“Tom!” she said. “Stand down. These two weren’t involved. Well, not with the body.”
“Body?” Griffin said. “What body?”
“You too!” Amelia said to the brothers. “Rifles down! I’ve had quite enough of guns aimed in my direction today. One of you go and check on Duncan, would you?”
Tom gazed at her in astonishment. Even she was a little surprised at her boldness. It was almost an out-of-body experience, this resolve she suddenly had to take charge. But she was sick of being pushed around. Sick of being the victim, the scared one. “I think I can shed some light on what’s going on here,” she explained, looking at the Pritchards. “What these two were doing in the abbey—and it wasn’t anything to do with your grandfather’s body, Tom.”
Tom warily placed the gun on the floor and took off his coat.
“His granddad’s body?” Rhys said. “The bloke who disappeared years ago?”
“Lie down, mate,” Tom said to Connor, who was fighting to sit up. “Relax.” He dropped to his knees beside Connor, covering him to mid-chest with the coat. “Can I take over?” he said to Amelia. She shuffled aside. Tom was ex-military—he would know first aid for bullet wounds. She carefully transferred her very bloody coat to him.
“Dad,” Connor said weakly, reaching out.
“He’s okay.” Tom lifted Amelia’s coat for a second to look at the wound, and rolled Connor slightly to check his back. “Just knocked out.”
“How bad is it, Tom?” Connor said. “Hurts like a bitch.”
“Looks like it’s gone through your shoulder. You’ll be okay.” Tom’s voice strained as he lifted Connor and rearranged the coat to cover both wounds. “I’ve got you, mate.” Amelia could hear several layers of emotion in Tom’s voice.
“Who the hell are you, anyway?” Griffin said to Amelia, warily putting down his rifle, and gesturing at his brother to do the same.
“I’m Tom’s … houseguest.”
Tom raised his eyebrows. “Houseguest?”
“Rhys and Griffin were looking for something,” she explained, “and I think I know what it was.”
In the distance, multiple sirens wailed.
“Someone called the police?” Tom said.
“Well, Rhys did, but ages ago,” said Griffin, kneeling before Duncan and checking his pulse. “Like, yesterday. We told the sergeant we’d heard gunshots and a big crash and your phone was off and your house was deserted and we couldn’t find you, but she laughed and asked if we’d been into the … salmonella juice? She said you were just tripping!”
“You came after us with guns!” Amelia said.
“Hang on now, we only went and got the guns because we were freaked out by all the gunshots and couldn’t find you. And you were the ones firing at us!”
“What?” Tom said. “When?”
“Last night! When Bungo took off, and we were trying to find him. You were taking potshots at us in the woods. It was bloody scary!”
Tom groaned. “I thought it was you guys shooting at us. Must have been Duncan, thinking you were us.”
“You tried to break into our house! And you stole our bloody quad bike and crashed it!” Rhys said. He took off his coat and bunched it up under Duncan’s head, as Griffin moved the man into recovery position. “We were worried about you. We didn’t know what the bejesus was going on—still don’t. We heard gunshots again just now, and the air raid siren started up, so we thought we’d better come back. We tried the sergeant again but didn’t get an answer.”
Connor weakly raised his hand. “I told Xanthe to call the police, as soon as she got into coverage.”
“But we heard you talking to her,” Amelia said. “You told her what Duncan said to say—that Tom and I had wandered off.”
“That was just because I figured Dad was listening. I took her out of earshot and told her what was really happening, and to get the police here. I honestly never thought he’d try to… I was calling his bluff. I’m so sorry, Tom. I’ve mucked so much up. I helped bury your grandfather, and then I saw you carry the load—not knowing what happened to him, thinking it was your fault. I’m sick of the guilt. I don’t care if I lose everything. I mean, I care, but… Turns out most of it wasn’t mine in the first place. I just… Whatever happens to me, will you look after Xanthe and the baby?”
“Shh,” Tom said. “Of course I will. She’s family.”
“No,” came a feeble voice. Amelia gasped. Duncan’s eyes were open, and Griffin was dabbing a cut on his scalp. He looked near dead. “I’ll go to jail, whatever, but you need to deny knowing anything about it, son. Tom’ll back you up, won’t you Tom?”
“Dad, no,” Connor said, straining to turn. “We need to tell the truth. All of it.” He looked up at Tom. “There was never going to be a good outcome, was there? It’s a bloody mess.”
