Death on the Coast, M Comley [book club books TXT] 📗

killed Angie, but I have a pretty good idea, and if you want to know my theory, I suggest you buy copies of the Journal over the coming weeks. Everything I have to say will be in there. Oh, and Brendon and I are not an item, never have been and never will be. I think that takes care of the big questions. I’m sure you’ll be able to fill in the little snotty things on your own. Thank you!”

Lucy dropped into her seat and Sal brought her coffee and muffin. Every mouth in the room was open, and there was silence, each mind probably working overtime, trying to figure out what had just happened. Sal stood there a few seconds, looked around, and then unexpectedly applauded.

“Good for you, Lucy!” she commended.

One by one, the others in the bakery added their clapping, which Lucy acknowledged with a nod.

Sal sat at the table with her and leaned in. “My God, that was brave.”

“Not really. Just setting the record straight. I’m sure they’ve just acquired fresh fuel, but at least I was the one at the pump. Now then, Sal. I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me over the past few weeks. You’re a true friend, and one day, I will find a way to be that kind of friend to you.”

“Aww.” Sal blushed. “No need. Nothing anyone in this room wouldn’t have done.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, neither am I. I’ve never seen a bunch of tongues wag so bitterly about someone who is one of their own.”

“Yes, I get it, and truth be told, I was probably one of them myself at some point or another. When this is over, I’m going to write that book I’ve been mulling over for years.”

“Good for you! It’s about time!”

“So, Sal, you wouldn’t have any idea where this Greg Dewhurst is, would you? Any of your contacts who might know?”

“Doesn’t Brendon?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Sal’s head went to one side. “Wait just a minute. What’s up between you and Brendon? I heard what you said in your little speech to stop the gossips, but this is you and me now. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Lucy…”

“I’m serious, nothing. That’s just the point.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

“No one said you were, but obviously something happened because your tone when you say his name is filled with hurt. Cough it up.” Sal tapped the spoon lightly, indicating she was waiting for Lucy to spill the beans.

Lucy grabbed the length of her hair and twisted it into a bun, as though mentally clearing out the old and preparing for the new, businesslike Lucy to take over.

“He’s been shutting me out of this investigation. Won’t talk about it, won’t answer questions, and actually sent me packing so I’m not supposed to go near the precinct.”

“Well, honey, that is his right, you know. Lord knows you’ve been a target, and he’s looking after you.”

“No, that’s not all. Yesterday, I stopped by the precinct to talk to him, and his receptionist told me he’d be right back, to have a seat in the breakroom. So, I did. He came back all right, and guess who was practically draped over his arm.”

“Who?”

“Kathy Simpson!”

It was a full second before Sal burst out laughing so loudly that the others all turned to check them out.

“Would you mind sharing what is so very funny about that?” Lucy bristled, perplexed as to why Sal was laughing.

“Kathy Simpson? Your friend, Kathy Simpson?”

“Is there another?”

“Oh, Lucy, you can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am, Sal. Deadly serious, In fact, I left before they saw me, and the receptionist said not to run off, that Kathy seldom stayed more than just a few minutes. So, she goes in there a lot!”

Sal’s hand covered Lucy’s, patting it. “I’m going to ask you a question. Did it ever occur to you that maybe they know one another, that it’s not a romantic friendship?”

“They looked pretty chummy to me,” Lucy grumbled, her heart pounding more than she thought it should.

“I’ll bet. Like hugging close?”

Lucy pouted. “At least.”

“What would you say if I told you that Brendon and Kathy are cousins?”

Slowly, Lucy’s eyes opened and swung toward Sal’s nodding head. “Cousins?”

“They sure are, sweetie. Brendon’s father is brother to Kathy’s mother. Something fell out between them years ago, and they don’t speak, which is why the kinship is never mentioned. Brendon says it’s his father’s problem and he’s always cordial to Kathy. They go out to lunch sometimes, or she might invite him over to dinner. But, believe me, they’re first cousins. You have nothing to worry about.”

Lucy expelled her lungful of air in a sigh of relief. “Oh, I am embarrassed now. I had no idea. Why did neither of them ever mention it?”

Sal shrugged. “My guess would be because it would cause more trouble between their parents. Now then, don’t go throwin’ yourself on him quite yet. You’re still a married woman.”

“Don’t remind me,” Lucy grumbled, but inside she was secretly celebrating. Brendon isn’t untrustworthy after all.

“To answer your first question, no, I don’t know where Dewhurst, or whoever he is, might be at this moment, but I will put the word around, if you want me to. I doubt he’s still in the village—nothing left for him here.”

Lucy nodded idly, thinking. “Sal, again, thanks a million. See you later.”

Lucy left the bakery, and the sun bathed her in its warmth. She looked toward the east where she could easily see its reflection in the sea sweeping into the town’s harbor. She really did love her village and hoped that the divorce wouldn’t require her to sell her house or move away.

She headed back to Jon’s; en route, she paused in her own driveway. With a deep breath, she went inside her house, leaving the door open so the bad spirits would move on. She was on a mission, she went from room to room, placing Mark’s belongings into a series of black contractor’s plastic bags. His