Page 66 of Joker in the Pack

Before I got the chance to protest further, his phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket and checked the screen.

“This is the call I’ve been waiting for. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Obviously, I wasn’t to be privy to whatever he needed to discuss. I paced the kitchen as he did the same outside the window, up and down in front of the old apple tree. How could I repay him for the security improvements he insisted on making? First Tate, now Nye—I hated being a charity case.

Five minutes later, chilled air flooded in as Nye came back. He kept the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he sat in front of his laptop.

“Okay, I’ve got access now. Put you on speaker?”

The answer must have been yes, because he did just that, placing the phone down on the table.

“Olivia, this is Emmy. She works at Blackwood, and it turns out she lived in Lower Foxford briefly a year or so ago. She’s going to try and help us out.”

“Hi.” I hated speaking to strangers on the phone.

A well-spoken voice filled the room, the accent British with a faint American twang, soft yet exuding authority. “Some of the things I’ll say aren’t public knowledge, so I’d appreciate if they didn’t go any further.”

“Of course.”

“So, I hear you’ve been having a few problems with the delightful citizens of Upper Foxford?”

“They don’t seem very fond of me.”

Her hearty laugh was unexpected. “Don’t worry about it. I got declared persona non grata when I lived there too. Let me guess, you’re dating an eligible bachelor?”

“How did you know?”

“Happened to me as well. Now, let’s go through your questions. I’ll tell you what I know.”

Nye took over. “Right, for starters, we’ve got a guy called Henry.”

“Ah, the village sleaze. Slimy as you like, thinks he’s God’s gift?”

“That’s him,” I said. “He drives a Ferrari.”

“He’s an arrogant fuck, but he’s harmless for the most part. If he gives you any trouble, knee him in the crown jewels. He shuts up then.”

I couldn’t help giggling. “You didn’t?”

“I did. He steered clear of me after that.”

I still wasn’t sure whether to believe her, but just thinking about Henry getting his comeuppance made me smile.

“Why are there system files on so many people in the three villages?” Nye asked.

“A while back, a friend of mine got kidnapped from Lower Foxford, and I threw a lot of resources at the problem. Part of that involved basic workups on most of the locals.”

“Where’s the kidnapper now? Could this be connected?”

“Rotting in jail, and he won’t be getting out. I’ve unsealed everything else in case it helps, but I’m not sure you’ll find much that’s relevant. Most of it was targeted towards that one particular case—alibis, family connections, fingerprints, that sort of thing.”

“You never know. Do you have any contacts around here? Police?”

“The neighbourhood cops are fucking useless. But locals? Hmm… They don’t like strangers in Upper Foxford. The villagers get very protective of their own. Middleton and Lower Foxford aren’t so bad from what I remember. I’d try speaking to Carol. She runs a bed and breakfast in Lower Foxford, she’s chairwoman of the Women’s Institute, and she’s one of the main branches on the gossip tree. If she doesn’t know something, it’s probably not important. The biggest difficulty will be sorting out the facts from fiction and exaggeration.”

“Rumours are already going around about me,” I said.

“And believe me, Carol will have been instrumental in spreading them. When you speak to her, don’t tell her anything that you don’t want broadcast for a ten-mile radius by the next day. And if she offers you cake, my advice is to eat it. She’s a fantastic cook.”

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