“As I was saying, what if all these bad things were connected?”
I blinked. Well, I can’t deny that I’d had that thought myself. But I didn’t believe it.
“One small problem. Riz wasn’t killed in Lilbury.”
“Yes, but he was a politician. As was Guy.”
“But I’m not a politician.”
He ate his crumble. “It’s a theory. I think there’s a link.”
I ate more crumble. Mrs Bliss was a talented woman.
“Need to ask Mum who dropped this off and see if we can get more,” Simon said, licking his spoon. I definitely didn’t watch that with my beady little eyes. He was wearing a tan T-shirt today in a muscle fit and a pair of light blue skinny jeans that were so old and faded they were almost white.
And they clung. God, they clung.
“I do have an idea of what we could do …” I said, stirring my ice cream around the bowl so it’d melt faster. Not that it needed much help. I swear it was getting hotter every day. And the dust. The ground was bone dry after so long with no rain. England was a different colour. My runs with Kenny saw me coming back so covered in dust that I was worried I was going to get accosted for doing blackface.
I watched as Simon cocked his head at me like Kenny did when he wanted food. He lifted his arm, and even the sweat stain on his armpit was doing things for me today.
“Tell me.”
I stuttered. “Nigella went to see JedRev yesterday. He’s up for visitors. We should go. It’d be good to get out of the village, and he’s your friend.”
“But he’s not involved.”
“No, maybe not.”
His eyes went wide. “You think he could’ve been a target. Holy hell. I suppose he was known to be mates with Guy. And there are other connections …”
I was about to ask what he meant when the sound of a car nearby set Kenny off barking.
“Now you’re a guard dog?” I asked him as he shot off to the front door and woofed himself stupid at it.
“Hush now, hush!” I told the mad mutt as I followed him to the door. I clapped for Simon’s attention – he’d been staring into space. “Can you?” I gestured to Kenny.
“Yup.” Simon loped over and took Kenny in his arms like he weighed nothing and carried him to the living room.
I opened the door in time to see a car pull up outside. My heart sank. Oh, no, what did they want?
“Good morning, Mr Forrest,” called Neuberger as he surveyed my overgrown garden.
Simon closed the living room door with Kenny inside and came to stand beside me, but I tried to push him back in.
“Morning, detective,” I called and then out the corner of my mouth: “Go upstairs or something. Hide.”
“Why?” asked Simon.
“Do you want them to know you’re here?”
Simon rolled his eyes but sank back into the living room. “You alone?” Neuberger called. “Can we come in?
“Please, do,” I said, ignoring the first question. I scrambled to move Simon’s bowl as they entered a few seconds later. “Sorry, haven’t done the dishes. Place is a tip, do forgive me.”
Neuberger came in and couldn’t hide his disdain. Maslin followed him, looking a bit less displeased.
The DI went towards the living room door, already snooping. “Oh, my dog is in there, please don’t let him out with the front door open.” Maslin had the good sense to close that door. “He’s not good with strangers; it’ll be a racket if he’s out here.” Neuberger narrowed his eyes, still poised for the living room.
