Chapter 30
Jamie was halfway down the front path, lost in thought, when he spotted Trisha lifting shopping bags from the boot of her car.
“Hello!” she called. “You’re not doing more work for them, are you?”
“No. Just called in to pay my respects.” He glanced at the boot full of shopping. “Do you need a hand?”
“Aye. Please.” She flicked her hand at a case of Diet Coke. “I’m surprised at you offering to help me after I’ve been bad-mouthing you to all and sundry.”
He hefted the case of drinks into his arms and followed her into the house. “You got me out of a bit of work.”
A cackle of laughter burst out of her. “That’s one way of looking at it,” she said, then patted his arm once they were in the kitchen.
“I shouldn’t have told people not to hire you.
At the time, I thought I was being helpful.
Warning people, you know? But then Heather had a go at me, said she hadn’t really meant it about that hedge and you’d only done what Mr Langford told you. ”
Jamie followed her back through the house and took the bags which she handed him from the back of the car. She closed the boot before heading back inside.
“I hope I didn’t do too much damage to your reputation. If it’s any consolation, most people know not to listen to much of what I say.”
Jamie stepped inside after her, his eyes snagging on the key rack hanging on the wall. If he didn’t have his hands full, he’d have turned the key ring for a better look.
“Bring them in and put them on the counter,” she said from the kitchen.
He nodded and did as he was told.
“How are they doing next door?” she asked as he set the bags down.
“All right, I suppose.” He could’ve left it at that . . . “Mr Langford seems a bit lost. He was talking about selling up and going off travelling or something.”
“Really?” Trisha’s eyes widened. “Did it seem as though he was serious or was it just one of those things people say?”
“I couldn’t really tell.”
She rested her hands on her hips. “I wonder how much he’d want for it. Maybe he’d have to sell for cheaper now that someone’s died there.”
“I can’t imagine he’d mention that in the listing.”
She let out another cackle. “You’re funny. My sister has been looking for a house nearby. Difficult to find something in this area. Not much comes on the market.”
“Would you want your sister living next door?”
“It’d be perfect. We’d be in and out of each other’s houses every day. And my nephews would be right there – little scamps, but I love ’em.”
“That does sound perfect,” Jamie said.
A perfect reason to kill your neighbour.
“Thanks for your help,” she said as she began putting the shopping away.
“You’re welcome. I’ll see myself out.”
On the way, he flicked the key ring around so he could read the writing properly. Langford was written in black marker.
“Not so hard to find after all,” he muttered beneath his breath.
Walking to his car, he contemplated calling Emma to fill her in. Except he still didn’t have anything concrete and he suspected she wouldn’t have a lot of patience for his latest theories. Cal didn’t answer his phone.
How come he and Skye always showed up before, but now that he actually needed to speak to them, he couldn’t get hold of them? On a whim, he drove out to The Forge. Several cars were parked outside. Not as many as the last time he’d visited, so he was hopeful there wasn’t a class in session.
The vibe was different to his last visit. Only men were there now, all doing various weight workouts.
Cal lifted his chin at him and he headed over to where he was spotting for a guy on the bench press.
“Here to work out?” Cal asked. “I’ll need to start charging you membership fees if you’re going to be a regular customer.”
“I wouldn’t mind coming again sometime. Not now, though. I just need a word.” He glanced at the middle-aged guy lifting the bar. “In private, if you’ve got a minute.”
“It’s all right,” Cal said. “Reggie’s deaf. Say whatever you want.”
Jamie stared at the man for a moment. His muscles tensed under the weight and he paid Jamie no attention whatsoever.
“I’ve found out some more stuff,” he said, stepping closer to Cal and lowering his voice. “It started with Fiona saying something that didn’t add up—”
“Fi at High Tide?” Cal said, interrupting him, but not taking his eyes off the guy lifting the weights. “You’ve been in without me?”
“Yeah. Is that not allowed?”
“I suppose it’s fine. Is Fiona all right? Was it busy?”
“It was quite busy,” he said. “She seemed fine. Can I tell you what I found out?”
“Go on then.”
He filled him in on what Fiona had said, then about his visit to the Langfords and what he’d found out about the neighbour wanting to buy the house.
“It’s dodgy, isn’t it?” he said eventually.
Cal nodded. “What’s with Heather, though? That’s strange that Fiona saw her going to visit her mum.”
“Heather said she was on her way, but then got a work phone call so turned around. I’m not actually sure I believe it. She seemed really vague. At first she claimed she’d forgotten, but you’d think she’d remember the events of that morning. It’s the sort of thing you replay, isn’t it?”
“I’d say so. Trisha sounds dodgy though too.”
“She also told me she couldn’t find the Langfords’ key, but I went in her house and saw the key right there on the rack.”
“She was just pretending she couldn’t find it?” Cal’s brow wrinkled. “That’s kind of rough when she knew the woman was collapsed on the floor. Why would she do that?”
“That’s what I’m wondering. And since she has a key, she could definitely have gone in there earlier . . .”
“And messed with the banister,” Cal finished. “She’d have known how Marguerite relied on it after her operation. She could have planned all this, thinking Mr Langford might sell up with his wife out of the picture.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. He essentially told her they wouldn’t be moving with Marguerite’s health the way it was.”
“It’s a stretch, though. Killing her off seems drastic when there’s still no guarantee Mr Langford will sell.” He helped put the bar back in place and the guy sat up on the bench. “Maybe he’ll want to stay where he has memories of his wife.”
“I actually think he might move, but Trisha couldn’t have known that.”
The man on the bench mumbled something as he wiped sweat from his face with a hand towel.
Cal frowned. “What was that, Reggie?”
“I said what you need is a Ring doorbell.”
For a deaf man he had perfect speech.
“Ring whose doorbell?” Cal asked.
Reggie looked at Jamie. “I’m not saying you should ring doorbells. Though that’s actually not a bad idea either.”
Jamie whipped his head to Cal. “I thought you said he was deaf?”
“I didn’t mean actually deaf.”
“What kind of deaf did you mean?”
“I just meant you can talk in front of him. Reggie’s sound.” He extended his arm and fist-bumped the guy who wasn’t deaf. “Great workout today, mate.”
“Thanks, Cal.”
“What were you saying about doorbells?” Jamie asked.
“Ring doorbells. The ones with the cameras.”
Jamie and Cal nodded in unison.
“My neighbour across the road has one. The other week he sent me a video of my arse crack while I was bent over picking up leaves from the drain. He thought it was hilarious. I went over and told him he has to take that thing down. I’ve never given permission to be filmed and I’m not having it.
There’s no privacy these days. Anyway, he told me to grow a sense of humour.
He also said that if I ever get burgled, not to bother asking him for the footage. I changed my tune a bit then.”
“That was a longer story than I was expecting, Reggie.” Cal slapped him on the back. “Was there a point to it?”
“I should see if the people opposite the Langfords have one,” Jamie mused.
Reggie pointed at him. “Bingo! Ask other neighbours nearby too because you never know what angle they’re pointing at or what kind of range they have. But you can also do the old-fashioned thing of asking if anyone saw anything.”
“That’s great.” Jamie bounced on the balls of his feet, half tempted to stay for a workout since he suddenly had some pent-up adrenaline. He needed to go and ring some doorbells, though.
“Do you want to come?” he asked Cal.
He checked his watch. “I need to hang around here until Zara arrives, but I might catch you up in a bit.”
“I was also thinking about going for a drink later. In the Ship Inn. Do you ever drink there?”
“Sometimes.”
“I overheard Heather on the phone arranging to meet someone there this evening. When her dad asked who she was meeting she just said a friend. It sounded as though she didn’t want him to know who she was meeting.”
“Which made you curious,” Cal guessed. “You’re really getting into this investigating, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. I need to clear my name, like you said.”
“I might have been a bit gung-ho. I don’t think anyone’s really blaming you.”
“It feels as though they are,” Jamie said, backing away. “Give me a shout later.”
He’d really rather have Cal to keep him company if he was going to question the Langfords’ neighbours, but he’d just have to go it alone.
If he could find video footage showing someone being where they shouldn’t be, that would be enough to call Emma. Surely if he found evidence, the police would have to step in and do something.