Gina was getting a picture of Taylor’s role. As a trusted keyholder, she’d be able to come and go as she pleased. Would Mr Braddock come home in the day to be with her while Annabel was delivering trigonometry lessons to teenagers? Had they come up with some intricate plan together to get rid of Annabel? Knowing that his wife was thinking about leaving him could be all he needed to formulate a plan and if Taylor was quite childlike and immature for her age, had she been easy to manipulate into helping him? There were so many questions running through her mind and only Grant and Taylor could answer them. ‘How old is Taylor?’
‘Twenty. It was her birthday last month.’
‘How long has she worked for the Braddocks?’
‘About a year. It’s the longest she’s stuck a job. Before that she worked in a child day care centre but that lasted about three months. She left for her current job. The pay wasn’t brilliant but she said she wanted to look after one child not a room full of them.’
‘Do you know who her boyfriend is?’
‘Never seen him. I guess he’s some layabout like the others. She normally picks boys who laze around all day, scratching their scrotums while playing computer games.’
‘Has she ever mentioned a name?’
‘Grant. That’s his name but she hasn’t told me anymore.’
‘I noticed a car parked on the drive. Does it belong to her?’
‘The Mercedes?’ Sharon raised her eyebrows.
Gina guessed it wasn’t but she had to ask. ‘We know she has a car, where is it?’
‘It’s a right heap. I ask her to park it around the corner. It won’t be there though as she’s not here.’
Gina stepped over to the front door. ‘Can you show me where she would normally park?’ At the very least, she wanted to check to see if there were any dents on it that could suggest that her car mowed Jennifer down.
The woman stepped out onto the drive. Gina and Wyre followed her to the corner and she pointed. ‘See that little parking place at the back of my garden, that’s where she parks. That’s her car, which is odd as she’s not here. Someone must have picked her up.’
Gina hurried over to the small Hyundai and looked at the bonnet and bumper. The car was covered in dirt that hadn’t been disturbed. She peered through the window and saw a photo of Annabel with scribble half-covering her face. As Wyre caught sight of it, she glanced up at Gina. Taylor’s car hadn’t been used to mow Jennifer down but the girl hated Annabel enough to deface a photograph. They needed to find her quick before a bit of vindictive scribble turned into an action that was far more sinister. Another piece of paper caught her attention. Creased at the corner on the back seat, the flyer for Clearview Cabins was in partial view. Luxury retreats at competitive prices. ‘I know where we’re heading next.’
ELEVEN
In the heart of the Evesham countryside sat a farm. On it, a small shop offered home-made jams and chutneys, fresh bread and newly laid eggs straight from the chickens on site.
‘Is this it?’ Wyre peered through the window.
‘This is apparently where the Clearview Cabins are but I can’t see a cabin anywhere.’ As Gina pulled into a space, a woman exited from a side door, trudging in wellies while calling a collie to her side. Her straggly grey hair fell over her waxed jacket. ‘Hello.’ The woman didn’t respond. ‘Hello.’ Gina got out and hurried over the muddy surface, calling the woman. As she turned, the woman let out a shriek and pulled her earphones out.
‘You nearly gave me a heart attack.’
‘Sorry.’ Gina smiled and held her hands up. ‘I’m DI Harte, Cleevesford Police. May we have a word with you?’
The woman checked her watch as Wyre stepped out of the car and joined them. ‘Yes, it’s nearly break time. Come on, Patch.’ The dog followed her back into the rustic shop. The bell rang as they entered. Troughs full of dirty vegetables filled the room and the earthy smell was quite pleasant.
‘What can I do for you?’
‘We’re looking for Clearview Cabins and this is the address we have.’
‘Ah yes, they’re hidden in the woodland for peace and tranquillity. That’s what people come here for. They’re also guaranteed privacy with their own hot tubs. I gather you’ve not come here to book a holiday?’
‘However perfect that all sounds, you are right. We’re looking for someone and we have reason to believe that she is staying here. Can I take your name, please?’
‘Olive Flint. I run the place on my own since losing my husband several years ago. It’s just me and Patch.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘Thank you.’ She grabbed her glasses and put them on. ‘Okay, all the cabins are booked so who is it you’re looking for?’ She opened up a notebook.
‘Taylor Caldwell.’
