“I’m still not convinced the detectives didn’t take them,” I lean in and hiss. “There is such a thing as corrupt cops, Lil.”
She waves a hand at me and blows air against her top lip. “Don’t be silly. He's too much of a bird brain to pull something off like that. You watch too many detective dramas.”
I can only shrug, because she’s not wrong. I do. Yesterday I never got the impression either Detective was unintelligent, but they’d interviewed me only once. For the entire time I was asleep upstairs, I’m unsure how much time they’d spent with each guest. If I’m honest, I feel completely wrapped up in finding the clues, rather than dealing with the deadly reality that someone may have murdered him.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, scanning the outside of the hotel from the mosaic style window, raising my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. The house was surprisingly quiet.
“The Lake. Merle wanted to show off the brand newlake house. The guys wanted an early morning swim too.” Her posture always becomes tight when she talks about the hotel, and I’d never divulge this, but I suspect Lil has never been ok with her brother's relationship. It has nothing to do with his boyfriend's gender, but more so just Merle as a person.
A dark figure moves behind her from the opposite entrance to the landing, and Cardinal steps out of the shadows before I have a heartache for the second time this morning. In black cotton trousers and a plain black t-shirt, he’s an archangel fallen from grace in comparison to Lil’s white lace romper and my sage sundress. Beard neatly trimmed, hair kept short on the sides andlonger on top, he wears a scowl like it’s an accessory. I can see his sour mood roll off him like steam, but in his hand is a red envelope and rolled up paper that his fist flexes around.
“You found another clue?" I raise my eyebrow.
He grunts. “Yeah in my room. I thought about it last night and it was quite literally staring at me.” The painting of the beech sits across from his bed, on the wall above a desk.
“Well that was handy wasn’t it.” Lil mocks, completely unbothered about the game continuing. “Darling, I'm going for a little nap. Please wake me when the detectives arrive.” As she passes, she gives my shoulder a little squeeze.
“Yes boss.” I salute, catching a small tug at the side of Cardy’s lip.Nearly got him.
“Can I see the clue?”
“Sure. Are you heading down?” He hands over the red envelope but keeps the secret.
Interesting.
I nod for him to go first but he sighs, moving around me so that I have to take a step down before he can. For a caveman, his manners are impeccable. As I peel back the envelope and look over the next clue, I can feel the tension from him bursting as we manoeuvre the stairs.
“I can’t stop worrying about Aya, and Starling wouldn’t tell me shit. I don’t even know if she got home. She might not even know Corbin is dead.” He whispers and I’m just surprised he’s opening up to me of all people.
“Do you think she’d have anything to do with it?” The words are out before I can even grasp what I’ve asked. I’m about to apologise for being insensitive, but Cardinal doesn’t act how I’d expect. There’s no outrage or shock, he just shakes his head as we continue down the stairs till we meet the tiles at the bottom.
“Not Aya. She’s never been good with confrontation and I don’t think she could reach any level of anger to be violent.”
“If she’s not good with confrontation, why was she going to marry him?” That man knew how to push buttons and get what he wanted, all through dominating and large amounts of confrontational conversations. Oh and gas lighting–lots of that.
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve only met him once and she wasn’t even there. He was having a meeting with Father, and as I walked into his office, they both came out. He came across as a total arsehole, we didn’t even know she was dating.” I can see that vein tick in his neck, as he licks at the corner of his lip. “It’s my fault. I’m normally more involved in her life and especially with business, but my family have had me working on other things recently.”
How ominous.
“I found her luggage still in their room. I was looking for the clue, not snooping.” I add, worried he’ll really think I’m Nancy Drew.
We turn through the open doors of the dining room and like each day this weekend, we’re attacked by the sheer drapes that no one seems to be able to pin back. Luckily he holds it back for me, but he gets tangled once the breeze from the lake blows them into his face.
“I don’t care what the detectives said, I’m going to leave.”
I gawk at him. “You can’t! They’ll arrest you for defying orders?” I cringe, my words ending on a question because I actually don’t know if they can do that.
“Defy orders,” he mocks, scoffing at me. “You’re a crime writer, don’t you know? I need to get home to make sure she’s ok.”
“I really don’t think you should leave. Also, I write fiction. I can make Detective Featherton do anything. I could make him arrest someone because the village cafe ran out of beans at peak breakfast time. It’s. Not. Real.” I think back to the minor research I actually did into laws and the legal system beforewriting. Most of what I know comes from other books and television programs; I grew up in the fictional world of Agatha Christie, so my actual real life knowledge on policing is basic at best.
“Great credentials Drew.”
Standing out on the patio, we’re hit with the full south facing sun. The heat stings, so I keep walking towards the steps that will take me to lower ground. Everyone might have been at the lakes this morning, but now they’re perched on furniture at the bottom of the gardens. The rugs are still out here from their make shift stage, along with blankets, scatter cushions of all sizes and Phin I’m guessing has brought out the long sofa from the music room. They’ve already uncorked a fresh bottle of champagne and I catch sight of an empty one laid on the grass. The persian rugs give everything a bohemian vibe, especially with Bran and Jay semi naked, hair wild whilst they both strum guitars casually. Phin lays with his face tilted to the sky, eyes closed but flute full of sparkly liquid. Merle on the other hand sits far away, opposite his brother and notices our approach first.
“What if they suspect you had something to do with it?” I hiss at Cardinal as he starts to walk across the grass.
“If she left her luggage they might have argued–fucking hell, I can't not go make sure she's ok.”
