Chapter 38
When Cal and Skye arrived at Sea Haven on Sunday afternoon, Jamie had a chicken and potatoes roasting in the oven, and veg cooking on the stove.
Skye stopped short in the kitchen and stared at him. “When Cal said you were cooking, I assumed it’d be frozen pizzas or pasta or something quick and easy. I didn’t realise you were properly cooking.”
“Cal said Moira always cooks a Sunday roast.” He bent to peer in the oven, resisting the urge to open the door and check how it was coming on. Straightening up, he caught a look passing between Skye and Cal.
“You know you shouldn’t always believe everything Cal tells you,” Skye said with a small smile.
Jamie cocked his head. “So Moira doesn’t usually cook a roast?”
“She does sometimes,” Cal said, pulling out a chair.
“You said every Sunday.”
“I may have stretched the truth a little. But I never said you should cook a roast.”
“Yes, you did!”
“Did I?” He grimaced. “I’m fairly sure I only said it’d be nice if you did.”
“You said if I didn’t cook a roast, you’d tell Moira I’ve lost Misty.”
“Yeah. That rings a bell.”
“I’m going to have to tell her anyway.” Jamie had already decided he’d call her that evening. He wanted to tell her himself, not have her hear it from someone else.
“You probably should.” Cal’s voice had the faraway quality of someone not concentrating on the conversation. He had his phone in his hand. “I invited Emma,” he said. “She read the message but hasn’t replied.”
“Same,” Skye said, sitting on the window seat.
Cal tapped away on his phone. “I’ll message her again.”
“She won’t come,” Jamie said. “You should have seen the looks she was giving me this morning. She’s furious with me. I reckon she’ll avoid me for the rest of my time here.”
“Tell us again what happened,” Skye said, leaning on the table. “I still can’t believe Mr Langford killed his wife.”
Jamie had already given them a brief rundown over the phone, but he went through it all again, in more detail this time.
“I knew I hadn’t messed up the banister,” he said eventually.
“It’s so cool that you got Mr Langford to confess,” Skye said.
“I didn’t.” He thought he’d been clear about that. “It was all Emma. I was convinced it was Heather who’d pushed her mum. I would have left it at that, but Emma kept digging. I thought she went quiet because she didn’t know what to say, but I can see now it was all strategic.”
Skye beamed with second-hand pride. “I told you she’s great at her job.”
“She is,” he agreed.
Cal placed his phone on the table. “She’s still not replying.”
“There’s no way she’ll come,” Jamie said. “She can’t stand the sight of me.”
It seemed that Emma had two choices. The first and most appealing was to spend the evening on her couch with a mountain of junk food and finish the detective novel her neighbour had given her. Or she could go and eat at Sea Haven like she usually did on Sundays.
Realistically, she wasn’t likely to be able to avoid Jamie Sinclair for the rest of his time here, so she might as well face him and get it over with.
Maybe she could even figure out why Moira had chosen him to house-sit for her.
She was convinced there was more to it than just needing someone to look after the business.
In the end, she couldn’t stand the thought of Jamie hanging out with Cal and Skye, and her feeling excluded from the group. So she grabbed a couple of bars of Dairy Milk from her cupboard and drove over there.
Jamie’s eyebrow quirked in that annoying confused expression when he opened the door.
“I brought dessert,” she said, thrusting the chocolate at him.
He took a step back to let her in. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Cal invited me.”
“I didn’t mean you weren’t invited. I’m only surprised that you came.”
“We always eat at Moira’s on Sundays.”
“Yeah.” He stared at her while she hung her coat on the rack. “But I thought that after this morning . . .”
“You thought I’d be angry?”
“Yes.”
“I am. But that’s work. I’m not at work now.”
“Right. Yeah. Well, I’m sorry about this morning.”
She huffed out a sigh. It didn’t seem she’d get away with avoiding the subject. “Why did you speak to Heather when I specifically told you not to?”
“I wasn’t intending to, but she saw me outside the house and asked what I was doing.”
“Okay.” She rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead.
“Here’s the thing . . . I have a lot of cases on my desk and there are only so many hours in a day.
Which means that sometimes things don’t always get the attention they deserve.
I also have a boss, so I can’t work on whatever I feel like.
” Her gaze dropped to her shoes. “It’s good that you poked your nose in, I suppose. You got Heather to talk.”
His lips twitched. “Is that an apology or a thank you?”
“Whatever you want it to be,” she said, walking past him. She stopped farther along the hall and turned back. “I’m not even sure it was for the best.” She paused, thinking. “Mr Langford will probably go to prison, and I’m not sure he deserves that.”
“No,” Jamie agreed with a frown. “It’s better to know the truth though, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “And at least Heather knows it wasn’t her fault.”
“I was convinced it was her,” Jamie said, a smile brightening his eyes. “She said she hadn’t pushed Marguerite, but I thought she probably had.”
“I knew from the state of the rail that no one had pushed her. The only logical explanation was that someone had loosened the screws. I’d been waiting for forensics to confirm that.
I’d already had my suspicions about Mr Langford.
You’d mentioned to begin with that he’d known the rail was loose for a while and hadn’t done anything about it.
That seemed odd, when he was supposedly so devoted to her.
This morning when I suggested Heather had tussled with her mother, I watched Mr Langford’s reaction. ”
She shrugged. “He seemed very certain that his daughter hadn’t done anything wrong. And he didn’t make any comment about her not calling an ambulance immediately. As though he didn’t care.”
Jamie smiled warmly. “I’m just glad we figured out the truth and no one can blame my repair job.”
“Emma!” Skye shouted, appearing in the kitchen doorway. “I’m trying to convince Cal that we should play Scrabble after dinner. What do you think?”
Warmth filled her belly. “Cal and I aren’t allowed to play that anymore.”
“I know, but I thought that since Moira isn’t here . . .”
“Maybe. When’s dinner ready?”
“Soon.” Jamie held the chocolate up as he strode past her. “This is a poor effort for dessert, by the way.”
“You don’t have to eat it!” She rolled her eyes at Skye, who bounded over and flung her arms around her.
“I’m so glad you came over,” she said in her ear.
Emma shrugged away the physical contact and headed for the kitchen which smelled divine.
Not that she’d admit it, but she was glad she’d come too.
“Hi, Misty,” she said, when the cat nuzzled her leg. She picked her up and made a fuss of her. “I missed you too,” she crooned, rubbing her face against Misty’s.
The room fell silent and she flushed when she caught all eyes on her. Maybe she could be a bit cold sometimes, but surely it wasn’t so shocking that she was affectionate with the cat. “What?” she growled at Jamie who continued to stare at her.
“Nothing.” He turned and lifted the chicken out of the oven.
Cal had a smirk on his face while Skye snorted a laugh.
“What’s going on?” Emma asked, eyes darting between the three of them.
“Nothing,” Jamie said again. “Food’s ready!”
Emma ran her hand over Misty’s back and glared at Cal. “Tell me what’s going on.”
When he only grinned, Emma turned on Skye instead.
“Spill the beans,” she growled.
“Sorry,” Skye said to Cal. “I’m sorry, I can’t anymore . . .”
“Can’t what?” Emma asked. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”
“Nothing,” Cal said, mock-innocently.
Jamie moved in front of her. “I lost Misty,” he said sheepishly.
“Okay,” she said, drawing the syllables out. “Panic over, I guess.” Again, she rubbed her forehead against the cat’s.
“You don’t understand,” Jamie said. “Misty’s still lost.”
Emma stared at him. “You’re absolutely right that I don’t understand. If Misty is lost, who the heck is this cat in my arms?”
“We don’t know,” Jamie explained. “It turned up after Misty disappeared.”
Laughter bubbled inside her as she figured out what was going on. “Cal,” she whispered. “What the heck did you do?”
“It was a joke!” he shouted, while Skye doubled over, clutching her stomach as she roared with laughter. “You were right about him not being great with jokes.”
“What was a joke?” Jamie asked.
Cal extended an arm in his direction, pointing. “See! It’s like he just doesn’t understand the entire concept of jokes.”
“What’s going on?” Jamie asked Emma.
“This is Misty,” she said, shaking her head. “How long have they let you think Misty was missing?”
“I . . . they . . . Misty is missing.” He looked wildly at Cal. His features went from questioning to realisation and then disbelief. “No!”
Cal nodded smugly.
“She was never lost?” He slapped both hands on the crown of his head. “What about her collar and tag? She had a tag with her name.”
Cal reached into his pocket and threw the purple collar onto the table.
Emma pressed her lips together in a feeble attempt to hide her amusement. “How long have you thought she was lost?”
“Long enough to plaster the town with posters.”
“Oh, I’ve seen those. I didn’t realise that was Misty. That was mean, Cal.”
“Really mean,” Jamie agreed, giving Skye a playful shove that only made her laugh more.
“In my defence,” Cal said, “I thought it was going to be a two-minute joke! He was supposed to realise I was messing with him straight away. How was I to know he’s completely gullible?”
“How was I to know you’d make a joke like that?” Jamie turned on Skye. “And you went along with it!”
“Sorry!” she said, not looking even slightly remorseful. “It was pretty funny.”
“You should be thankful we didn’t let you take her to the vet to see if she was microchipped!” Cal quipped.
“I tried, but they were closed.” Jamie’s eyes widened. “Can you imagine her face when she explained to me it was my cat!”
“Why were you going to take her to the vet?” Emma asked.
“Because I thought this was someone’s lost cat. I’ve been calling her Shadow all this time, and searching the streets for Misty.” He covered his face with his hands. “I put up posters about the cat I’d found!”
Emma’s smile made her cheeks ache. “So you’ve put up lost and found posters for the same cat?”
“Yep.” He nodded a few times, then dropped into a chair and lowered his head to the table.
Emma watched, waiting for his reaction. If it was her, she’d be furious, but when he turned his head to Cal his features were relaxed. A moment later laughter overtook him. It set Skye off again, and Cal joined in with his throaty chuckle that always made Emma feel better about the world.
While the three of them laughed uncontrollably, she put Misty down and moved to the stove to help with dinner, smiling widely.
Spending the afternoon at Moira’s place had definitely been the better choice.