Chapter 3
The next morning, Rocco admired the honey-coloured stone building that once made Bridge House Police Station.
It was old and quaint with ivy growing up the walls and a ghost sign above the dark-red door.
A new signpost was staked to the patch of grass to its left, letting all know it was now a police hub.
The burbling river close by looked tranquil but cold with clumps of snow lining the verge, and he wasn’t sure if the footbridge got much use, as it looked even older than the station.
Smiling at his surroundings, Rocco entered the premises, his mouth widening as the door creaked announcing his arrival before he had the chance.
‘Oh, I was wondering when you would show up.’
Rocco greeted the elderly gentleman at the front desk rubbing over his bushy white eyebrows, giving the impression his eyes ached. ‘Snowed in, sir.’ He approached the oak counter, and the old floorboards creaked more than the door. ‘You must be Reg.’
‘I don’t work here anymore, just so you know. I was giving the place a tidy, but there’s a constable upstairs having a coffee before setting out to look for Lady Vic.’
‘Yes, I heard about the missing fairy.’
Reg huffed, shaking his head, his white hair shifting with him. ‘Bad luck, you mark my words. Last time it was moved, bad luck all week.’
Rocco frowned. ‘Does this happen often?’
‘No. Just that once. Years back, a local kid thought it would be funny to hide it in a bush. Soon held his hands up when the bad luck set in. No one touches it now. Well, they didn’t.’
‘I take it the park has been searched.’
Reg’s beady brown eyes slowly rolled up. ‘Good thing you’ve arrived, else we’d never have thought of that.’
Rocco chose to ignore the sarcasm. ‘I’ll just head upstairs and introduce myself, then join the search.’ He gestured to the door next to the desk, then casually strolled over, ready to check out his new workplace.
‘You’re not due to start till March.’
‘Volunteering my services to the community, sir.’
‘Go in the pub,’ said Reg.
Frowning at the early-morning suggestion, Rocco turned in the doorway. ‘Why?’
‘General meeting place for the locals. Be a good starting point for you. Clint will show you.’
‘Clint?’
‘Clint Clark, the constable I just mentioned.’ Reg pointed at the ceiling. ‘Younger than you, and just finding his feet.’
‘Someone mention my name?’ Clint smiled widely over the top of a raised white coffee mug, his blue eyes twinkling happily.
‘Rocco Beck. Pleased to meet you.’
Clint almost squealed with excitement. ‘Ooh, I’ve been waiting for you. Let’s go down the pub.’
Seeing how the pub seemed to be the advice of the hour, Rocco bobbed his head in agreement, then watched as the young lad faffed about with his uniform and blond hair as though trying for a good impression.
‘You could show me around here first,’ said Rocco, heading towards the stairs. ‘It’s a bit early for a pub to be open.’
Clint knitted his eyebrows as he turned. ‘Not in an emergency. A meeting will be in order.’ He gestured at the door. ‘And some warm croissants if we get there first.’
Iris sat at a table by the bar in the Bell Tower pub with the owner, Samantha Lymington, watching Norma hand out warm pastries to those entering for the village meeting that no one had organised but happened anyway, as everyone in Butterbrook knew where to go when answers were needed.
‘Settle down,’ said Cookie, standing on the small stage at the back. She used her hands to tell everyone to sit, then paused as Rocco entered with Clint. ‘First thing’s first. Well done to those that cleared the snow from our roads.’
A few people clapped while others mumbled praise.
Iris watched Rocco glancing around, taking in the wooden beams on the ceiling and crackling fire in the inglenook fireplace.
She imagined him in his uniform, posing by the flames as Mr January for a police calendar, like the one their local fire station had made the previous year for charity. She’d buy it.
‘Secondly,’ added Cookie, ‘meet our new constable, Rocco Beck. Due to start this March.’
A sea of eyes were on him at once, and Iris noticed he swallowed hard as everyone gave him the once over while Clint grinned like a proud parent.
‘Ooh, you’re a fit young man,’ said Mabel Hummings, close to the stage, making Iris bite back a grin. ‘You must work out a lot with those muscles.’
Iris wasn’t the only one admiring Rocco’s biceps, even Clint looked impressed.
‘That’s not appropriate, Mabel, and well you know it,’ said Cookie, pulling everyone’s attention back to her.
Clint waved at Mabel. ‘Morning, Auntie.’
‘Keep warm. Clint, you look half frozen.’ Mabel tutted, then frowned up at Cookie.
Cookie frowned back. ‘Clint looks fine, Mabel. His lips are hardly blue. Now, can we please get on with things? The people from the Winter Star award will be snooping around our streets soon, and we can’t have them spotting the chip in our statue where someone chiselled off Lady Vic, or that the fairy is missing at all, so if anyone has any information, now is the time to speak up. ’
All heads turned to Vern by the bar, engrossed in an arts and crafts magazine, and his hazel eyes shot up as he grimaced at his audience. ‘I was ten when I hid Lady Vic. Haven’t touched it since, so don’t look at me.’
‘Well, you can see why, Vern,’ said Cookie, scoffing his way.
‘I’m thirty-one now, so how about we stop the back-shaming?’ said Vern. ‘It was just a prank.’
‘Which no one thought funny,’ said Mabel, waggling a finger at him.
Vern crossed his arms in a huff and closed his mouth tightly, going back to his magazine.
Iris overheard Rocco speaking with Clint. ‘Shouldn’t you be questioning people?’
Clint gave a slight head shake. ‘See if anyone owns up first.’
No one owned up, so Cookie slammed her hands on her hips. ‘Come on, people. Don’t you want to win that award again? Someone must know something.’
‘There was a blizzard,’ a male voice called from behind Rocco, causing everyone to glance that way.
Cookie sighed loudly. ‘Oh, well, class dismissed if you’re not going to be helpful.’
Iris stood to face the gathering. ‘Once the snow has thawed, we can do a proper search. Meanwhile, ask around, see what you can discover. I doubt the judges will come here while we’re covered in snow.’
Samantha stood, her smile wide. ‘Right, I need to get this place ready for opening, so anyone wanting a hot drink, I suggest you head over to Norma’s, because I’m not serving till eleven.’
Norma opened the door, letting in an icy breeze. ‘Yes, the Magic Teapot is open.’ And with that, she sprinted along Rose Petal Lane to unlock her tearoom.
‘Ooh, fancy a coffee?’ Clint asked Rocco as Iris approached them.
‘I think you should be working.’
‘Ah, but you heard Cookie, no one knows anything yet.’
Rocco was looking at Iris as everyone started to leave. ‘And that’s the investigation over?’
Clint shrugged, then went to say hello to his great-aunt, leaving Rocco gobsmacked, which had Iris chuckling on the inside.
‘It was just a quick meeting to see if anyone owned up to a spot of mischief.’ Iris motioned towards Cookie holding court with some of her friends. ‘She’s used to being the spokesperson around here.’
‘And a pub meeting ground?’
‘Does the trick.’
‘This award seems important to the locals.’
‘Yep. Big competition with the other villages. And Cookie and her friends like to have something to brag about.’ Iris slipped into her coat, buttoning the top.
‘We’ll probably find Lady Vic somewhere in the park, no doubt came loose from wear and tear and blew off in the blizzard. I wouldn’t worry too much just yet.’
‘But the park was searched?’
‘A little, but it’s hard to see anything when there’s so much snow.’
Rocco nodded. ‘I’ll still make some enquiries.’
‘Of course. Just don’t be surprised to find Cookie doing it with you.’
‘Oh, I noticed.’
Iris lightly brushed his arm on her way out, secretly inhaling his shower fresh scent. ‘Join us for dinner at the B&B tonight, if you like.’
‘Thank you. That would be lovely.’ He followed her outside, his eyes on hers, then jerked back as Clint waggled a croissant in his face.
‘It’s got pink sprinkles on it,’ Clint announced.
Iris beamed. ‘They’re very nice. My sister makes them.’
Rocco took the pastry and bit straight into it. ‘When in Rome.’
Iris’s grin quickly faded, as a commotion was going on along the road.