Berry Murderous Page 2
“I thought you said you were retired.” The kettle boiled, Charley got to work, pouring out cups for all the builders. “How d’you have work at night?”
“I keep an eye on the heavens,” Reg said, his eyes lighting up with the same fervor that always consumed him when he got onto his favorite topic. “I’m a UFO spotter for our town. It’s my job to view the sky every night and investigate every suspicious sighting folks in the village have.”
“You what?” Jeff looked at Reg with a smirk on his face. “Are you mental, or something?”
A flash of color crossed Reg’s face, displacing the earlier sadness. “No. I’m not mental. There’re plenty of sightings of things we can’t explain going on every night. Not just in this country, it’s a recognized phenomenon in every place in the world.”
“What?” Jeff gave a bark of disbelieving laughter. “You mean, having a town nutter pointing at the sky and mistaking a star for a UFO happens worldwide?”
Charley bristled and stepped before his boss before Reg got the chance. “Leave off him. Everyone’s got their hobbies.”
“Yeah. You certainly treat this job as though it were a hobby.”
Willow’s earlier anxiety crept back into position. She jumped up, grabbing a couple of the mugs Charley had already prepared. “Give me a hand with these, will you?” She threw a pointed look at Charley. “I’m sure the men are ready for a break. There’re some cookies in the cupboard, too.”
“Lovely.” Charley’s eyes lit up, and he grabbed the box, pulling it open and plucking the top one out to pop straight into his mouth. He tucked the rest of the packet underneath his arm, picking up the remaining mugs to follow Willow through into the conservatory.
After a quick chat with the other builders, Willow heard the raised voices of an increasingly heated argument coming from her kitchen. “I better get back.” The reluctance of her slow footsteps showed precisely how much she wanted to do that.
Reg was shouting as she walked back in. “Are you foolish enough to think the government tells you everything? Do you really think Watergate was an anomaly? Wise up. Politicians have been blatantly lying to everyone for years. Next, you’ll be saying you believe in the moon landing.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “If you think that’s a conspiracy too, why don’t you tell it to Buzz Aldrin’s face? I’d love to see him punch you out for spouting such nonsense.”
“Do you mind?” Willow’s voice wasn’t loud, but it made up for in anger what it lacked in volume. She glared at the head builder. “I’m trying to have a peaceful morning break with my friend, and I don’t need it interrupted by someone who should be doing the job I employed him to do.”
Willow held her back so straight her muscles started to shake with the effort. At her full height, she stood five feet eleven. More than a match for most men and Jeff was no exception. Recognition of where he was seemed to flood into his face a second before he blushed with the shame of being told off. Although Willow sympathized, she didn’t stand down.
“Yeah, sorry. I got a bit heated.” Jeff held out his hand to Reg, who tentatively shook it in return. “Apologies, mate. You can believe in whatever you like, it’s no skin off my nose.”
In light of the volume his voice had been a minute ago, Willow doubted that was the case. At least he was trying to be gracious though.
Reg wasn’t attempting the same. Willow could tell from the curl of his lip he was about to launch into another lecture on the ills of the world. On any other day, she’d show him the sharp side of her tongue as well, but today required special handling. Instead of giving him the talking-to he should have, Willow maneuvered Reg toward the exit.
“I’m taking you out for brunch, and I won’t take no for an answer. I haven’t had anything to eat yet, and I’m about to faint from hunger, okay?”
Reg gave a nod of acquiescence, but his eyes lingered on Jeff, glaring at his new adversary over Willow’s shoulder until she slammed the front door shut, cutting off his view.
When it came, the café brunch was so lovely Willow had to fight an internal battle against staying seated and ordering a second one. She picked at the last crumbs on her plate and sighed as she decided seconds weren’t needed. The sunlight might not be intense today, but it was enough to chase the blues of early morning away.
“I’m going to go down to the library and visit Harmony,” Reg said as they walked out of the café. “She can give me a nice lecture on whatever her latest reading fad is, and that should take me clear through to the afternoon!”
Willow laughed and kissed him goodbye. She understood all too well the long, sad days a person had to crawl through to reach another morning, which might not be so bad. Her blue day would be taking place in a few weeks and given her marriage hadn’t been as enjoyable as Reg’s, it probably wouldn’t be as difficult. Nevertheless, the bond of loss was what had first brought her and Reg together, so at least they’d built something good out of it.
Harmony didn’t work at the town library, but she spent so much time there she might as well have. In the time it would take the actual librarian to look up a book on the rickety computer system, Harmony could step in and lead the customer directly to the right shelf.
The peace and quiet of the library greatly appealed to Willow too, but she forced herself to wave goodbye to Reg and head home. She had a kitten to think of, one she preferred not to leave alone in the company of builders for too long. She dreaded Mavis learning even half the lexicon of slang and swear words that sometimes came pouring out of the worker’s mouths. It might be a rich and varied language, but she didn’t want it sullying her darling Mavis’ ears.
As though thinking about her was a summons, Mavis was waiting for Willow at the front gate. She stooped to pick the kitten up, earning a loud click in each knee from the effort. “What are you doing out here, little miss?”
A second later Willow had her answer as Jeff’s loud voice came tumbling out of her house.
“You barely work when you are here, and now you’re teaching my apprentice your lazy habits. Get on out, both of you. I don’t want to see your faces turning up to work again. Since you love moonlighting so much, earn your living doing that and see how far it gets you.”
Jeff’s angry roar was enough for Willow to decide she didn’t need to head indoors just yet. Instead, she carried Mavis through the garden down to the back river and sat cross-legged on the hard ground. Luckily, it hadn’t rained for some time, otherwise, the shadows from the trees lining the banks would leave the field muddy. Not that her hips or knees would appreciate the ground wasn’t soggy when it was time to stand up!
“We don’t need that kind of attitude in our house, do we?” Mavis looked up at Willow with a grave expression, the spiky fur at the tips of her ears making her expression seem quite attentive. “That’s right,” Willow said as though the kitten had answered. “It fills the house with bad energy. No wonder the renovations haven’t been finished with so many miserable vibes in the air.”
She stroked her finger along Mavis’s back until the cat started to lean into the rhythm, purring so loudly Willow didn’t even have to bend down to hear it. “You’re a good kitten, and I know you’d never behave in that way. Imagine yelling at your employees like that, when anyone walking past outside can hear? That’s the sign of bad breeding, Mavis. Thank goodness, that’s something neither you nor me suffer from.”
Even though she was now sitting at least a football field’s length away from the house, Willow still clearly heard her front door being slammed, followed a few seconds later by the revving of a van engine. She turned to the road and kept her eyes peeled.
When Jeff’s vehicle flew past, far too quick for her peaceful street, Willow breathed a sigh of relief and gathered Mavis up into her arms. It took a minute or two to get all the way back to standing, a transition that took longer with each passing year.
“Now that horrid man has gone, let's get back home and decide what to have for dinner. I seem
to remember there’s a nice fish pie in the freezer waiting to be thawed.”
At the word fish, Mavis’s ears flicked out to either side in interest. Although Willow spent a lot of time talking to the kitten, only a few words ever managed to stick. That was one of them.
“And, if I’m in the mood, I might see if there’s another building crew in town who wouldn’t mind finishing up the last touches to the conservatory,” Willow mused on the walk back to the house. “It’ll cost me a lot more money, I’ll be bound, but it might be nice to investigate the options.”
Chapter Three
The next morning, Willow woke to the mutter of voices outside her window. In a panic, she sat bolt upright—no dozing for her today. Not when there could be thieves outside.
In the darkness, it took Willow a second to gather up her wits enough to look at the time. Six-thirty. The usual starting time for the builders. Or, ‘far too early’ as she preferred to call it.
Willow tiptoed over to the window and gazed down at the front gate. Two men were standing there, wearing the familiar builder’s uniform of beige shirt and trousers atop heavy brown work boots. As well as talking in whispered voices, the man stamped their feet to keep out the cold.
Willow pushed up the sash and stuck her head out. “What are you doing out there? Has Jeff lost the key?”
The two men jumped so high Willow almost giggled. Good to see she scared them as much as they did her.
“Jeff ain’t here,” the first one said. Willow couldn’t remember his name but easily recognized the crop of ginger curls on his head. His friend’s name was Steve or Pete or something like that. He had a good few inches on everyone else in Jeff’s crew, hunching over to walk through doorways.
“Is he running late?”
The man shrugged. “We don’t know. Neither one of us heard any different from we’d be working here again today. I don’t even have a mobile to check.”
“Give me a minute. I need to get dressed, then I’ll let you in to use the phone.” Willow pulled her head indoors and closed the window shut, the shiver running down her back not just from the cold.
She got ready as quick as she could and let the men indoors. “Do you have the number? I’ve got his card somewhere around here, if not.”
“I’ve got it,” the ginger-haired man said, quickly dialing and holding the landline receiver to his ear with a cautious look. After a few minutes, he put it down. “He’s not answering.”
“What about his home phone?”
At that, the man shrugged, and his companion shook his head. “We’re not allowed to call him on at home,” the tall man explained. “Jeff says our only contact is business, so the business line is all we use.”
“How ridiculous,” Willow said, stalking toward the kitchen. “Give me a moment, I’ll grab the phone book and see if he’s listed.”
At her statement, the tall man’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline and Willow turned defensive. “What? They still issue them if you ask.” She shook the thin volume in her hand. “I need it. Never got the hang of a computer and I can only use my phone to make a call.”
“Stephen didn’t mean anything by it,” Ginger hair said, giving his friend a glare. “It’ll be worth it if we can find out what’s going on. I’d hate to be docked time just because we turned up at the wrong place.”
“He could be at Shelby’s,” Stephen suggested. “When I was cleaning up here, last night, she dropped by, and I told her where she could find him.” He sighed. “It’d be good if he finally got that sorted.”
“Shelby Causer?” Ginger looked at his companion as though the man had lost his mind. “There’s no way Jeff would dare to go around her place on his own. Unless he called up a police escort at the crack of dawn, I think we can safely rule that out.”
“Who’s Shelby?” Willow asked, fighting to keep Mavis’s claws away from the thin pages of the phone book. When the men didn’t immediately answer, she glanced up in time to see a quick exchange of expressions between them. “What?”
“She’s an old client,” Ginger said.
At the same time, Stephen answered, “Jeff mucked up a building job for her.”
The two men glared at each other so fiercely Willow couldn’t help but smile before turning back to her task.
“Here we go. Jeff Waterman.” This time, Willow dialed, ready to hand the receiver across if he answered. Instead, the phone rang for so long it became obvious no one would pick up. “Another strike-out, I’m afraid.”
“We should go,” Ginger said. “We’ll drive back into town and see if we can spot his van at any of the other building sites.”
“Are you sure?” Although Willow would be grateful to see the back of them right now, it’d be a disaster if they’d moved onto a different building job before they finished with her renovations.
“Sure. We’ll give you a ring when we find Jeff and let you know what’s going on.” Ginger paused halfway to the front door. “You didn’t ask for a new set of builders, did you?”
Willow experienced a pang of guilt because her thoughts have traveled precisely that same path the afternoon before. In the end, she hadn’t costed out the job to any other building firms. One lot was probably as bad as another, she’d reasoned, a position that suited her naturally lazy streak.
“I haven’t discussed anything aside from the original plan,” Willow said. She hesitated for a second, reluctant to bring up what she’d heard the day before, then shook her head. If it were meant to be secret, Jeff wouldn’t have been yelling loud enough for the entire street to hear. “I thought some of your coworkers got fired yesterday, though. Could it be something to do with that?”
“Yeah.” Stephen had a disgusted expression on his face. “The boss fired Charley and Lee just because he pays them so little they had to take on a few extra jobs.”
The stare his friend Ginger was giving him grew increasingly heated.
“Or, it’s nothing to do with that,” Stephen added lamely. “I’m sure other things were involved in the decision.”
“Sorry to have taken up your time, Miss Foxglove,” Ginger said, pushing Stephen toward the exit. “We’ll let you know what’s happening as soon as we find out ourselves.”
When the door shut behind them, Willow felt momentarily lost. Without her morning routine of cursing all the noise from the builders, she couldn’t remember what she was meant to do. Mavis gave a small meow behind her and Willow turned, shooing her toward the kitchen. “Breakfast for you, first, then I’ll sort out something for me.”
As she switched on the kettle and laid out her tea things, Willow thought how nice it was to have the house to herself. It had been so long, she’d quite forgotten what a peaceful morning was like.
Willow jumped to answer the phone when it rang, realizing she’d been waiting with bated breath for it to go since the builders had left.
The news was neither good nor bad.
“We can’t find Mr. Waterman anywhere,” Erik had relayed to Willow after reminding her that he was the ginger-haired builder. “I guess we could come back to your house and continue on with the work he’d already assigned us. Though, I don’t know how that would work out, what with losing Lee and Charley.”
“Why don’t you take the day off,” Willow suggested as an alternative. Much as she disliked Jeff’s behavior yesterday, he was a man who knew how to organize his employees. She couldn’t imagine things going smoothly without his constant judgment and interference to keep things on track.
“If he’s not back tomorrow, I don’t know what we’ll do,” Erik admitted.
“Jeff won’t stay away for that long, no matter the circumstances,” Willow said boldly. “And if he does, then we go with your plan B. I’ve still got the building plans, you can just follow them as you see fit.”
Not likely, Willow thought as she put the phone down, but she didn’t need to tell them that. The part about being sure Jeff would turn up soon was something she believed. If he
didn’t, she’d have to investigate those other building firms and find someone else to complete the task.
“And that’s all I can do,” she explained firmly to Mavis as she took the cat outside, deciding on a leisurely stroll along the river bank for her morning exercise. “If people want to run off halfway through their job, I can’t be held responsible. I have to do what’s best for my business.”
Just saying those words aloud made Willow feel one hundred percent more competent. “Business,” she repeated slowly, walking down to the stream. “I’m a business-woman.”
Mavis was unimpressed with the transformation, instead deciding chasing moths was a pastime more likely to yield results. She took off, bouncing and jumping with far too much energy. If Willow hadn’t seen her do the same before, she might have been fooled into thinking the kitten would wear herself out. She now knew that was an impossibility. Mavis had a constant supply of go-juice.
“Probably comes from sleeping half the day,” Willow mused, wondering if the same result would happen if a human woman tried to do that. She reluctantly decided it wouldn’t, just as she reached the bend in the river that signaled she was crossing into her neighbor Phillip’s territory.
All along the stream, the neighbors had a casual agreement the bank was common property, and nobody needed to ask for permission, or worry about crossing boundaries. Nevertheless, Willow came to a halt. Phillip had seemed very perturbed the last time he’d discussed the renovations with her. He was her closest neighbor and the one who bore the brunt of the noisy builders alongside her.
Perhaps she should leave the walk to another day. One when her property hadn’t been a thorn in the side of the noise police for a good few days at least.
“Where’d you get to, Mavis,” Willow called out in a loud whisper. “Let’s go back and walk the length the other way.”
It would lead her to the same problem soon enough, but by then the morning air would have worked its magic. Mavis’s head bobbed up from a bunch of fallen leaves, neatly raked into a pile.