Page 72 of Joker in the Pack

“Everything’s made from local produce. Award-winning sausages and home-cured bacon from the Baxters’ farm, eggs laid next door but one, and I made the bread myself.”

She stared at Nye, and he slowly picked up his knife and fork. “You really shouldn’t have.”

“It was no trouble.”

I tried a piece of sausage, and it was actually very good. Nye did the same and swallowed before he focused on Carol again, who’d dragged up an extra chair.

“Tastes perfect. But while we’re here, I was hoping you could help us out with some information.”

“I certainly will if I can.”

“Olivia here’s had a couple of break-ins, and I’m looking for the culprit.”

“Luke Halston-Cain told me you were a private investigator. Do you get to carry a gun?”

“That’s not allowed in the UK.”

Carol’s eyebrows pinched together. “That isn’t much fun, is it?”

The corners of Nye’s lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile.

“No, it’s not, but it’s probably safer that way. Anyway, those burglaries—Luke reckoned that if anyone might have heard anything about them, it would be you.”

She drew herself up to her full height and preened, obviously proud of her reputation as queen of the gossipmongers.

“I have heard a few things.”

Nye gave her an encouraging smile. “Such as? Anything about Olivia?”

“Oh yes, a lot abouther.” She made “her” sound like a curse. “And you’d be wise to watch your step with that one.”

Don’t mind me, lady. I’m only sitting right next to you.

Nye leaned forward a little, and Carol mirrored him.

“Shall I tell you a secret?” he asked.

Her eyes lit up as she nodded.

“I’ve heard those rumours about Olivia myself, but none of them are true.”

“Really? But so many people are saying the same thing.”

“Terrible, isn’t it? Somebody’s trying to ruin her reputation. I can assure you that Olivia’s one of the nicest girls you’ll ever meet, and she definitely isn’t a gold-digger. She runs her own business.”

“What kind of business?”

Carol looked me up and down, no doubt imagining what occupation would befit the black sheep of the village. Home massage? Mail-order sex toys? Or maybe I peddled drugs to small children?

“She designs websites.”

“Are you sure?”

“Her company’s called Webs By Design. She started it five years ago while she was still at university. Her site for Longacres Garden Centre is well worth a look—they’ve got a three-for-two deal on packets of seeds at the moment.” He gestured out of the window at Carol’s immaculate front borders. “You’re obviously fond of gardening.”

Carol twirled one tight curl on a finger. “I’m treasurer of the horticultural society.”

“Well, maybe you could let your members know about the special offer?”

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