course sirens did sound over a large distance, and perhaps somebody had followed the police car to see what was up.

      Vicky yawned and rubbed her eyes. She wished she had tried harder to persuade Michael to leave Mortimer’s things alone. That he had searched them made him look suspect, and then there was his phone number on Mortimer’s little list.

      With Michael arrested, they would be more or less obliged to prove somebody else had killed Mortimer, to exonerate him. And right now Vicky had no idea how to do that.

      Right now she only wanted to dive into a nice clean bed and have eight hours of undisturbed sleep.

      “Vicky! Get up and get dressed. At once.”

      Vicky moaned and rolled over. Her mother’s voice increased in volume. “Get up right away. There is someone here to see you.” The curtains were pulled open in a whoosh, and bright sunlight flooded the guestroom. “Make sure you put on some makeup and wear your hair down. It makes you look so much younger.”

      “Mo-hom…” Vicky hid under the duvet. She felt like she had just slept for an hour or two. She needed much more to get the weariness out of her bones. And she really had no idea why she’d have to look younger. “What time is it?”

      “Nine. You should be ashamed of yourself to be in bed at this hour. What do you think people will say when they hear…”

      “I got home by three-thirty. I was bushed. I want to sleep. Tell whoever it is that I will call later today. And please close the curtains again.”

      “Now, Victoria…” the duvet was yanked away “…it is not polite to keep guests waiting. And this is a very dear friend of the family. Get up and shower and dress right now, or I will come back in here and drop a wet washrag in your face.”

      Vicky understood there was no point in arguing and scrambled to sit up. She had to get moving anyway, find out if Michael had been released as well. If he wasn’t, Marge might know a good lawyer. “All right, all right. Keep your hair on. I’m already getting up.”

      Claire grunted in satisfaction and СКАЧАТЬ