Chapter 13 Robin #2
“Well that was handy wasn’t it.” Lil mocks, completely unbothered about the game continuing. “Darling, I'm going for a little nap. Please wake me when the detectives arrive.” As she passes, she gives my shoulder a little squeeze.
“Yes boss.” I salute, catching a small tug at the side of Cardy’s lip. Nearly got him.
“Can I see the clue?”
“Sure. Are you heading down?” He hands over the red envelope but keeps the secret.
Interesting.
I nod for him to go first but he sighs, moving around me so that I have to take a step down before he can. For a caveman, his manners are impeccable. As I peel back the envelope and look over the next clue, I can feel the tension from him bursting as we manoeuvre the stairs.
“I can’t stop worrying about Aya, and Starling wouldn’t tell me shit. I don’t even know if she got home. She might not even know Corbin is dead.” He whispers and I’m just surprised he’s opening up to me of all people.
“Do you think she’d have anything to do with it?
” The words are out before I can even grasp what I’ve asked.
I’m about to apologise for being insensitive, but Cardinal doesn’t act how I’d expect.
There’s no outrage or shock, he just shakes his head as we continue down the stairs till we meet the tiles at the bottom.
“Not Aya. She’s never been good with confrontation and I don’t think she could reach any level of anger to be violent.”
“If she’s not good with confrontation, why was she going to marry him?” That man knew how to push buttons and get what he wanted, all through dominating and large amounts of confrontational conversations. Oh and gas lighting–lots of that.
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve only met him once and she wasn’t even there.
He was having a meeting with Father, and as I walked into his office, they both came out.
He came across as a total arsehole, we didn’t even know she was dating.
” I can see that vein tick in his neck, as he licks at the corner of his lip.
“It’s my fault. I’m normally more involved in her life and especially with business, but my family have had me working on other things recently. ”
How ominous.
“I found her luggage still in their room. I was looking for the clue, not snooping.” I add, worried he’ll really think I’m Nancy Drew.
We turn through the open doors of the dining room and like each day this weekend, we’re attacked by the sheer drapes that no one seems to be able to pin back. Luckily he holds it back for me, but he gets tangled once the breeze from the lake blows them into his face.
“I don’t care what the detectives said, I’m going to leave.”
I gawk at him. “You can’t! They’ll arrest you for defying orders?” I cringe, my words ending on a question because I actually don’t know if they can do that.
“Defy orders,” he mocks, scoffing at me. “You’re a crime writer, don’t you know? I need to get home to make sure she’s ok.”
“I really don’t think you should leave. Also, I write fiction.
I can make Detective Featherton do anything.
I could make him arrest someone because the village cafe ran out of beans at peak breakfast time.
It’s. Not. Real.” I think back to the minor research I actually did into laws and the legal system before writing.
Most of what I know comes from other books and television programs; I grew up in the fictional world of Agatha Christie, so my actual real life knowledge on policing is basic at best.
“Great credentials Drew.”
Standing out on the patio, we’re hit with the full south facing sun.
The heat stings, so I keep walking towards the steps that will take me to lower ground.
Everyone might have been at the lakes this morning, but now they’re perched on furniture at the bottom of the gardens.
The rugs are still out here from their make shift stage, along with blankets, scatter cushions of all sizes and Phin I’m guessing has brought out the long sofa from the music room.
They’ve already uncorked a fresh bottle of champagne and I catch sight of an empty one laid on the grass.
The persian rugs give everything a bohemian vibe, especially with Bran and Jay semi naked, hair wild whilst they both strum guitars casually.
Phin lays with his face tilted to the sky, eyes closed but flute full of sparkly liquid.
Merle on the other hand sits far away, opposite his brother and notices our approach first.
“What if they suspect you had something to do with it?” I hiss at Cardinal as he starts to walk across the grass.
“If she left her luggage they might have argued–fucking hell, I can't not go make sure she's ok.”
I have so many questions, but we pass the nook in the trees where yellow tape cordons off the pool house.
Nausea rolls in my stomach so I push on, passing the cupressus that shields it from view, leaving it alone in the shade of the forest's edge. Of course Willow is in a tiny black bikini; her skin a gorgeous shade of olive brought on by the sun. Perching on the corner of the sofa next to Phin, her leg brushes up against Mavis, who lays against both men, staring off into the trees whilst they play a non comital tune. I think it’s meant to be a slow melody of The Larks current hit.
“When are the detectives getting here?” He asks the group, stopping on the fringe of the rug.
“They’re talking to our favourite rockstar.” Willow rolls her eyes, pressing her sunglasses back up the bridge of her nose. If they’re speaking to Wren for a second time, what movement on the case could they have made already?
I look up towards the grey stone hotel, it’s presence more looming than it ever has been. “We didn’t hear them come back?”
“It was pretty early. They wanted to speak with Phoenix." Merle replies. My best friend doesn’t even open his eyes, but lifts the champagne to his lips and in the process dribbles. His last rehabilitation program had encouraged no alcohol, which he’d respected for at least a year until he’d met Merle.
Now I wondered if a trip away with Wren had done enough, especially looking at the drained champagne bottle in the grass.
Unperturbed he downs the entire glass, then lifts it in the air. “Robbie, be a darling and fill me up.”
“She’s not here to serve—”
“Sure. Just a little bit?” I cut Merle off, giving him an apologetic smile as I crouch down in front of the sofa to run my hand through his messy waves. “How are you feeling?”
“Dreadfully hungover. Like someone fucked me with a chainsaw.” He frowns dramatically, finally opening his baby blue eyes.
I lower my voice. “Did you have any food this morning?”
“Champagne is a great five a day.”
I try to keep my sigh in, rebating whether to refill his flute or end this madness before he gets wrecked before midday.
Even behind the trees I can feel the pool house’s dark energy, a reminder of his loss.
I so badly want to say fuck it, give in to letting him feel numb just for today—look past how damaging this could be to all the progress he’s made.
Slowly taking the glass, I fill it up half way and defeatedly give it back. I don’t miss Merle’s annoyed huff. Moving onto my knees, I remain below the sofa as Cardinal brushes past me and to my surprise, lifts Willow's ankle so it no longer touches Mavis and sits on the corner.
“Do you fucking mind?” She sneers and we all witness an anomaly that day, as a smile tugs his lip up into an amused smirk.
“Not at all Princess. Get comfy.” Scoffing, she shifts onto one hip and affectly turns her body from him. “Didn’t think to pack any clothes?” He continues, taking his index finger and running it under the shoulder strap of her bikini top.
“Brave man.” Jay stage whispers, and whilst Willow tries to hide how annoyed she is, he seems to bask in it.
“Wren won’t be long.” Phin tilts his head to me, but I focus my eyesight on the way Bran casually plucks the guitar strings.
“I don’t care.” I know it’s childish, but I’m nipping these feelings in the butt. I don’t care where he is, how long he’ll be and the sooner we can leave the better.
“Robbie…” he starts, but something tight in his tone makes me shut him down.
“What did the detectives ask you about?” I ask the group, lifting my knees up at an angle to rest my arms on them.
Mavis shifts on the blanket she’s laid out and Jay rubs his thumb soothingly across the back of her hand. The guitar falters, but Bran keeps playing the same three notes over.
“They wanted to know how we knew Corbin. Why we’d been invited, which guests did we know here, as well as other questions.”
“They think it’s one of us.” Phin sings songs, worrying me as he downs the glass I just poured for him.
“One of us?”
“Yep. In the dead of night, someone crept in and smashed him over the head.” He bites the air and makes claws, like he’s telling a scary bed time story.
“Phoenix that is enough.” His boyfriend says calmly, but it doesn’t cover up his distaste. “You’ve had enough to drink.”
Saluting him with his empty glass, he sits up in one quick movement.
One moment he looked like he was nodding off, now I can see how red rimmed his eyes are and they’re bloodshot.
“You’re the one who suggested we sit out here in this morbid garden.
This entire place is tainted. We’re done, the hotel won’t survive and we’ve not even opened. ”
“Now is not the time for this conversation!” Merle hisses, getting to his feet.
“Detective Starling has asked to keep the library free for their use, so everyone needs to keep clear whilst they investigate. It’s probably for the best that we don't carry on with the weekend as planned, but I better go figure out our meal plans for the next couple of days.” With that he stalks towards the house, not turning back and his brother lets out a low whistle.
“Do you have to wind him up?”