Page 29 of Secrets of the Forgotten Heir
‘I don’t think we should assume the murderer was one of the partygoers,’ the coroner said as he examined the body. ‘This happened recently.’
‘How recently?’ Yanni asked.
‘An hour ago, tops. He’s still warm.’
A chill ran down my spine: we must have just missed the killer! At least we didn’t have to bag up all the glasses and bottles for fingerprint testing, though. That would have taken hours.
‘We need to find out who had an axe to grind with MrStorcrest,’ Dove commented.
My pulse rocketed as a thought occurred to me and I turned to Yanni in panic. ‘You can’t be considering that Mrs D did this!’ I said firmly.
‘All I’m interested in is what the evidence tells us,’ Yanni said. ‘And right now, we know that Mrs Drakefield had already tried to harm our victim. Like it or not, that makes her a prime suspect.’
Refusing to accept what she was saying, I shook my head. ‘Mrs D wouldn’t do this – she wouldn’t murder someone. The poisoning was an accident. And why would she confess to poisoning Storcrest and then kill him? That would make her the worst murderer ever!’
‘I know it’s hard to believe, but I’ve seen a lot of idiocy in my day. The fact that it’s foolish doesn’t rule her out, Bea.’ Despite her words, Yanni’s tone was gentle. ‘You think you know her but you don’t. You haven’t known her for a decade, and before that you knew her as a child knows a teacher, through rose-tinted glasses. She’s lived a very long life and we don’t know what that has involved.’
I knew everything she was saying was true but my gut refused to accept that Mrs D could possibly be the killer. I was a PI; I had good gut instincts – and I bloody wellknewthat Mrs D wouldn’t do something like that.
Wewere still talking when Eva barked loudly. We all looked at my retriever, who was looking pointedly inland. ‘There’s someone up at the house.’ Dove pointed to a silhouette in one of the windows.
‘Go see who that is,’ Yanni said to me. ‘And tell them they can’t come down here. It’s a crime scene.’
Eva had been sitting on the jetty guarding us the entire time; given how much she liked to doze, I was impressed she’d stayed awake for so long. ‘Come on, girl,’ I told her. ‘You can help me.’
Tail wagging, she jumped up to follow me as I moved across the lawn towards the house and the mysterious intruder.
Chapter Nineteen
I was still a good twenty feet away when I realised who it was. My stomach gave an annoying somersault. Ugh.
‘You,’ I said, as Fraser Banks joined me next to the fountain.
‘It would appear so,’ he replied.
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Banks looked even more attractive. His collar was still undone, but now there was no jacket and his shirt sleeves were rolled up above his elbows as though they couldn’t go any further because of his biceps stretching the fabric. Honestly, did he buy his shirts from the children’s section to show off those muscular arms?
A flutter of attraction rippled through me, and for a split second I could have sworn I felt the same attraction rolling from him into me. But that couldn’t be right: there was no way I was reading Fraser Bank’s emotions. My lousy empath skills were the only powers I’d inherited from my parents, and even they were pathetic. What was the pointof being able to feel that someone’s upset when you could already see the tears in their eyes?
‘What’s going on?’ he asked. ‘I saw the police car outside. Is this to do with yesterday?’
‘I’m not at liberty to divulge details,’ I said. I’d already mastered sounding official from my PI days.
‘Is everything alright?’ he asked. ‘Is Warren okay?’
‘What are you doing here?’ I demanded instead of replying. ‘Are you and Warren friends?’
‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say we’re friends, but we’re part of the same sect.’ Banks’ tone was casual, relaxed, but the investigator part of me felt there was something I could dig into more deeply. If he and Warren had issues, that would push Banks up the suspect list and reduce the pressure on Mrs D. It could also help me get him away from my house and the missing Eternal Flame – two birds with one stone.
I hoped like hell that hewasour killer. Killers always returned to the scene of the crime, didn’t they? Not that I had much experience with murder, I was more of an affairs-of-the-heart PI than a murder one.
‘What does that mean?’ I probed. ‘You’re here at his house, but you’re not his friend?’
He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Is this an interrogation?’
‘No, it’s a question. Answer it. Please.’
His eyes narrowed. Muchas I didn’t want to, I felt my pulse tick up under the scrutiny of that icy blue gaze. ‘I brought the minutes for him,’ he said finally.
