“We’re horrified, Dee!” she says as soon as she sees me. “Can you believe it? Drugs! In Ebbing! We come here to get away from all that.”
I nod but I wonder if she’s ever really been horrified. So horrified she couldn’t breathe or move or close her eyes? So horrified she wet herself?
The bed takes only ten minutes really but I string it out, plumping pillows and repositioning cushions to up my payment before I move downstairs.
“Hi,” I call softly as I open the kitchen door.
Nothing. Janine’s husband, Kevin, is hunched over the kitchen table, staring at the screen of his laptop.
“I’ll be as quiet as I can,” I say to the back of his head, and he doesn’t make any sign he’s heard. But when I start filling my bucket at the sink, he spins round.
“Oh, hello. It’s not Monday, is it? Sorry. Got a bit of a work thing going on.”
“No, I’m a day early. Sorry to disturb you—Janine’s asked me to do in here.” But he’s back in his trance.
I glance at his screen. It’s an e-mail with the subject line: Payment Now Overdue.
I wipe down surfaces around him, scrubbing at wineglass stains and encrusted food but I keep looking at him. Wondering who he owes money to. If he’s even bothered. Like Charlie. He just stares. I don’t think he’s even reading the e-mail. His eyes look all glassy. Suddenly they snap back to me, catching me looking.
“What?” he says, and I feel myself go red.
“Sorry, nothing. I . . . I was just thinking,” I blurt. “About someone who’s gone missing.” I hadn’t meant to say it. It’d just come out.
“Charlie Perry? Yes, I heard.” He slams the lid down on the e-mail. “Where do you think he’s gone?”
I’ve got his attention now but I don’t know what to do with it.
“Er, I didn’t know you knew him.”
“Ebbing’s a small world.”
“Yes, well, I expect he’ll be back.” I’m just thinking aloud but his eyes are fixed on me. “One of my clients said that most missing people don’t go far.”
Kevin laughs, a nasty bark. “Sounds like kitchen gossip, Dee. He’s probably on a plane somewhere.”
“I doubt it,” I say, stung by his snarky tone. “I saw his passport earlier.”
“Did you?”
I don’t respond. I shouldn’t have said anything. I go back to shaking crumbs from the toaster into the sink.
Kevin pushes his chair back, scraping the tiles so the hairs on my arms stand up, and he walks out without another word.
Twenty-five
SUNDAY, AUGUST 25, 2019
Elise
Elise was numbering her notes before bed in case she’d forgotten something when she heard the sirens and Ronnie came knocking.
“Sorry!” she said, all breathless. “I know it’s late but I saw your lights were still on. An outbuilding at Pete Diamond’s is on fire. The fire engines have just gone down there.”
Elise pulled on a jacket and set off in Ronnie’s wake. It was a still night and the smell of smoke didn’t hit the back of her throat until she turned the corner onto Beacon Lane and saw the flare from the flashing blue lights.
The Diamonds were standing by the gates, the ghostly outline of the word “Scum” spray-painted on the fence visible behind them in the festival floodlights.
“Who did that?” Elise asked Ronnie.
“A well-wisher,” she said, and pushed forward through the rubberneckers.
Elise hung back. “What happened?” she asked a local police officer sitting in a squad car.
“Er, we’re not sure yet. I think you need to stand back while the emergency services do their job.”
“I am the emergency services,” she said, and pulled her warrant card out of her pocket.
His eyes widened and she stuffed it straight back in. She’d forgotten. Just for a moment.
“I’m with the Major Crime Team but I’m off duty,” she muttered.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the officer said. “It’s a home gym they’ve had built in the grounds and it looks like arson. There were rags found and it stinks of solvent down there. There’s a lot of bad feeling locally about what happened at the festival.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen the artwork on the fence.”
“But we’ve got a bigger problem. We’re looking for the daughter of the owner. She wasn’t in her bedroom when the parents checked.”
“Who else is here?”