Body in the Woods (A Reverend Annabelle Dixon Cozy Mystery Book 3) (15 page)

“What is it?” he asked curtly.

“I see you’re still entrenched in your bad mood as firmly as you are in this case, Inspector.”

Nicholls sighed deeply, and Annabelle took the Inspector’s lack of words as an invitation to sit across the desk from him.

“Not for long,” the Inspector growled as he tossed aside the document and pulled another from the tall pile beside him. “If I don’t find anything substantial today, I’m going to close this case. I’ve got more important things to attend to back in Truro.”

“You can’t be serious!?” Annabelle burst. “This is a murder!”

“Nearly twenty years old. The trail is too cold at this point to make meaningful progress, let alone solve the case, close it, and secure a conviction.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

Again, DI Nicholls sighed deeply, as if too tired to expend the effort of explaining himself.

“Look, Reverend. A young, pretty girl found dead in the woods is the kind of case that you’ll find up and down the country, across the world, I daresay. It only takes one passing madman, the wrong kind of meeting with a lunatic in a quiet area. It’s not nice, and it’s not something you come across frequently out here among your tea shops and village fêtes, but it happens. There’s nothing here. If there were, we’d have found it by now.”

Annabelle knit her brow, gravely disappointed with the Inspector, and pushed aside the recent idea that he may not be as pure of heart as she had thought. She couldn’t fully convince herself that the Inspector was indulging in such devilish behavior as chasing a married woman like Harper Jones. However, confronted with the brutal dismissiveness of his current thinking, she found herself wondering more and more.

“Before you drop this case, Inspector, I must make a strong request.”

A raised eyebrow was Nicholls’ only response.

“The allotment shed,” Annabelle said, raising her hand to stop the Inspector speaking when he immediately began shaking his head. “I have found out rather a lot in the past couple of days regarding Lucy’s life at the time of her disappearance, and I believe that whoever is responsible for this terrible deed may be closer than your ‘random lunatic’.”

“Okay, Reverend,” the Inspector said after a moment’s thought. “You have two minutes to persuade me.”

Annabelle breathed deeply, placed her hands on the table, and began eagerly. She told the Inspector everything, from the unfulfilled desire Louisa and Daniel had had for one another, to the acrimonious relationship between Lucy and her sister. She even told him of the strange behavior Daniel had exhibited when she had spoken to him, and the rush with which Louisa had made her way to her allotment. Her story took far longer than two minutes, but the Inspector listened intently, possibly due to the fact he and his police team had uncovered very little of what Annabelle had managed to on her own. She spoke sincerely and passionately, putting all her charm and persuasiveness to work in order to get through the Inspector’s tough shell.

“...if there is a secret yet to be discovered, a clue, then it has to lie with Louisa, and thus, the best chance we have of finding it is in that shed,” Annabelle concluded, her eyes fixed upon the Inspector as she waited for his reaction.

He scratched his head for half a minute, sighed, and looked around his desk at the mess of paperwork he had sifted through, as he considered all of the Reverend’s points.

“Okay,” he muttered, eventually. “This case is a dead end anyway. But if there’s nothing in the shed, Reverend, don’t expect me to take your opinion seriously ever again. You’re putting my trust in you on the line, here.”

Annabelle nodded, her lips closed tightly for fear of changing the Inspector’s mind once again.

Nicholls stood up, and walked to the door of his office.

“Where’s Raven?” he shouted.

“He’s just gone out,” called Constable Colback, a slight tremor in his voice.

“The lazy so-and-so… You’ll have to do the paperwork yourself then, Colback.”

Colback mumbled for a few moments before managing to articulate himself more clearly.

“What paperwork’s that, Chief?”

Nicholls emitted a sigh that was almost belligerent this time. “The search warrant on Louisa Montgomery’s allotment! Do keep up, Colback!”

After increasingly exasperated calls from the Inspector, Colback had pulled in every favor with the Truro station he could to have the Inspector’s search warrant ready in double-quick time. When it was ready, Detective Inspector Nicholls snatched it out of the young officer’s hand with a glare and set off for his car. With Annabelle in the passenger’s seat offering him directions to the allotment, the Inspector drove with the same quick temper and aggression that he had maintained since he arrived in the village. It was an experience that Annabelle, who prided herself on her exceptional driving skills and her respect for the speed limit, found deeply disturbing.

“Who examined the body, by the way?” Annabelle asked innocently after they’d arrived at their destination and she’d caught her breath.

“Harper,” grunted the Inspector, “and some big shot from London.”

Annabelle nodded.

“Harper’s rather nice, isn’t she?”

“She’s a professional. Doesn’t mess around. That’s what I like,” answered the Inspector, shooting her a glance.

“She’s married, is she not?”

At this, the Inspector growled roughly. “Why would I care?” Then, under his breath, “Marriage is for fools. Pointless piece of paper that no one should pay any attention to.”

Try as she might, Annabelle couldn’t hide the concerned frown that emerged on her face. Suddenly all manner of dots connected up in her mind. Could the Inspector really be involved in a love triangle? With Harper and her husband!

They reached the allotments and got out of the car, the Inspector slamming his door so hard that Annabelle shrieked a little at the sound. Carefully avoiding the nettles that had so pained her during her previous visit, she and the Inspector traipsed up the path that she had watched Louisa walk days earlier.

“It’s just over here, Inspector.”

“Hmph.”

“Oh dear,” Annabelle said, as she reached the shed door. “I completely forgot that the shed was locked when she—”

She turned around to address the Inspector just in time to see him retrieve a menacing-looking crowbar from his long coat and snap the locks apart as if they were made of flimsy plastic.

“Good thinking, Inspector.”

“Police procedure, Reverend.”

They exchanged a look to confirm their preparedness for whatever lay behind the shed door before DI Nicholls reached out and opened it carefully, peering into the gap as if something might leap out and attack him. When he had opened it enough to be sure nothing dangerous lay inside, he yanked the door open fully.  Annabelle quickly followed him inside.

Nicholls cast his eyes over the sacks of soil, the dusty tools that lay haphazardly on the table, and the extensive range of other equipment piled up along the shed’s walls. Dust motes floated in the slivers of light that pierced the gloom, the air filled with an aroma that could only be called “eau de gardening.”

“Looks like we hit the jackpot,” he muttered, in a tone unmistakably sarcastic.

“We certainly might have,” Annabelle responded, as she brushed past the Inspector to the far end of the shed.

After pulling aside some brooms and a worn-looking stool, she looked over her shoulder at the Inspector.

“It’s a cabinet?” he asked, frowning. “So what?”

Annabelle found the handles, and in a slow, steady gesture, pulled open the doors.

“Gosh!”

“Jesus Christ!”

Hanging in front of them, inside the cabinet among the dirty, old tools and gardening paraphernalia, was an elegant and striking wedding dress. The delicate white fabric seemed to glow in the murkiness and the intricate embroidery made everything in the shed seem even older and dirtier than it was.

They were both shocked to find this alien object in the most unlikely of places but the Inspector was the first one to come to his senses. He stepped toward the cabinet and pulled at a large suitcase which rested at its foot. After fiddling with the clasps he yanked it open.

“This is ever so strange,” Annabelle muttered, as the Inspector foraged among clothes and toiletries that were obviously rather dated.

Something drew Annabelle’s eye to the side of the cabinet. She carefully reached in to pull it out. It was a shoebox, but when she picked it up the weight seemed rather light for a pair of shoes. The Inspector stood beside her as she slowly lifted the lid. It was packed with yellowed tissue paper and she rustled around to pick out what was packed inside.

“Jewelry,” muttered the Inspector.

“Wedding bands, and a necklace to be precise,” replied Annabelle.

“Junk, to be even more precise,” the Inspector retorted, “but incriminating junk, nonetheless.”

Annabelle frowned as she dropped the solitaire diamond necklace back into the box.

“Inspector! Please don’t allow your personal issues to cloud this!”

The Inspector looked back at Annabelle with almost angry disdain.

“My personal issues? What do you know of my personal issues!?”

“I know that they’ve become incredibly disruptive! As does anyone who has had the displeasure of being in your presence recently!”

The Inspector’s hands went to his hips and he glowered at the Reverend.

“My personal issues are just that, Reverend – personal! Don’t mistake me for a member of your flock, Vicar. I’m not looking for advice or guidance.”

“Well, I should think not, Inspector,” Annabelle said haughtily, taking a stance just as adamant. “You shouldn’t need me to tell you that what you are doing is wrong!”

The Inspector’s face seemed to redden even further.

“Wrong? How can… Who are… I am… I am not wrong! She belongs with me!”

“Harper is married, Inspector! She belongs with her husband!”

“What are y—”

“To think a grown man of your age, an Inspector in the police force, no less, would be chasing a married woman in such an impertinent, insolent manner is frankly shameful, Inspector!”

“Rever—”

“And it’s no surprise to me, that regarding the circumstances of this case, you are struggling to see reason. You are acting quite disgracefully!”

“Are you quite finished, Reverend?”

Annabelle raised her chin and snorted dismissively.

“Let me put you clearly in the picture, Vicar. You have got the wrong end of the proverbial stick. I am not, as you so enthusiastically put it, ‘chasing a married woman.’ Least of all, Harper.”

“The evidence—”

“The ‘evidence’,” interrupted the Inspector, crossly, “that you have gathered is clearly faulty, because the only ‘female’ I’ve been fighting over recently is a prize bitch.”

Annabelle dropped the box of jewelry and gasped in horror. Her hand flew to her mouth.

“My Labrador by the name of ‘Lulu,’ to be precise. A former Crufts winner I took ownership of thirteen years ago and who has been my best friend ever since. My ex-wife is currently claiming that the dog belongs to her and has reopened our divorce settlement, despite it being two years old. She wants to gain custody of her.”

Annabelle dropped her hand and began blushing so furiously that the Inspector wondered if her cheeks would explode. She looked at the ground and placed her hands on her hot face as if to cool it.

“I’m terribly sorry, Inspector. I heard you on the phone and I thought… I… I’ve made an utter and complete fool of myself.”

“Hmph,” the Inspector stared at her, his arms folded across his chest.

They stood there for a moment in the dark, the wedding dress hanging behind them, the jewelry at their feet, before the Inspector sighed dejectedly.

“It’s okay. So long as you don’t mention it outside this shed, I won’t either. You’re allowed a mistake after finding this,” he said, gesturing to the uncommon haul they’d discovered in the shed.

Annabelle nodded shamefacedly, brushing her cheeks to soothe her embarrassment. She was mortified.

“What is this?!” came a shrieking voice from beyond the shed door.

Annabelle and the Inspector spun around to see the beige figure of Louisa, her carpet bag dropped to the ground, clutching her face in horror.

“We had reason to believe that you were hiding evidence, Miss Montgomery,” said the Inspector, stepping toward her with the search warrant in hand. “Do you mind explaining what all this is?”

“This,” Louisa spat, her voice filled with spiteful anger, “is Lucy’s. I’ve been keeping it since she disappeared, and you have no right to go through it!”

She pushed past the Inspector into the shed and began rearranging the items within the suitcase. Annabelle glanced from Louisa, to the wedding dress, then back to the Inspector, who raised his eyebrows and gestured for the Reverend to join him outside, leaving the appalled teacher in peace.

When they had walked a few steps away, out of earshot, Annabelle clasped the Inspector’s arm.

“What do you make of this, Inspector?”

“Well, Lucy was obviously ready for a wedding, and a quick one too, judging by the suitcase. Now, that leaves me with two lines of inquiry. Either she was planning to get married to Daniel or somebody else. Either way, he should have known something about it. The fact that he didn’t mention anything about that to you is a pretty clear indicator that he’s hiding something.”