Chapter Ten

JONATHON FOLLOWED Sue and Mike into the pub. She sank into one of the more comfortable chairs and gave Mike a hard stare. “Christ, I need a drink.”

Mike chuckled. “Why does not that not surprise me?” He grabbed a glass and turned to hold it up to an optic. “What about you, Jonathon? Do you want a drink?”

“Please. Just a Coke.”

Sue gestured to the empty chair beside her. “Sit down. Talk to me while we’ve got a breathing space, because he’ll be opening those doors again before long, and if I know Mike, he’s already roped you into helping out around here.”

Jonathon snickered. “Very astute. He’s had me making cocktails.”

Mike spun around. “Had you making cocktails? And there was I, thinking you were having fun.”

Jonathon laughed. “It was fun! I’m just waiting for you to make puppy-dog eyes at me and say, ‘Jon-a-thonnnn, can we do it again?’”

Sue stared at him and promptly burst out laughing. “Okay, what have I missed? Because considering you can’t have been here all that long, you two sound like an old married couple.” She gave Mike a searching glance. “Something I should know?”

Mike flushed. “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not like that.”

“Yet?” she asked with a grin, her eyes sparkling.

It was Jonathon’s turn to flush. He felt the heat crawling up his neck and over his cheeks.

Sue peered at him before turning to Mike. “I like him.”

“Yeah, I like him too.” Mike’s voice was gruff. “Now let’s talk about something else?”

Thankfully Sue took the hint. “That police inspector said you could stay at the manor now. Is that what you want?”

Jonathon had been considering that very thing on the way back from the police station. “Right now, I’m not sure. I know my father would be happier if I stayed there, but….”

“It feels too soon after Dominic’s death,” Mike finished for him.

Jonathon nodded. “I do want to go up there and take a look around, however.” There was something he needed to investigate.

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Here,” he said, tossing them across the bar to Jonathon. “Take my car. I’m gonna be busy setting up for the evening anyway.” He gave Sue a hard stare. “And you’re gonna help me. That way I know you’re keeping out of trouble.” He set a squat glass on the bar.

“Trouble?” Sue widened her eyes. “I—”

“And don’t bother with that ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ look. Don’t forget, I just picked you up from the police station.”

Jonathon laughed and left them to it.

He drove slowly through the village, taking it all in. There were little lanes that fed off from the main road, where pale, biscuit-colored thatched roofs could be glimpsed above hedges, set against the backdrop of the lush green of summer. As he passed through the gateposts, the afternoon sun lit up the manor house on the hill, and a sense of pride stirred in him. His family home….

Up until that moment, he’d ignored the idea that it would be his home too. It didn’t seem a real prospect. Jonathon had his career, even if his father refused to acknowledge it as such, and the thought of leaving it behind to move to Merrychurch was one he hadn’t wanted to even consider. But deep down, he knew he wouldn’t go against his family’s wishes. It would be as futile as trying to swim against the current, where the waves towered above your head.

Better to ride them, to be carried along on them.

Jonathon turned onto the lane that led up to the house, waving to the few people he glimpsed. He had no idea why Dominic had intended selling off the land and evicting his tenants; the financial health of the estate was unknown to him.

Then maybe I need to find out.

He pulled up outside the main door, got out, and locked the car. He was there for one reason only: Jonathon was looking for lilies.

His first stop was the study, but no lilies were evident. He then searched the house, entering every room, opening every cupboard, peering into every space he could find. Nothing. Then he went back to the study and opened the french doors. The garden beyond was laid out with well-stocked flower beds, so Jonathon guessed someone had been tending to them. No lilies grew there, however.

After an hour of searching, he gave up. Wherever the pollen that had found its way onto his uncle’s clothing had come from, it had not originated at the manor. Wearily, he got into the 4x4 and drove back to the pub.

Mike smiled as he walked through the door. “Hey, just in time. We’re about to open.” He peered at Jonathon. “Are you all right? You look pissed off.”

Sue came out from the kitchen, carrying two steaming mugs. “Nice timing. I just made some tea. Do you want one?”

“A coffee if there’s any going.”

Sue put down the mugs and came over to him. “Aw, you look fed up.” She put her arm around him, and the friendly gesture was just what he needed.

Quickly, he told her and Mike about his lily hunt.

Sue shook her head. “I wish you’d told me before you went. I could have saved you a trip.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “You won’t find lilies up at the manor house because Dominic hated them. Said they always reminded him of death.”

“In which case that leaves us with two possibilities. Either he went somewhere and came into contact with lilies, or else whoever pushed him brought the pollen with them and it got transferred to Dominic’s clothes.” It was an answer, but not the one he had hoped for. “Talk about a needle in a haystack.”

Mike huffed. “We can search for needles in haystacks some other time. Right now I have a pub to open.” He gave Jonathon a beseeching glance. “Want to help out again?”

Jonathon arched his eyebrows. “Well, that depends. Am I going to be collect-the-empties boy, or make-cocktails boy?”

Sue chuckled. “Here, you get behind the bar and do your stuff. I’ll do the menial tasks. Besides, I want to watch how you wield a cocktail shaker.” Her eyes sparkled. “And you’d better be as good as Tom Cruise.” With that, she disappeared into the kitchen.

Mike gave Jonathon a frank stare. “Well? What are you waiting for, ‘Tom’? Get your arse behind this bar.” He grinned.

Jonathon gave him a mock glare. “Are you going to talk to me like that when I’m lord of the manor?”

Mike shrugged. “Probably, but admit it. You wouldn’t want me any other way.” Another grin, and then he carried on placing clean glasses onto the shelves.

Jonathon stepped behind the bar and tried his hardest not to stare at the way Mike’s arse filled his tight jeans, the way his muscled thighs stretched the denim. Down boy. It didn’t help matters that it had been months since Jonathon had had so much as a whiff of a sexual encounter.

But, God, it was a tempting thought.

“MIKE, HAVE we got any more lemons?” Jonathon was just about to run out.

“There’s some in the kitchen,” Sue said as she brought a tray of empty glasses to the washer. “I’ll get them for—” Her eyes widened.

Jonathon followed her gaze and saw a guy of about medium height, slim, with reddish-brown hair and a lot of facial scruff. He glanced around the bar, as if he was looking for someone.

Jonathon hurried over to Sue. “Who is that?” he whispered.

“Bryan Mayhew, the student who’s been staying up at the manor.” She frowned. “And where the hell has he been?”

Bryan walked purposefully up to the bar. “Evening, Mike. A pint of Pride, please.”

Around him, people fell silent, all eyes on him.

Mike stared at him. “A pint of Pride? Is that all you have to say, when the police have been wanting to talk to you since Friday?” Murmurs broke out, as several people looked from Mike to Bryan, waiting for his response, before hurriedly glancing into their glasses and whispering.

Jonathon studied Bryan’s reactions, unable to miss the way he stiffened, his eyes widening.

“Why should the police wanna talk to me?”

“Because you haven’t been seen in the village for a while, and Dominic is dead, that’s why.” Mike’s voice rose loud and clear, and a hush fell on the rest of the pub.

There was no missing the pallor that crept over Bryan’s face. “He’s… dead?”

Jonathon’s main suspect was either telling the truth, or else he was a fantastic actor, because to Jonathon’s mind, his reaction appeared genuine.

“Where’ve you been?” Mike demanded.

The bar’s patrons were trying to look like they weren’t listening in, and failing miserably.

Bryan swallowed. “I… I was staying with a friend before he went on holiday.”

“And when did you leave the village?” Mike leaned on the bar, his expression more watchful than Jonathon had seen it previously.

“Thursday afternoon. I packed a bag and took the bike down to Dorchester, where Andy lives.”

“When did you last see my uncle?” Jonathon blurted out, unable to keep silent a second longer. He joined Mike, standing beside him, a lemon clutched in one hand.

“Your uncle?” Bryan gaped. “Oh my God. You’re Jonathon. Dominic said you were coming to visit. I… I saw him Thursday afternoon, just before I left. He was in his study, at his desk.” He swallowed again. “But he was alive, I swear it. He was about to make a phone call.”

Mike hadn’t broken eye contact once. “The police will need the name of your friend, along with his address and how to get in touch with him, so he can corroborate your story.”

Bryan blinked. “S-story? Mike, I swear to Almighty God, I did not kill him.” His voice rang out, steadier than before. “As for Andy, he’s gone backpacking around Bali, Singapore, and God knows how many other places. He’ll be gone for at least a month. Part of the reason I went to see him is because he wants me to keep an eye on his place for him. He’s got his phone with him, but fuck knows what signal he’ll have.” He winced. “Sorry. I don’t usually swear in public, but this is kind of a strange situation.”

“Did you see anyone else up at the manor that afternoon?” Jonathon asked suddenly.

Bryan jerked his head in Jonathon’s direction. “Anyone else?” He took a deep breath. “No, it was just me.”

Jonathon locked gazes with him. “You’re sure?” He couldn’t put his finger on what was giving him that coiling of unease in his belly. Maybe it was the slight hesitation.

Bryan didn’t look away. “Positive.” He gave Mike a weak smile. “I think the pint had better wait, don’t you? At least until I’ve spoken with the police.”

Mike nodded. “There’s a DI Gorland who’ll want to see you. Make sure you tell him everything, all right?”

It was Bryan’s turn to nod. He turned to go, but paused and gazed at Jonathon. “I suppose in the circumstances, you don’t want me staying at the manor, right?”

Jonathon hadn’t given it a moment’s thought until that second. “I’m not even staying there.” He glanced at Mike. “What do you think?”

Mike rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You’re staying in the annex, aren’t you? Not the main hall—the bit that backs onto the stables?” When Bryan nodded, Mike addressed Jonathon. “I don’t think he’ll cause any problems if he continues staying there. Provided the police are okay with it too. And you,” he added pointedly.

Jonathon knew what that meant. As the new lord of the manor, the final say-so was his.

I really do need to see Dominic’s solicitor.

He gave Bryan a half smile. “Sure. That’s okay. How much longer did you plan on staying in Merrychurch?”

“Originally Dominic said I could stay just for the summer. Then I’ll be back at uni, writing my doctorate.” Bryan shivered. “Not sure how I feel about being alone up at the manor, not now that I know he died there.”

Wait a minute. Jonathon cocked his head. “No one said he died there.” He racked his brains, going over everything they’d said.

Bryan stilled. “Yeah, but… you asked me if I’d seen anyone else up at the house, so I kinda assumed….”

“A plausible assumption,” Mike agreed. “Okay, you’d best be off to the police station. I can give you a ride there if you like.”

Bryan smiled. “Thanks, but I’ve got the bike outside. And you know what? I don’t really feel like drinking now.” He gave a nod in Jonathon’s direction before heading for the door.

The moment he was no longer in sight, the muttering began, people’s voices raised as they discussed what had just happened.

Mike glanced around before regarding Jonathon with obvious concern. “Are you okay? You seem a little… off-color.”

Jonathon sighed. “I’ve suddenly gone off the idea of making cocktails, that’s all.” His head was pounding, and the questions that had plagued him since the awful discovery were still colliding in his head. “Would you mind if I just went up to my room for a while?”

Mike’s hand was a comforting weight at the small of Jonathon’s back. “Of course not,” he said softly. “If you need anything—a drink, food, even the TV from my room—just let me know, all right?”

Jonathon gazed at him in gratitude. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to do that. Sorry to leave you in the lurch with all those ladies demanding cosmos and martinis. Oh, and Paul and his screwdrivers, of course.”

From a nearby barstool, Paul guffawed. “I’ll have to manage with me pint, then, won’t I, young’un? A good early night, that’s what you need. Do you a power of good.”

Jonathon had a feeling he could be right. At least when he was asleep, he wasn’t thinking. Then he amended that thought.

I can still dream, can’t I?

“MAYBE WE’RE looking at this from the wrong angle,” Mike said suddenly before demolishing the last mouthful of toast.

The kitchen was quiet. Sue was still in her room. Jonathon had padded downstairs at six o’clock to make coffee, only to find Mike had beaten him to it.

Mike’s gaze met his. “You look brighter this morning. That sleep did you good.”

Jonathon certainly felt like his batteries had been recharged. “I feel better, thanks. What do you mean?”

Mike got up to refill his coffee cup. When he turned, hand outstretched, to find Jonathon already holding out his empty mug, he grinned. “You’re getting used to me, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t exactly a chore. Jonathon felt comfortable around him, like they… fit. He matched Mike’s grin. “Let’s just say both of us need our coffee to get our brains in gear.”

“Now that’s the truth.” Mike went back to his task of filling the mugs. “You know what we haven’t considered yet? Dominic’s career. Maybe this was revenge. Maybe it was someone who Dominic prosecuted, back in his barrister days, and they got put away. Maybe they got out, and they wanted revenge.” He handed Jonathon a mug, grinning. “See? That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Jonathon bit his lip. “I hate to burst your bubble, Mr. I-Used-to-Be-a-Copper, but don’t you think that if such a person had turned up in the village, Dominic would have recognized them? From what I’ve been hearing, he was always spending time here—in the pub, the tea shop, at church…. And Merrychurch isn’t exactly huge, is it? Even if such a person had moved here but had kept out of sight of Dominic, word would have got around, right?” He sipped his coffee, feeling smug. “Am I right?”

Mike pulled a face. “It was worth a try.”

Jonathon’s heart went out to him. His sister might have been cleared, but he was still trying to help. “Of course it was. And it was a good idea, one that needs mentioning to Gorland.”

Mike arched his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

Jonathon nodded. “Just because I came up with some potential flaws in your reasoning doesn’t mean I’m right, does it? So tell Gorland. At least he can look into it. Dominic was a barrister for a few years. There might be more than a couple of disgruntled villains out there who’d want to see him dead.”

Mike gave a decisive nod. “You’re right. I’ll call him.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Although maybe not now. Can’t see him being all that happy about getting phone calls before seven in the morning.” He chuckled, and his eyes gleamed. “But it’s bloody tempting.”

Jonathon gave him a hard stare. “Do I need to confiscate your phone?”

Mike burst out laughing, and the joyful sound went a long way to lightening Jonathon’s heart.

We just need to keep thinking, that’s all. If we put our heads together, we can work out who did this.

He hoped.