The Peridale Cafe Cozy Box Set 4 Page 63

  Riverswick had a single main shopping road, filled with shops and terraced cottages. A large church and pub capped it off at either end, with many side streets snaking off the main road, some leading to secret shopping hideaways, and others breaking off into the wide-open countryside, with small clusters of cottages dotting the landscape. A tall First World War memorial stood proudly in the middle of the road, with the traffic diverging around it on a roundabout. Whereas Peridale could have its quiet days, Riverswick always seemed to be teeming with life, no doubt thanks to its centralised design. Julia pulled up in a car park hidden behind the pub and set off on her quest to find a cottage next to a bookshop.

  What seemed like a simple task at first suddenly became daunting when she realised how many shops had books displayed in their windows. The first, an actual bookshop, had a tea room on one side and a butcher on the other. On the opposite side of the road was a charity shop that had books in the window, but again, had no cottages on either side. Walking further down the road, she kept her eyes peeled, scanning the faces in the street for Bev’s. As she walked further down the street, she realised just how many other streets snaked off; there were just as many cottages and shops down them. Julia checked her watch and didn’t know how much of the afternoon she could waste in her hunt for Bev’s cottage.

  She passed the war memorial and crossed the road. The next shop that had books in the window was a gift shop, although the books were notepads and diaries and not books for reading. Still, there was a cottage next door. Julia knocked on the door, hoping Bev would answer and end her search.

  The door opened; it wasn’t Bev.

  “Yes?” a smiley woman in an apron covered in flour asked, a rolling pin in her hand. “Can I help you?”

  “Does Bev live here?”

  “Bev?” the woman shook her head. “No Bevs here.”

  Apologising for disturbing her, Julia hurried along. She spotted more books in a coffee shop window. Even though they were stacked as a decorative item, they were books all the same. Julia knocked on the door, but this time received no answer. It wasn’t an encouraging sign, but it didn’t confirm anything either way. Instead of giving up, she entered the coffee shop, which had the look of a chain coffee shop but the feel of a family-run business.

  “Do you know if Bev is home?” Julia pointed her thumb at the wall connecting to the cottage, deciding to lead with confidence. “I knocked, but there was no answer.”

  “Bev?” the man behind the counter echoed. “I’m sure she was just in here. One second.” He craned his neck to look through a beaded curtain. “Dave? Was that Bev from next door just in here?”

  “Twenty minutes ago,” Dave called back. “She was asking for a job.”

  “There’s your answer,” the man behind the counter said with a smile. “Can I get you anything else?”

  Julia shook her head and returned to the street. She wondered how many places Bev had visited since quitting her job. If she had started at the top, it made sense for the coffee shop to be the final place she asked before retreating to her cottage, unless she continued down the street to the rest of the businesses. Remembering that Bev had experience working in a coffee shop, she concluded that the coffee shop next to her house might have been the only place she’d asked for a job, in which case, she would be at home.

  Julia knocked again, louder this time. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Julia stood and waited quietly. When nothing stirred within, she walked over to the low front window. Net curtains clouded her vision, but the inside curtains were open. Julia cupped her hands to see if she could see any movement. She couldn’t, but she saw a figure sitting in an armchair. She knocked on the window, but the figure didn’t move. She knocked again, loud enough to wake Bev up if she was asleep—but how deep a sleep could she have entered in the twenty minutes since she left the coffee shop?

  “Bev?” she called as she knocked on the glass. “Bev? Are you okay?”

  Bev didn’t stir, so Julia didn’t waste another second. She burst into the coffee shop.

  “I need help!” she cried. “I think something’s wrong with Bev.”

  The man behind the counter hurried around and joined Julia outside. He looked through the window and did his own round of knocking and shouting. When Bev didn’t move, the man didn’t hesitate in taking his foot to the door. One sharp kick burst the old cottage’s lock. Gasps danced around Julia as people gathered to see what was happening.

  Pushing past the barista, Julia ran into the small cottage and straight into the sitting room. Bottle of pills in hand, Bev was sunken in her armchair, head lolling to the side and eyes shut.

  “What the—” the man started. “She was just in the coffee shop! This can’t be right!”

  “You need to make her empty her stomach!” Julia ordered as she pulled out her phone with shaky fingers. “Do whatever you need to do! I’m going to call an ambulance.”

  Turning away as the barista opened Bev’s mouth, Julia clenched her eyes shut and requested an ambulance. The operator told her one was two minutes away and would be sent right over. Bev retched in the background, letting Julia know there might be a chance of saving her. When the sirens blared outside, the operator hung up, leaving Julia and the barista to step aside. Julia bit one of her fingernails as she watched the paramedics work.

  A soft meow came from behind her, making Julia turn around. A tiny white cat with tabby markings jumped onto the dining table. It meowed again and sat on the table edge next to a handwritten note. Julia’s heart stopped when she realised what it was. Careful not to touch it, she leaned in and read the scrawled handwriting:

  I cannot live on this world anymore without my precious Tony. I thought killing him would fix everything, but it made me realise how much I loved him. I made a mistake. I am sorry. I’m going to join my precious Tony in the afterlife. This is for the best.

  The note looked like it had been written in a hurry, but Julia didn’t think for a moment it had been written by Bev. She’d heard the phrase ‘my precious Tony’ before, and it had only left one person’s lips.

  Turning back to the paramedics as they strapped Bev to a stretcher, she willed her to pull through as her phone rang against her ear.

  “Christie? It’s Julia.”

  “Julia?” he called down the phone, his voice echoing as though she was on a loudspeaker. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at Bev’s cottage. It looks like she’s taken an overdose.”

  “Suicide?”

  “That’s how it would appear.” Julia glanced at the note again. “Where does Camila live?”

  “Julia, you know I can’t—”

  “Christie! Tell me where Camila lives!”

  “Stay where you are,” he barked. “I’m driving back to the village now, but the traffic is murder! You were right. It wasn’t Bev. Forensics have just found something on Tony’s computer. An internet search. He tried to delete it, but nothing really deletes on a computer.”

  “An internet search?”

  “The day after he accepted the offer to judge the bake-off, he was looking up some strange things.”

  “How strange?”

  “He wanted to know how many peanuts would harm but not kill someone with an allergy if they were immediately administered with an EpiPen,” Christie called over the sound of a honking horn. “Listen, I think it was a stitch-up gone wrong. I think Tony wanted to create a situation where he could sue the organisers for a lot of money. He was looking at articles from similar cases. The man was in a lot of debt.”

  “Camila was supposed to have the EpiPen in her bag,” Julia said. “Christie, are you going to tell me where she lives?”

  “Julia, you know I—”

  Julia hung up and tossed her phone into her bag. She hurried over to Bev as the paramedics picked up the stretcher to carry her out to the ambulance.

  “Is she alive?” Julia asked.

  “Just,” one of the paramedics said. “Do you know how many pi
lls she might have taken?”

  “No.” Julia shook her head. “And she didn’t take them. Not willingly, at least. This is an attempted murder. If she comes around at any moment, ask her who it was.”

  Looking confused, the paramedics nodded as they carted Bev out. Leaving the barista shell-shocked in Bev’s sitting room, Julia jogged back to her car at the top of the street. If Christie wasn’t going to tell her where Camila lived, she would find out for herself, and there was only one person left to ask.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For the second time in a day, Julia found herself at the Fern Moore estate, but this time, she drove right up to the car park in front of the courtyard. She didn’t have time to be extra safe. If she hadn’t taken such precautions last time, she might have ended up at Bev’s cottage before Camila had a chance to force pills down her throat. Jumping out her car in her pink peacoat, she dared anyone to try confronting her, considering the mood she was in.

  Luckily for Julia, no gangs lurked, leaving her to make her way easily up to Addie’s flat. Before she reached the front door, her phone rang in her pocket. It was an unknown number, which gave her a glimmer of hope.

  “Julia?” a familiar voice called through the phone. “I’ve just got back and seen your note. Is everything okay?”

  “I’m outside your front door. Come out, and I’ll explain everything.”

  Julia hung up, relieved that she finally had a key to finding Camila’s whereabouts. She waited impatiently while Oliver unlocked the inside door and then the gate. His face was red, and his hair drenched with sweat. He wore a tight sports t-shirt, which hugged his slender frame, and matching tight leggings poking out under a pair of baggier shorts. A pair of white earbud headphones were pulled through the top of his shirt, resting against his chest.

  “Oh.” Oliver laughed. “I’ve just been for a run. Helps keep me sane. What’s going on? I tried to ask Addie, but she doesn’t even remember you coming around. She has good days and bad days.”

  “That’s why I left the note,” Julia said, her voice low. “I didn’t want to risk you not getting back to me. I’ve been running around all morning trying to find out where Camila lives, and now it’s more important than ever.”

  “Camila?” Oliver replied with a confused look. “She lives in Riverswick.”

  “I’ve just come from Riverswick.” Julia exhaled and grabbed at her hair. “I’ve just been at Bev’s cottage on the main road. She—she’s on her way to hospital.”

  “Bev?” Oliver frowned. “What’s happened? Is she all right?”

  “I don’t know.” Julia’s heart fluttered in her chest. “I hope so. I think Camila just tried to murder Bev and frame her for Tony’s murder all at once. What’s her address?”

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Not the street name or house number, but I know which house it is. I could point it out to you.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that.” Julia grabbed both of Oliver’s arms and looked him dead in the eye. “It could be dangerous.”

  “If it’s dangerous, why are you running towards it?”

  “Because I need to know the truth.” Julia sighed heavily and dropped her head. “I’ve come this far, and I need answers.”

  “And you don’t think I want answers, too?” Oliver pulled himself away from Julia. “I worked for those people for a year, and I watched one of them die. I’m coming with you. Give me ten seconds. I need to explain to Addie that I’m going out again.”

  Feeling uneasy about involving a kid in her silly game of cat and mouse, Julia stepped back and leaned against the balcony. She rubbed her forehead before checking her phone. To her surprise, no one had tried to call or text her, which meant Christie was too busy to let Barker know what she was doing. She thought about texting Barker a lie so he didn’t worry, but she immediately dismissed the idea. As it stood, she hadn’t lied to him yet. She’d told him she was leaving the cottage to help Dot at the village hall, and that’s what she had done before the afternoon escaped her.

  Oliver hurried out of the flat, now with a burgundy hoodie over his running gear. He locked the door and gate behind him before they hurried to Julia’s car. As she reversed away, she spotted a gang of teenage boys. She couldn’t be sure that they were the group who had mugged her, but it looked a lot like them, not that it mattered at that moment; she had bigger fish to fry than her missing possessions.

  She got all the way to the bridge over the river that signalled they were entering Riverswick before Oliver began his directions. Instead of heading to the part of town where Julia had just been, they headed further west, to the large detached houses with huge plots of their own land.

  “It’s just up here.” Oliver pointed. “It’s the last one on the right.”

  Julia pulled up outside the large detached cottage, which looked more modern than most in the small Cotswold villages. It had perfectly neat green hedges and a white gravel driveway leading up to a grand red door centred between two large windows. Its square structure, lack of traditional golden Cotswold stone, and perfectly straight roof hinted that it hadn’t been there a century ago.

  “You have to wait here,” Julia ordered as she opened her door.

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Julia insisted. “I’m not letting you walk into this. You’re a kid, Oliver. You have your whole life ahead of you. If I’m not out in ten minutes, call the police, okay?”

  “Be careful, yeah?” he said as he gave her a quick smile.

  “I always am.” Julia climbed out and slammed the door. “Ten minutes.”

  Leaving Oliver on watch, Julia strode up to the front door. She hadn’t had much time to compile her evidence, but the suicide note and the revelation that Tony had wanted to be fed peanuts at the bake-off was all she needed. Camila might have been a good actress, but there was no way she wouldn’t crack when Julia dropped those bombshells.

  After ringing the doorbell, Julia turned back to Oliver. She gave him a wave, and he returned it. If time hadn’t been against them, Julia would have driven Oliver back home now that she knew where Camila lived.

  Heels clicked along wood flooring, signalling that Julia’s time had come. She straightened up and tucked her curls behind her ears. The door swung open, and, as she’d hoped, Camila finally stood before her.

  “Oh, hello,” Camila said as she put an earring in. “Julie, isn’t it?”

  “Julia,” she corrected her for the first time. “Can I come in? You’ve been a difficult woman to track down.”

  Without waiting for Camila to answer, Julia strode deep enough down the hallway to put distance between them. While Camila closed the door, Julia looked around. The cottage was beautiful, but it missed a homely touch. The walls were completely bare, and the little furniture there was scattered around; it felt like a show home.

  “Is now a bad time?” Julia asked, walking into the sitting room, which was just as bare as the hallway.

  “Well, yes, actually.” Camila followed Julia in as she put a matching earring in the other side. “It’s my birthday. I wasn’t going to celebrate, but my friends made me promise I would at least go and eat with them. It’s the last thing I want to do, but I know they only want to help since my precious Tony isn’t here to celebrate with me.”

  “Ah, yes.” Julia nodded, glancing into the dining room, which was completely empty aside from a bare bookcase. “Your precious Tony. So precious that you had him followed by a private investigator.”

  “How—I—”

  “Nigel Bell?” Julia interrupted. “Don’t try to deny it. I know.”

  Camila glared at Julia from the doorway of the sitting room. She had a look in her eye that made Julia feel like a scurrying spider invading her space. A quick glance out the window at her aqua blue car centred her.

  “I confess!” Camila held her hands up. “Yes, I had Tony followed. I wanted to be sure.”

  “That he was cheating on you?�
��

  “That he wasn’t cheating on me.” Camila snapped. “What wife wants their husband to cheat on them?”

  “One looking for a motive for murder.”

  Julia let the words linger in the air. Camila’s eyes widened, and her lips parted, but she seemed at a loss for words. It wasn’t the reaction Julia had expected, but it was a reaction, nonetheless.

  “I know about Tony’s nutty idea, if you’ll pardon the pun, to contaminate a cake at the bake-off so he could sue them. Looking around, it’s obvious you were having money troubles.”

  “This is true.” Camila nodded, her arms folding across her chest as she looked around the bare room. “One by one, Tony sold our precious things to pay the bills. He said it would be better to live in an empty house as beautiful as this than move somewhere beneath us with all this stuff, but now that’s he’s gone, I know neither is true. I would live anywhere with my precious Tony if it meant he could come back to me.”

  “So, you knew about his plan to ruin the bake-off?”

  Camila’s eyes narrowed on Julia, but she eventually nodded.

  “I told him he was crazy!” she cried, tossing her arms out. “It wasn’t worth it. I talked him out of it. He promised he wouldn’t do it.”

  “And yet, he did.” Julia walked a couple steps across the empty sitting room, so there was nothing between them but the single black leather sofa in the middle of the room. “And you were supposed to rush in with his EpiPen to save the day. It didn’t matter that he’d had to go through that because it meant he could sue, and he’d probably get a lot of money for it. Allergies like that are very serious.”

  “I think you should leave!” Camila cried, pointing to the hallway. “How dare you!”

  “Give it up, Camila.” Julia pulled the pictures of the PI out of her bag. “It all makes sense now. You had Tony followed, found out about his cheating, and used his crazy scheme against him. You were supposed to have the EpiPen, but you hid it under the coats so no one would find it in time to save him. Bev turning up was the icing on the cake. It meant you could frame her, but it didn’t work, did it? That’s why you went to her cottage this afternoon and forced pills down her throat. You wrote that suicide note thinking it would clear your name, but you only made things worse for yourself! My precious Tony? You might as well have signed your name at the bottom!”