Finally, she made it to the front of the queue, but when Thea explained the situation, the raven-haired woman who served her shrugged her shoulders. “No one’s handed anything in,” she said, one eyebrow raised.
“What am I going to do?” asked Thea, the burn in her gut a broiling churn.
“I’d give it half an hour. If anyone finds your keys, they’ll probably do their shopping before handing them in.”
“But I haven’t got half an hour. While my six-year-old is waiting for me at school, I’ll be here waiting for someone to choose their broccoli or pick a nice bottle of wine. Can’t you put an announcement out on the loudspeaker?”
The woman scoffed. “And say what?” She put on a posh, high-pitched voice, pretending to speak into an invisible microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, could everyone please stop what they’re doing and get down on their hands and knees? We think another customer may have dropped her keys somewhere near frozen peas, and we need you to check the floor.”
Well, it sounded better than doing nothing. Thea rolled her eyes at the woman.
“I’d suggest you find someone else to pick up your daughter. You’ll have to wait to see if someone hands in your keys.”
Thea’s brain raced. Both Josh and Kitty were at an antenatal appointment, and Belinda, her occasional stable hand, was on holiday in Spain. Kitty’s aunt Julia would be at her golf lesson. The only other person she could ask would be Daniel. A wave of relief washed over her. Of course, Daniel would help. And he and Ammy had their mutual adoration club. She could pick her daughter up from the pub after finding her keys.
With a tight-lipped smile, Thea pushed her trolley to the side of the store and dialled Daniel’s number.
Two minutes later, her hands trembled, and a trickle of sweat made a leisurely path between her shoulder blades. Daniel couldn’t pick Ammy up either. Amber was out at a wedding dress fitting, and he and Daphne, the barmaid, were the only two at the pub. Daniel couldn’t leave Daphne single-handed. A large party of lawyers was enjoying a boozy lunch at the bistro.
He’d offered his mother’s help. She was visiting for his wedding. But at the suggestion, Thea’s brain flew to the oversized penis candlestick she’d showcased at the dinner dance.There was no way she was going to let a woman who could create such a monstrosity pick her daughter up from school.
Thea’s pulse and brain raced, grasping at straws, but only two options reared their ugly heads. Persephone Murray and Felix Walsh. Slim pickings. She had both of their numbers. Their children were friends, and all things considered, she was still on somewhat speaking terms with both of them. But which was the lesser of two evils?
Thea opened up her contacts list, finger hovering over the phone screen. It was too late for hesitation. To be picky. Ammy would be alone and waiting for her within ten minutes. Taking a deep breath, she typed in the letter F.
Felix answered within four rings. “Hello, Thea? Are you okay?” His words came quickly, an edge to his voice.
An icy chill ran through her body, and she glanced around. How did he know she was in trouble? Did he have someone tailing her? A private eye hiding behind the toilet roll display at the end of the aisle?
“Yes. I-I’m fine,” she stuttered. And here it came. Words she never wanted to say to Felix Walsh. “I need your help.”
After explaining what had happened and enduring his lecture on responsible key ownership, her body loosened. Why had she been so worried about calling him? He was hardly an ogre. Felix would pick both Ammy and Lucas up and take them to her place.
“How do I get in? Don’t tell me you left the door hanging open.”
Thea’s lips ticked up. Of course. He had to make a snide comment. “Not at all! I’ve taken your advice and locked the house whenever I’m over fifteen meters from the perimeter.” She could just imagine the self-satisfied look on his face.
“And have you left a spare key with anyone? A neighbour?”
“No, but there’s a key under the red plant pot by the door. It’s got last year’s Christmas tree in it.”
An audible huff hit Thea’s ear. “Under a plant pot?” With the drawl in his voice, Felix sounded like he’d completed the London marathon on stilts. Utterly exhausted.
“Yes. Why?”
“It’s the first place a burglar would look. Plant pots are the number one hiding spot, closely followed by welcome mats. I don’t suppose you put a spare under there, too?”
“I’m not stupid,” she said. “The other one’s in my car.”
“Thea!” he ground out in that same husky, disapproving tone he always used. Her toes curled in her work boots. She enjoyed hearing it. Had spent plenty of time these last few days pondering its effect on her. If there was one thing to like about Felix, it was how he could make her feel deliciously naughty. Petty, yes, but wicked.
“You’ve obviously spent more time studying the workings of the criminal mind than I have, Felix, but someone’s waving at me from the tea and coffee aisle. They might have found my keys. I better go. Thank you again!”
Of course, it was a lie. But she wanted to conduct one more sweep around the shop before she gave up all hope. The less time Felix spent in charge of Ammy, in charge of her house, the less she’d be in his debt.
Thea’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of him in her house, and a wave of realisation crashed over her. Felix would see her place at its absolute worst. Ammy’s toys littered every surface. She’d left dirty breakfast plates on the side, hadn’t cleaned up the toast crumbs, and couldn’t be absolutely sure she hadn’t left the latestHotelier Magazineon the kitchen dresser. She’d tracked a copy down at the Newsagents in Clavenham. The speciality journal was hardly the type of purchase one could pass off as accidental. Worse still, Felix was on its cover.
“Shit!” she said, startling a passing pensioner. Maybe Persephone Murray would have been a better choice. With a sigh, Thea ran her fingers through her hair. At least she’d cleared up the cat vomit.
