Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“If you went to church, you might not be accused of murder.”
“I’m not accused of murder.” I pursed my lips. “Yet. Technically.”
Ash laughed and put her glass on the coffee table. “We don’t need to solve the murder; we just need to come up with other viable suspects we can put to my brother.”
She’d lost her mind.
“And how on Earth do you propose we do that?”
If I was considering this, so had I.
“You might have forgotten what it’s like living in a small town, but everyone knows everything about everyone else.” There was a knowing, mischievous glint in her eye. “It won’t be hard to find anything out. Everyone is going to be talking about his murder, so we just need to ask the right questions.”
“That’s great,” I said flatly. “But right now, I’m the one who’s most likely to have killed him. Is anyone really going to talk to me about him?”
“Probably. Your grandpa might not have lived here for a few years, but he was a staple of the community. A lot of people hold respect for him and will probably help you out of a sense of loyalty to him.”
“Great. So, it’s a misguided sense of obligation I have to rely on to clear my name.”
“No, stop. Like I said, everyone is going to be talking about Declan, which means this town is going to be renamed Gossip Point for the next week at least. We just have to be in the right places at the right time to hear it.”
“And how exactly are we going to do that?”
“Well, I have a ceramics class for the pensioners every Monday evening,” Ash said with a grin. “Granny comes with her friends, they paint ceramics, drink wine, and talk shit. Actually, they mostly just drink wine and talk shit, but that means those four women know everything about everything, even stuff that isn’t worth knowing.”
“You have a ceramics class?”
She blinked at me. “Oh, shit. Yes. Remember that old art store on the high street?”
I frowned. “The one with all the weird pictures?”
“Yes. Grandpa—Dad’s dad—died a few years ago, and he left all the grandkids some money. Noah used his to buy his house, and I bought the art store. It’s an art and ceramics store, technically, but I run some classes. It’s booming during the summer. It’s amazing how many parents are happy to pay me twenty quid per kid to amuse them for ninety minutes so they can sit on their phones or pee in peace.”
To be honest, that sounded like a pretty great deal.
“Oh. And you do a class just for the older generation?”
She bobbed her head. “Every Monday, and it’s not exactly open to the masses. Heck, they don’t even pay me, but it does mean none of them get on my back about how miserably single I am. Granny does insist on bringing Tofu, and Viv sometimes brings her little dog, but it’s pretty fun.”
“Who or what is a Tofu?”
Ash wrinkled her nose up. “Tofu. Her cat.”
“A cat in a ceramics store? Sounds like a terrible idea,” I said.
“He’s pretty chill. He has a little corner out the back, but he usually sits on the counter and judges us,” she replied. “Anyway, it could be a good place to start. Plus, I’m going to hear a lot with my customers tomorrow. People love to spread stuff around.”
I sighed, running my hand through my hair and fluffing it up. “That’s the problem. People don’t care if what they’re sharing is true or not. And if they did know anything, why not tell the police?”
“Because nobody wants to get involved. It just so happens that I have an inside track.”
“I am not spending any time with your brother.”
“You don’t have to,” she reassured me. “We can gather information, filter out what’s obvious bullshit, and do a bit of snooping into stuff we think might be true. Come to the store at eight tomorrow night. Granny will be happy to see you, anyway.”
I stared at her for a moment. Her gaze was one of steely determination, but there was a glint of excitement in there, too.
Wow.
She was enjoying this.
“You cannot seriously be excited about this,” I said, still staring at her.
“A little bit,” she replied. “I’ve always wanted to be a sleuth.”
“We’re not sleuthing.” My voice was firm. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to see if we can get any information on Declan Tierney, if only to try to clear my name.”
“That’s the spirit, Lottie. Meanwhile, I’ll get Granny to keep her ear to the ground. If there’s anything to find out, she’ll be the one who does.”
CHAPTER NINE
I managed to leave the house before my parents woke up the next morning.
I didn’t want to worry them too much, so I left them a note that said I was going for a run on the beach, and I’d be back soon.