Crime in the Café. Фиона Грейс

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “Are you re-styling the boutique?” Lacey asked gingerly, coming out from behind the desk and gesturing for Taryn to follow her.

      “I just want to inject a bit of character into the place,” the woman said as her heels clicked behind Lacey. “And as far as I can tell, those lamps are very in at the moment. I’m seeing them everywhere. At the hairdresser’s. In the coffeeshop. There were about a million of the things in Brooke’s tearoom…”

      Lacey froze. Her heart began thumping.

      Just the mention of her old friend’s name filled her with panic. It had barely been a month since her Australian friend had chased after her wielding a knife, trying to silence Lacey after she’d worked out she’d killed an American tourist. Lacey’s bruises had healed, but the mental scars were still fresh.

      So that’s why Taryn was asking for an Edison lamp? Not because she wanted one, but so she had an excuse to bring up Brooke’s name and upset Lacey! She really was a nasty piece of work.

      Losing all enthusiasm to help Taryn, even if she was a supposed customer, Lacey pointed limply over to “Steampunk Corner,” the section of the store where her collection of bronze lamps lived.

      “Over there,” she muttered.

      She watched Taryn’s expression turn sour as she scanned the array of aviator goggles and walking canes, and the full-sized aquanaut’s suit. To be fair to her, Lacey wasn’t that keen on the aesthetic either. But there was a whole bunch of individuals in Wilfordshire—the type with long black hair and velvet capes—who visited her store regularly, so she sourced the items specifically for them. The only problem was, the new section blocked her previously unspoiled view across the street to Tom’s patisserie, which meant Lacey could no longer dreamily gaze out at him whenever the mood struck her.

      With Taryn occupied, Lacey took the opportunity now to glance across the street.

      Tom’s store was as busy as ever. Busier, even, with the increased amount of tourists. Lacey could make out his six-foot-three figure darting around, working at hyperspeed to fulfill everyone’s orders. The light streaming in from the June sunshine made his skin look even more golden.

      Just then, Lacey caught sight of Tom’s new assistant, Lucia. He’d employed the young woman just a few weeks ago so that he would have more free time to spend with Lacey. But ever since the girl had started working there, the patisserie had been busier than ever!

      Lacey watched on as Lucia and Tom almost bumped into one another, then both took a step right, another left, attempting to avoid a collision but ending up in comical synchronization. The slapstick routine ended with Tom theatrically bowing, so Lucia could pass on his left. He flashed her one of his bright-kilowatt smiles as she did.

      Lacey’s stomach clenched at the sight of them. She couldn’t help it. Jealousy. Suspicion. These were all new emotions for Lacey, ones she seemed to have only acquired since her divorce, as if her ex-husband had slipped them within the pages of their divorce documents in order to make sure her future relationships were as fraught as possible. They were ugly feelings, but she couldn’t control them. Lucia got to spend significantly more time with Tom than she did. And the time she spent with him was when he was at his best—energized, creative, and productive, rather than snoozily watching television on her couch. Everything felt unbalanced, as if they were sharing Tom and the ratios were massively skewed in the young woman’s favor.

      “Pretty, isn’t she?” came Taryn’s voice in Lacey’s ear, like the devil on her shoulder.

      Lacey bristled. Taryn was just stirring the pot as usual.

      “Verrrrry pretty,” Taryn added. “It must drive you mad to know Tom’s over there all day with her.”

      “Don’t be stupid,” Lacey snapped.

      But Taryn’s appraisal was, to use a Gina idiom, “bang on.” That is to say, she was totally right. And that just made Lacey more frustrated.

      Taryn smiled thinly. A malevolent sparkle appeared behind her eyes. “I keep meaning to ask. How is your Spanish man? Xavier, wasn’t it?”

      Lacey bristled even more. “He’s not my Spanish man!”

      But before they could enter into a spat, the doorbell tinkled noisily, and Chester began to yip.

      Saved by the bell, Lacey thought, hurrying away from Taryn and her snakelike suggestions.

      But when she saw who was waiting, she wondered if it was a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire.

      Carol, from the B&B, was standing in the middle of the shop floor with a look of abject horror on her face. She seemed panicked, and was panting as if she’d run all the way here.

      Lacey felt her stomach lurch. A horrible sense of déjà vu overcame her. Something had happened. Something bad.

      “Carol?” Gina said. “What’s the matter, ducky? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

      Carol’s bottom lip began to tremble. She opened her mouth as if attempting to speak, but then closed it again.

      From behind, Lacey heard the clip-clip sound of Taryn’s heels as she hurried over, presumably wanting a ringside view of the unfolding drama.

      The anticipation was killing Lacey. She couldn’t bear it. Dread seemed to be flooding through every fiber of her body.

      “What is it, Carol?” Lacey demanded. “What’s happened?”

      Carol shook her head vigorously. She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I have some terrible news…”

      Lacey braced herself.

      CHAPTER TWO

      What could have happened?

      An accident?

      A… murder?

      God forbid, not another one!

      “Carol?” Lacey asked, her vocal cords feeling squeezed.

      The look of fear in Carol’s eyes as she paced back and forth across the shop floor was sending lightning bolts of panic straight through Lacey. Her stomach started somersaulting, as if she’d driven her secondhand Volvo off the side of the cliff and was careening toward the ocean below. She felt her hands begin to tremble as a succession of memories invaded her mind: Iris’s body lying on the floor of her manor house; Buck’s sand-smeared mouth as he lay deceased on the beach. Then the flashing images were joined by the sudden screech of police sirens in her ears, and that awful crinkly sound of the silver blanket the paramedics wrapped around her shoulders. And finally, she heard the voice of Superintendent Turner, echoing his warning in her mind. “Don’t leave town, okay?”

      Lacey grabbed the counter to steady herself, braced for whatever awful news Carol was about to deliver. She was barely able to focus on the woman who was pacing around the shop floor.

      “What is it?” Gina asked impatiently. “What’s happened?”

      “Yes, please hurry up and drop your bombshell,” Taryn said, lazily, waving the Edison lamp carelessly as she spoke. “Some of us have lives to get back to.”

      Carol finally stopped pacing. She turned СКАЧАТЬ