Back at the farm everything seemed to be running smoothly. The scenes-of-crime bods had been to dust for fingerprints and the local police had simply phoned with a crime number, as Jeremy had said they would. Rachel had fed the hens and picked up the eggs, and Mark Turnbull had stayed on after milking to help Sam with the various jobs that had to be done.
Rachel was just leaving as Josh arrived, and I knew she’d be annoyed that she had little more than a fleeting glimpse of him – she was dying to meet him and give him the once over, I knew.
‘I can’t stay long,’ Josh said apologetically, ‘but I’m free this evening if you’d like to meet up. I did promise to cook for you,’ he said with a rueful grin.
‘Why don’t I cook for you?’ I suggested. ‘I think Mum will be staying for at least one more night with Dad, and I really don’t think I want to leave the house unoccupied after what happened last night, though I still don’t understand it. I mean, who on earth would come all the way out here to steal just a few bits and pieces? Farms get targeted for equipment – tractors, for instance, often get nicked, and I’ve even heard of livestock going missing. But a computer, an anniversary clock and a couple of brass candlesticks? It’s crazy.’
‘The computer,’ Josh said. He was looking very serious. ‘Is that the computer you’ve been using for all your notes about the fire and Dawn Burridge’s death?’
‘Was using, yes. I’ve got my laptop now.’
‘You’ve got a laptop?’ Josh asked, surprised, and I realized I hadn’t mentioned buying it.
‘Yes – I got it a couple of days ago. But . . . I’m not following you, Josh. What has that got to do with . . .?’
Josh shrugged. ‘Nothing probably. I was just wondering . . . Well, you know what I think about you pursuing this investigation of yours. I think you’re playing with fire. And it just occurred to me there might be some connection. That it was the computer the intruder was after, and the other bits and pieces were taken to make it look like a run-of-the-mill burglary.’
‘Oh, that’s ridiculous!’ I retorted. ‘Why would anyone . . .?’
‘Perhaps someone wanted to know what you’ve found out. Or put a spoke in your investigation. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if there is anything in all this, Sally, you could be dealing with very dangerous people.’
‘I can’t believe that anyone would stage a burglary to get their hands on my notes,’ I said forcefully. ‘And anyway, how would they know the house was going to be unoccupied?’
‘News of your dad’s accident spread pretty fast . . .’
‘And got picked up by some local low-life who grabbed the opportunity to break in and take anything they could sell to get the money for their next fix,’ I said. ‘That’s why I don’t want to leave the house empty tonight. If word gets round we’re spending time at the hospital, some other druggie might decide to try his luck.’
‘If you say so,’ Josh said wearily. ‘Anyway, it’s all the more reason for you not to be here alone. So OK, I will take you up on your offer to cook for me. If only so I can make sure you’re safe.’
I rolled my eyes. But there was no denying the feeling of warmth deep inside me.
My phone was ringing.
It was late afternoon and I was assembling the ingredients I’d managed to find in the fridge, freezer and store cupboards to cook an evening meal without going into town. The best I could come up with was a lasagne with garlic bread and salad. The mince was defrosting in the microwave and I was chopping an onion, tears streaming down my cheeks. As I heard the ringtone of my phone, I wiped my hands on Mum’s cook’s apron, which I’d borrowed, and scooped it up.
Could it be Alice?
It was.
‘Sorry I had to go in a hurry this morning,’ she said.
‘No problem. You said you wanted to talk to me?’ I was trying to keep the excitement out of my voice, and failing miserably.
‘Yes.’
‘About Dawn?’
There was a brief silence. Then: ‘I’d rather not go into it over the phone,’ Alice said. She still sounded nervous, though I guessed she was no longer in the office. ‘Could we meet?’
‘Of course. Where? When?’
‘How about Sunday morning? I’m working all day tomorrow. And I suggest the children’s play park at the sports centre. Say eleven o’clock, somewhere near the swings? Do you know it?’
‘Yes.’ She’d chosen a spot that was likely to be busy on a Sunday morning, I guessed – always provided it was fine. ‘What if it’s pouring with rain?’ I asked.