Death at Rainbow Cottage, Jo Allen [top 100 books of all time checklist .TXT] 📗

‘I thought you’d say that.’ She frowned at him, in discontent. ‘I had to ask, though. I told Phil I would.’

He spread his hands wide, an attempt at sympathy the only thing he could offer her. ‘I’m not saying I don’t see where you’re coming from. But even if I had a view on it, there’s nothing I could do.’

‘You could talk to Doddsy about it.’

‘And say what?’ Doddsy was Jude’s close friend as well as his colleague, but the inspector was a man who kept his life partitioned, and it was only after he’d met the dangerously attractive Tyrone Garner that there had been any crossover at all. Their friendship was built on an implicit understanding of that, and it wasn’t something Jude was prepared to compromise. ‘No, I’m sorry Tammy. Impossible, as well as inappropriate.’

‘Perhaps I should take it up with Detective Superintendent Scanlon.’

It had taken a week of Faye’s hands-on management to show that her crusade for equality wouldn’t stand for that kind of challenge. ‘I wouldn’t advise it. She’s very politically correct.’ He paused, looking down at the note he’d written for himself about Faye’s equality workshop. No excuses, she’d said. ‘Rightly so.’

Tammy had turned scarlet. ‘Yes. But it’s not about that, is it? It’s about age-appropriate behaviour. That’s what bothers me and Phil. Tyrone’s our son. We care.’ But she was backing away towards the door as if she regretted approaching him.

‘Of course you do. But they’re both old enough to know their own minds. Tyrone’s hardly a vulnerable adult.’

‘Try telling Phil that.’ She shuffled out of the door and snapped it shut behind her.

Left behind in after-hours silence, Jude sighed, shut down his computer and turned his thoughts to Ashleigh and the pub.

Chapter 8

In one of those accidents of timing that can only be the fortunate intervention of the fates, Doddsy arrived at the pub just a few seconds after Becca Reid. It was a cold night and the spring rain had turned briefly to sleet, so that he hadn’t recognised the figure he’d followed down the street and into the bar until she flipped down her hood and paused on the mat to shake off the rain.

Caught in the spray of raindrops, he stepped aside and she, noticing, spun round, already well into an apology. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there. Oh. Hi, Doddsy.’

Her almost-permanent smile had faded to a shadow when she saw him, but he wasn’t so self-centred as to think it was anything to do with him. He liked Becca and was reasonably certain she’d say the same about him, but he was Jude’s best friend. Hardening his heart towards her, as he had done from the moment she’d instigated the split and he’d aligned himself, instantly and unequivocally, beside his friend, Doddsy nevertheless found it in himself to smile. ‘Hi, Becca. We don’t see you about much in here these days.’

‘No, it’s not usually my sort of pub. I—’ She looked over his shoulder with a nervous flick of her hair, then back at him and relaxed. Chris’s laugh, carrying across the bar from round a corner, indicated that most of the group going out for Friday drinks were in situ, but Becca’s lack of panic suggested that Jude wasn’t yet among them.

A quick peek showed Ashleigh, laughing at whatever had amused Chris, a couple of the other detectives from the team, and — an unexpected pleasure —Tyrone. ‘You’re well?’

‘Oh, I’m fine.’ Still she hovered just inside the doorway, neither forging forwards nor beating the retreat. ‘What about you? I heard on the grapevine that you’d had an accident. Are you okay?’

A chill ran down the back of Doddsy’s neck .The last murder case he’d dealt with had nearly taken him with it. Not liking to think of how close he’d come to becoming a homicide statistic, he waved aside a brush with death as easily as if he were on point duty somewhere in town, blessing the local gossip network that would make sure everyone knew everything and he didn’t need to explain himself. ‘Right as—’ He glanced through the door as someone else came in and was relieved to see that it wasn’t Jude. ‘Rain.’

She giggled. You couldn’t keep Becca’s sense of humour down, and even the bad temper that always seemed to surface when Jude was around held a witty, waspish sharpness if you cared to listen for it. ‘Glad to hear it.’ A pause as she looked around to see if there was anyone else there she knew. ‘Meeting anyone?’

He read the subtext there, too. ‘Yes. A few of us are coming down from work.’

‘Oh.’ She looked over his shoulder again, felt in her pocket for her phone, a decision made. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Adam here. Maybe we should go somewhere else. It’s been lovely to see you, though, Doddsy. Stay safe.’ And she shuffled off towards the exit.

She was too late. As she reached the door it opened and Jude appeared, striding in with purpose. He ground to a halt and the two of them did a little shuffle as he shifted aside to let her past. ‘Hi Becca.’

‘Hi Jude.’

‘All fine?’

‘Yes. I was just leaving.’

‘See you around then.’

‘See you.’ Dodging past him, she almost ran out into the rain. Turning to see the conclusion of the scene, Doddsy stared through the window in time to see her intercept the man approaching the door, tuck her arm through his and turn him in one fluid movement so that they were heading across the road and into a different pub.

That was a relief. Turning back again, Doddsy watched the way that Jude chose to play out the ending — by crossing to the table full of his workmates and kissing Ashleigh as if Becca was still in the room to see