CHAPTER 8 #2
“Of course. I know how you two left things.” Immi follows my gaze.
On paper, Colin is everything you’d want in a neighbour.
He owns a string of lucrative businesses around the world, a strategic mind that is both witty and sharp, covered with a thick layer of charm which he bestows on everyone through his dazzling smile.
He was the first person I met when I moved in here with Jude, and that smile drew me in the moment it landed on me.
“OK.” I look down at the card in my hand, the name embossed slightly on the thick paper. A private investigator might help, someone who can dig into the depths of the faces around me.
“Look, you don’t have to take it, darling. It’s only a suggestion.” Immi’s voice catches slightly.
“I know, it’s just that…” My words trail away, my teeth sink into the edge of my cheek. For a PI to investigate my neighbours, he also has to investigate me.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Immi says, and that heat rises again.
“Nothing.” The lie falls flat between us. I shift my weight back, taking a sip to busy my hands, and my mouth.
Immi doesn’t fill the silence and neither do I. Across the garden, Jude steps out of the house, her arm outstretched in a wave. I smile, nodding slightly.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” Immi says again, stepping into my line of sight.
Jude moves away and the nervous energy I felt returns.
I need to tell her about the possibility of the stalker being someone at this party, but mostly, I need to know if she’s found out anything else.
“Ella?” Immi moves her face so our eyes lock, her brows draw in but no wrinkles show.
“I don’t need your help,” I snap, fingers tightening on the card. I thrust it back at her, something rippling through my chest. This is all too dangerous, and Immi is poking the bear she doesn’t know.
A look passes over Immi’s face for a moment. It’s dark and unrecognisable but it causes my hand to fall limp by my side, the card hanging weakly between my fingers. Suddenly, she’s not a naive woman with a savvy eye for business, but something ruthless and angry.
“You have a really bad habit of pushing people away, do you know that?” Her voice is low through a small gap in her lips. She turns on her bare heel and walks away.
I look down at the card. The alcohol curdles in my stomach.
Immi’s not wrong.
The afternoon unwinds, Immi’s snipped words still echoing in my ear as I talk to people and laugh where I am meant to.
Rufus appears at my side, topping up my drink or whispering names of people I should go and speak to.
But by the time the sun begins to set, my shoulders ache and the idea that one of my neighbours is watching me doesn’t feel far-fetched.
“Drink?” I turn to find Jude, a smile on her face and a drink in her hand.
“God you’re psychic.” I take the square glass, filled to the brim with a fizzing cocktail.
This whole afternoon has made it impossible to get a moment alone with her; every time we talk, another person pops up to add to the conversation.
I can’t help but glance at the orange juice in her hand, knowing what it means.
“Yeah, back at it again,” Jude nods, her right hand instinctively grazing her stomach.
“That’s a good thing, I’m glad.” And I am. If there were two people perfectly suited to being parents, it was Jude and Marcus.
“Thanks. If I am honest, it’s much harder than I expected. There’s more to it than sleeping with my husband. It’s an emotional rollercoaster,” Jude says.
I take her hand, unsure of what to say. I wouldn’t dare pretend to understand what it’s like.
“It sounds exhausting. I’m crossing everything for you two, you’d be the best parents.”
“I think we need it. Until then I’ll keep refilling your drink, you look like you need it. Nothing has happened, has it?” Jude says.
As always, Jude sees more than I ever intend to let anyone see. “No, it’s just… I really could do with not being here.”
I take a long drink, letting the bubbles collect on my tongue before swallowing them down.
Jude sits beside me on the bench. “These things are all networking for some business or other.”
“They really are,” I lean back, “plus Immi and I had a little tiff.”
Jude’s cackle causes me to jump, her shoulders rolling forward as she does. “Sometimes you say the most hilarious things. Tiff!”
I let out a laugh. It’s not something I say.
“Is Marcus not here?”
“Oh, no, he’s back-to-back meetings this afternoon, but I needed something other than the same four walls,” Jude says.
“Pretty sure you have more than four walls in that mansion of yours,” I jibe.
“What can I say, I’m a spoilt princess.” Jude doffs an invisible hat. The conversation hits a lull, one that nestles comfortably between us and we sip our drinks.
Finally, I say what has been bubbling in the back of my mind. “Look,” I lower my voice and lean closer to Jude, “I’m worried about someone here, one of our friends, sending me the threat.”
Jude sips her drink, eyeing me curiously. “Of course, Ella. You’re not alone in this, but that does mean we need to start looking at who, closer to home, might want to threaten you.”
“Immi hired a PI,” I say.
“You told Immi?” There’s a hitch in Jude’s voice, a look shifting across her face. For a moment it sounds as though she was suspicious of Immi.
“She’s not that bad. A little abrasive, sure, but you can trust her.” I ignore the pointed look that Jude has plastered over her face. Their problems are between the two of them, not me.
“Have you spoken to this PI?” Jude says.
“Not yet. If I’m honest, I’m not even sure if I want to use them,” I say, the thick snake of tension heavy around my shoulders.
“I can understand that, but if we run with the idea that someone here was in your house, not a random stranger, then we also need to hold the possibility that one of your friends knows your abusive ex-boyfriend,” Jude says, and she’s right. Even though she doesn’t know everything.
I scan the garden again, searching for Colin. The powerful man with access to my home and a perfect excuse to torment me. The scorned lover is clichéd but true.
Jude turns to me, her brows knitted together. “What are you thinking?”
I keep my eyes steady on Colin. “I need a plan. A list of names.”
The booze softens the itching thought that forms. Colin is connected in ways I can’t imagine, and it wouldn’t be too much for him to have met Henry. For Henry to talk, and for Colin to slip that knowledge away for a later date.
“Yes,” Jude says, “we can do that.”
I have to take another sip to hide the flush in my cheeks. Having Jude on my side, no questions asked, is undeserved, but I am thankful for it.
“Do you think he’s involved?” she says, following my line of sight and landing on Colin.
“It would be silly not to.”
“But it’s also a bit dangerous, threatening an ex-girlfriend,” Jude says.
It would be, but not impossible.
“The risks outweigh the rewards. Either way, there’s a motive.”
His house sits on the east side of the upper village, and although I’ve never been privy to it, unlike Rufus, I always heard about some of the things that happen there.
Endless lines of expensive cars that appear and disappear, constant visitors at all hours, oversized men standing guard at his door.
“Do you know that he’s being investigated?” Jude’s voice is barely audible, her eyes on him.
“Yes.” I had stumbled upon it while researching a new podcast episode. The more I dug, the murkier it all got. Colin runs a hand over his hair now, smiling as he speaks. He gave me a similar look when I confronted him with the information.
“I heard it was some sort of money ring?” Jude says.
I say nothing. Colin leans forward, placing a hand on the small of a woman’s back as he talks. His wife standing nearby, stoic and eyes averted. Memories tug. I have no evidence of it, but I know he’s involved. People like that don’t get that connected without stepping on some souls.
As though my thoughts pull on his thread, Colin turns to me, a cupcake balanced in the palm of his open hand. He waves, smiling slightly.
There’s a shift in the weather, the cool breeze picking up and the sun dropping behind a cloud.
If there was anyone with both means and motive, it is Colin Carson.
“Look,” I say, my drink tasting bitter now, “I think I’m going to go home.”