Chapter Eighteen
T here was a knock, then another, then a very polite voice saying, “Sorry, sorry!”
“I’m in the bath,” Tilly said. She had, in fact, been in the bath for nearly two hours. She wasn’t sure if it was helping. She had imagined various scenarios in which Sophie had, for a variety of reasons, lied about her identity.
All of the scenarios had involved them kissing again.
“I know,” Mila said from outside the door. “And I’m really sorry. But there’s a problem. Dougie McKeefe thinks he’s got the car thieves and Max is still at the cinema.”
But Tilly was already getting out of the bath. She started toweling off. “What do you mean he’s ‘got’ the car thieves?”
“Um, I don’t really know,” Mila said. “But he’s a farmer. He’s got a shotgun, I’m sure.”
“Oh god,” Tilly said, abandoning her towel and pulling her clothes back on. Her trousers stuck to her wet legs. “You’ll have to tell me where to go.”
“It’s… Crap, I’ll have to come with you,” said Mila. “It’s right outside of the village. You’ll never find it by yourself. Come on, I’ll find the car keys and keep trying Max. I’ll meet you outside.”
Three minutes later, Tilly was pounding down the stairs, throwing the front door open, and then skidding to a halt as she saw Mila sitting in the driving seat of a tiny, red Renault Clio. “What the hell?”
“Max has the police car,” said Mila. “Get in!”
It was hardly the glamorous arrest that she’d hoped to be going to. And her legs were still kind of slippery with soap. “Okay, fine,” she said, getting in. “But you must have a blue light attachment in here.”
“Why would I have one of those?” Mila said, starting the engine.
“Because you’re using this as a back-up police car,” said Tilly.
“I use it mostly to pick the kids up from field trips and do the shopping,” said Mila, pulling away from the house. “And I got hold of Max. He’s going to meet us there after he’s dropped the kids off with Ant and Ad at the bookshop.”
Tilly looked out of the window, her stomach tightening. This could be it. Her big break and she was riding in a Renault Clio. With little to no back up. God knows how long it would take Max to get there.
She went over things in her head.
Ensure that the firearm was out of the picture. That was priority number one. Then what? Well, it depended on the circumstances, really. Part of being a good police officer was flexibility. She’d need to secure the suspects if she could. There were suspects plural, and she only had one set of cuffs, which might be a problem.
The car screeched around a corner.
A problem she’d have to deal with. She took a shaky breath. Alright, she had this. Technically, she was very well trained. She might not have much experience, but her brain would know what to do, she was sure of it.
Sure enough, that when the car pulled to a halt in front of a farm gate, she leaped out, ready for action. Mila stuck her head through the driver’s window. “Can you just open the gate, love?”
Tilly sighed. Not quite the action she’d expected. She opened the gate, waited for Mila to drive through, then closed it again before getting back in the car. They bumped up the drive to the farm, the car headlights illuminating a man with a shotgun as they turned into a courtyard.
This time Mila stopped smoothly and Tilly was out almost before the car came to a halt. “Lower the weapon please, sir,” she said as loudly as she dared. Then she remembered to add, “Police.” Damn it, she should have said that first.
“Max?” the man asked, squinting into the car headlights.
“This is Constable Wade,” Tilly said. “And I need you to lower the shotgun, please.”
“They’re in there,” the man said, gesturing with the gun and forcing Tilly to shelter behind the open car door. “Four of ‘em. I locked ‘em in, so they won’t be getting away.”
“Very good, sir,” Tilly said.
“Max is almost here,” Mila said, poking her head out of the window again.
“Get down,” hissed Tilly. “This could be dangerous. He’s got a gun.”
“Evening, Dougie,” Mila said to the farmer conversationally. “Deidre alright?”
“Oh, good days and bad,” said the farmer.
Tilly groaned and then saw blue lights at the end of the driveway. Half of her was disappointed. She’d wanted to make these arrests. The other half was heartily relieved. She had no idea what she was doing. Her training had in no way prepared her for chatty booksellers and armed farmers. And anyway, she didn’t have enough cuffs for four suspects.
“Evening, Dougie,” Max said when he drew up. He got out of his car. “What have we got here, then?”
The farmer explained himself, and Max nodded.
“Are they armed?” he asked.
Dougie shrugged. “Ain’t heard no shooting, so probably not.”
“Right then.” Max looked at Tilly. “Stay here. I’m going to the barn. If anything happens, you get on the police radio and call for backup, understood?”
“But—”
“You heard me, and that’s an order,” Max said, sounding sterner than she’d ever heard him.
She nodded.
Cautiously, slowly, Max began to walk toward the barn. “Police,” he shouted. “Police.”
There was no answer until… until music began to drift through the air. It took a second, maybe two, and then Tilly was running toward the barn, toward Max.
“Sophie,” she shouted.
“Tilly?” cried a voice from inside.
“That’s Sophie Farmer,” Tilly said, catching up with Max.
“What’s she doing in there?” Max asked, confused.
“Not a clue,” said Tilly. “But I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Maybe she’s being held hostage?”
The sweet sounds of the Coventry Carol were drowned out by two voices singing what sounded like a very rude song about a young man from Venus. Max coughed. “Um, being held hostage by Amelia and Cass from the cafe? Seems unlikely.”
He gestured to Dougie, who came over and handed him the key to the barn.
“Still, stand back,” Max said. “Just in case.”
But the only thing that came out when Max unlocked the barn were the strains of a song about a monkey doing something very untoward with a bowling ball.
“WHAT WERE YOU thinking?” hissed Tilly as she bundled Sophie into the police station.
“We were looking for car thieves,” Sophie said miserably.
Tilly rolled her eyes. “Where do you want her?” she asked Max.
“We’ll put the four of them in the interview room back there. The one that’s for families,” he said. “Give them a chance to sober up a bit before we ask too many questions.”
When the four were locked away safely, complete with a pot of coffee that Max had made, Tilly finally collapsed onto her seat. “I should have known better,” she said.
“Better than what?” asked Max, sitting down at his own desk.
Tilly took a breath and then explained. It was better to be open about these things, she’d realized. She’d made a mistake getting anywhere close to Sophie Farmer, a mistake she wasn’t about to make again. Which was exactly what she told Max.
“Why not?” Max asked.
“What?”
“She’s a nice girl,” Max said. He glanced over at the interview room. “Well, mostly.”
“She’s just got arrested,” said Tilly.
“Not a usual occurrence,” he said. “Is it just because she’s a Farmer?”
“Obviously.”
Max shook his head. “You can’t do that. These are people, remember? You can’t judge someone on their family, it’s not fair.”
“Is it not?” Tilly said, nodding toward the interview room.
“I don’t expect you to be a chief superintendent,” said Max. “I do, on the other hand, expect you to give people a decent chance and to behave like a decent human being. Not too much to ask in an officer.”
“But… Well…” Tilly didn’t quite know what to say to that.
Max was looking quite cross. “Has it occurred to you at all to question what they were doing up there and why they were doing it?”
Tilly rolled her eyes. “Sophie said that they were looking for car thieves.”
“So not actual car thieves then, just looking for them,” said Max. “And why?”
Tilly opened her mouth to answer his question and then realized that she didn’t actually have an answer.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Max said. “Jules, Amelia, and Cass are all her friends. It might have been a crazy, drunken plan, but they had a reason. If they all went out and tracked down some car thieves, then you wouldn’t be able to blame Sophie and her family.”
Tilly closed her eyes. “And then there’d be no reason…” She trailed off.
Max sighed. “I’m not arresting them. Dougie doesn’t want to press trespassing charges, so there’s no real reason to. They weren’t doing any harm. But I suggest that you have a think about what it is that you want and what you’re doing here. Like it or not, that girl has feelings for you. And if you don’t return them, you owe her the courtesy of being honest about that, and not hiding behind excuses about who her family are.”
She opened her eyes again. “I’m confused,” she confessed miserably.
Max’s face cleared a little. “You’re going to be a good police officer one day, Tilly. But you won’t do it alone. I swear to you that without Mila there to back me up, I’d have burned out long ago. Having someone at home makes a big difference. It’s not a weakness to have feelings.”
“I do have feelings,” Tilly said, stung.
Max grinned. “Then if I were you, I’d tell Sophie because she apparently has feelings, too.”
“What about the car thefts?” began Tilly.
Max shrugged. “As long as you’re not giving her privileged information, which you shouldn’t be giving to anyone, then I don’t see a problem.”
Tilly glanced over at the interview room.
“Till, she likes you enough to go on some kind of personal vigilante mission to give you a reason to be with her. Whatever doubts you have, Sophie deserves someone to at least hear her out.”
Tilly thought about how she’d felt when she heard Sophie’s voice. Thought about the kiss, a kiss she’d never wanted to end. Thought about how Sophie had felt in her arms. Thought about how definite Sophie had been about her family not finding out. She turned to Max. “You can’t tell anyone. This is personal.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Max said. “This is your business, not mine.”
And a smile slowly slid across Tilly’s face. Because if it was only a question of what she wanted, the answer was a very simple one indeed.