Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
The trip to Pendower Beach was exactly the distraction Lily needed. They spent a couple of hours ambling along the long stretch of sandy shore. As she’d expected, the familiar sounds of waves and seagulls soothed her.
When they grabbed an ice cream at a cosy beach hut, it got Lily talking about her own ice cream shop, and she spent a while explaining to Clara the ice cream making process and how she’d developed her own flavours and recipes.
The conversation meandered to her life on Scilly and the friends she’d made there.
Clara listened avidly and frequently asked questions.
They were almost back at the car park when Lily’s phone buzzed with a call from Roy. She sighed as she answered.
“Anyone interested in our suspicions?” she asked him, without a lot of hope.
“Yes. CID are interested. A detective sergeant will come out and speak to you tomorrow morning.”
Lily stopped dead on the sandy path that led to the car park. “A detective sergeant?”
“No need to sound so surprised. They agree that something sounds off, and they want to look into it.”
“A detective won’t come in a marked car, will they?”
“No.”
“That’s great. Keeps things under the radar for now.”
“For someone whose boyfriend is a PC, you’re pretty untrusting of the police.”
“I’m not untrusting,” she argued, then winced. “Well, maybe a bit.”
“DS Sutton will be with you at ten tomorrow,” he said cheerfully. “I think you’ll like her. I’ll join if you don’t mind.”
“See you then,” she said, then ended the call and relayed the conversation to Clara.
“I’ll tell her I’m sure it can’t be anything to do with Marcie,” she said. “But it’s good they’re taking it seriously.”
They stopped for dinner at an Italian restaurant on the way home and were both low on energy by the time they made it back to Kingfisher Cottage.
“I need to call Flynn,” Lily said through a yawn. “And I might have an early night.” Mostly, she just needed time to herself. Spending time with her grandmother was actually very easy, but she was still craving a bit of alone time.
With a watery smile, Clara sank onto the couch.
“Are you okay?” Lily asked, pausing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Yes. I just have a feeling we’ve missed something. Or someone.”
“I know you don’t want Marcie to be questioned, but if she didn’t do it, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I wish I could figure it out, that’s all.”
“Me too,” Lily said, then wished her goodnight before traipsing upstairs.
Perched on the edge of her bed, she called Flynn. He didn’t answer.
A message came through from him a moment later.
Bad timing. Talk to you soon.
Lily stared at the words that felt oddly cryptic. Flynn was usually much more straightforward. Why was it bad timing, and what did talk soon mean? Why not say he’d call her back in a bit or something more specific?
Flynn was supposed to be the one part of her life that wasn’t a mystery.
In the silence, she heard the distant clang of ropes hitting the boat masts down at the marina, and shivered as she imagined Bert out there on his boat.
After pulling out her collection of papers from Richard Harper, she got comfortable on the bed and started flicking through them all again.
It wasn’t long before the words started to blur together.
She’d looked through everything multiple times already, so she wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find.
Setting them beside her, she checked her phone, but there was nothing more from Flynn.
Her gaze drifted to the newspaper clipping on top of the papers. Frowning at one particular sentence, she lifted it up to read it again.
A local hairdresser was the first to raise the alarm after seeing smoke from her bedroom window.
Surely there weren’t many local hairdressers who lived close enough to see the smoke. It must have been Vanessa.
Quickly, she scanned through the other newspaper articles, but none of them mentioned Vanessa. And no one had mentioned her being on the scene that night.
It made sense, though. Vanessa would have had a good view of her old house. It was a little odd that she’d reported smoke rather than fire. With the house in darkness, you’d have thought the smoke would be difficult to see.
Maybe she’d smelled it, or maybe the newspaper had reported it wrong. Either way, Lily wouldn’t mind speaking to her and finding out exactly what she’d seen.
Hopping up from the bed, she folded the newspaper clipping and shoved it into her back pocket. Then she checked the time – just after nine – not too late for a quick visit.
As she padded down the stairs, she debated what the best approach was regarding her gran. If she told Clara where she was going, she’d no doubt want to come too, but she’d really rather go alone.
The kitchen door was closed, and light spilled out from under it. Lily wouldn’t be gone long anyway, so it was probably easier just to fill her in when she got back.
Quietly, she slipped out of the front door and made her way along the path until she stood outside Primrose Cottage.
Gentle lamplight lit up the living room.
Through the window, Lily spotted a laptop and mug on the coffee table and was reassured that she wasn’t disturbing Vanessa too late in the evening.
She rang the doorbell and waited.
With no response, she shifted to look closer through the window. There was no sign of Vanessa, but candles were lit and flickering on the mantel, so she must be in there somewhere. Maybe in the bathroom.
Lily rang the doorbell again.
As the silence dragged on, she turned to look at the river. Silver moonlight danced on the surface.
“Where are you?” Lily muttered as she impatiently jabbed at the doorbell again. This time, when there was no answer, she tried the handle.
The door was unlocked, and she grimaced as she pushed it slowly open. She felt uncomfortable invading Vanessa’s privacy, but she could claim she was worried at the lack of answer and was merely being a concerned citizen.
“Vanessa?” she called, injecting warmth into her tone. “Is everything okay?”
Maybe she was in the bath.
“It’s just Lily!” she added. “I wanted to ask you something…”
She took a step into the hallway and waited.
“Vanessa?” she shouted.
Okay, now she was actually concerned.
Moving into the living room, she touched the side of the mug with the back of her hand and found it was still warm. Bending, she tapped the keypad of the laptop, bringing the screen to life.
“What the heck?” With wide eyes, Lily sank onto the couch, staring at the screen which displayed reviews of her ice cream shop on Scilly.
A chill ran down her spine as she clicked onto another tab and found an online news article about Lily reopening the ice cream shop. Another tab was a travel blog with a write up about the ice cream shop.
Lily straightened up, trying to conjure a reasonable explanation for why Vanessa had been researching her. Maybe it was plain curiosity. Why not just talk to her, though?
“Vanessa!” Lily shouted angrily, no longer concerned about being caught trespassing.
She went to the kitchen, then hurried up the stairs, calling out to Vanessa as she went. At the top of the stairs, the bathroom door stood open, as did the bedroom doors.
“Where are you?” Lily said, marching into the back bedroom, where the bedding hung half off the bed and a collection of clothes was draped haphazardly over the back of a chair.
At the window, Lily stared across at her old house. Through the hedge she could see the lights on and the flicker of the TV.
She didn’t linger, but strode back out of the room and crossed the hall. In the front bedroom, she stopped short.
A single bed was neatly made, but the large desk beside the window wasn’t in such an orderly state. The papers strewn across it drew Lily’s attention immediately.
Newspaper clippings.
Lots of them.
Lily’s stomach turned to stone as she picked up a handful of them. The largest one had a photo of Lily with her parents – all three of them beaming into the camera. At the other side of the full-page spread was a photo of their house with flames licking up the front of it.
Lily had a handful of clippings from Mr Harper and had found a few more online, but the amount in front of her now was overwhelming. Her knees felt weak, and a wave of nausea swept through her as she sifted through the articles.
Most were about the fire, but there were articles about the proposed development project too, and a small article about Clara’s fall where the reporter rehashed the details of the fire as well.
Spreading the articles out on the desk, Lily pulled out her phone and snapped a few photos. She fired them off to Roy and told him where she’d found them.
As fear crept over the back of Lily’s neck, she paused to listen for sounds in the house. Where was Vanessa?
She was about to head back downstairs when a bunch of folders on the corner shelving unit caught her eye. Drifting over to them, she read the labels: Holiday Lets; Insurance; Harper Developments; Bank Statements; Business Loan.
With a pounding heart, Lily thought back to her conversation with Roy.
Anyone with a local business would have been against the development project.
Hesitantly, she reached for the file labelled Business Loan and opened it. The documents were old and the ink had faded in places. The first was a business plan, neatly laid out with proposed renovations to the cottages and projected income for renting them out.
The next documents were correspondence with the bank, including an approval for a loan to cover the cost of renovations. After that came bills for the work done – all dated a few months before the fire.
“You wouldn’t have been able to pay the loan back,” Lily mumbled while her chest squeezed, pushing the air from her lungs. “The development project would have ruined your business.”
For a moment, she stayed rooted to the spot. Could her parents’ killer have been right under her nose this whole time?
As her gaze landed on the desk again, Lily knew the answer. It was Vanessa.
A few taps on her phone and she had photos of the paperwork for the loan and the business plan. She sent them straight to Roy, then stared out of the window again and the perfect view of the marina.
Had Vanessa watched Lily plunge into the water? Had she watched her walk back up and been annoyed that her plan to get rid of Lily hadn’t worked?
Given the view, Clara’s plan of luring Vanessa out would have worked like a charm. She’d probably been watching them come and go this whole time.
“No!” Lily shouted in a panic.
Her feet barely touched the stairs as she rushed back down and straight out of the door. Running back to Kingfisher Cottage, she flung the door open and charged inside.
“Clara!” she yelled. “Clara!” Her throat tightened. “Gran!”
The kitchen light was still on, but the room was empty. It must have been empty when Lily left earlier as well. Clara had sneaked out without Lily noticing.
Quickly, she checked upstairs, then ran back outside.
Down on the road, she looked up and down, trying to think calmly enough to figure out which way to go.
Which way would Clara have gone?
Another wave of nausea hit Lily as she recalled what her grandmother had said about wishing she’d been prepared the last time Vanessa had come after her.
She’d gone back to the steps, Lily was sure of it.
Without another thought, she set off running.