Page 82 of Joker in the Pack

Stop it, Olivia!

I shouldn’t be thinking like that at all, but it was so hard with temptation sitting right in front of me.

“Yes, got it.”

When I opened the laptop to distract myself, I found I’d sold six items on eBay. Another eighty pounds, and the pesky foot spa with seventeen attachments was finally on its way to a new home. It didn’t take long to pack everything, and Nye insisted on carrying the parcels as we walked into the village. He’d wanted to drive, but I begged to walk in the sunshine. I’d got fitter since moving to Upper Foxford—one of the few advantages of living there.

In the post office, Nye dumped everything on the counter, and Betty looked up at him with undisguised awe.

“Recorded delivery for the two big parcels, please, and second class for the rest,” I said.

Nothing. Today, I didn’t exist.

Nye tried instead. “Olivia would like to send the two big parcels recorded delivery, and the rest can go second class.”

“Right away, Mr… I didn’t catch your name?”

“Nye Holmes.”

“Are you new in the village?”

She knew damn well he was.

“I’m helping to keep Olivia safe from the man who keeps breaking into her house.”

“You’re a bodyguard?”

“More of an investigator.”

“Now I come to think about it, I’ve been hearing strange noises in the night myself.”

“Probably her bones creaking,” I muttered as Betty turned to weigh the foot spa. Or that strange son of hers. I wondered whether Nye would ask about Larry, but he didn’t.

Instead, he choked back a laugh. “I could ask a colleague to look into the matter, if you like. Shall I get someone to call with details of our rates?”

Betty hastily shook her head. “No, no, dear. I’m sure it’s just my imagination.”

She barely took her eyes off Nye the whole time we were in there, and when he asked if she sold chewing gum, I thought she was about to vault the counter and show him where it was herself. At least I wasn’t the only woman he caused to act crazy around him.

“Do many old ladies flirt with you?” I asked when we got outside.

He shifted from foot to foot. “A few,” he admitted, clearly uncomfortable. “Do you want to get groceries before we go back?”

Not really. I couldn’t deal with Floyd’s sullenness at the moment, or his prices. “Could we head into town later? There’s more choice.”

“Whatever you want.”

Tate phoned just as we walked in the door, and I glanced at my watch. Eleven thirty.

“Good morning, darling. You left a message?”

“I did.”

“You said it was urgent, so I slotted you in right after my third meeting. What’s wrong?”

Well, at least I’d found out where I lay in Tate’s list of priorities. “The urgency’s gone out of it now. I got broken into again last night.”

“That’s awful. Did they take much?”

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