Page 93 of Joker in the Pack

Betty nodded.

“He did show a liking for Olivia here, which gave me hope, but once I heard she was chasing Tate, I told Larry she wasn’t suitable for him.”

“What kind of liking did he show for Olivia?”

“You know, an interest—he said she was pretty and asked me what her name was.”

“And you told him?”

“Well, yes. New blood in the village, I thought I might finally get my grandbabies. Oh, and he had some pictures of her.”

“What kind of pictures?”

“Just a few photographs. Nothing special.”

“Can you remember what Olivia was doing in the photos?”

Betty stared past us as she thought, her eyes focused on an ugly painting of a dog on the far wall. “She was riding a bicycle. You should smile when someone takes your picture, dear. Nobody likes a sad sack.”

Maybe I would have freaking smiled if I’d posed willingly. How on earth had he got so close without me noticing? I gave a shudder and squashed against Nye without thinking, but before I could move away again, he slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer.

His voice hardened a little. “Olivia’s still having problems with a burglar. If Larry’s been nearby, he might have seen someone. He could prove to be a valuable witness. Do you think we could talk to him?”

Good going, Nye. Flattery will get you everywhere.

Betty’s chest puffed out with pride. “My Larry’s always been observant. He only pops by from time to time, though, and I haven’t seen him in over a week.”

Which was a hell of a lot more recently than she admitted before. It was amazing where a handful of well-directed questions from Nye got us.

“We really do need to talk with him.”

“I’ll ask him to call round at your cottage next time he’s here.” She turned to me. “I’m sure now we know those nasty stories aren’t true, he’d love to get to spend more time with you.”

Oh, wonderful. Did Aunt Ellie have a flamethrower hidden away anywhere? Because I’d be tempted to use it if Larry ever turned up within spitting distance.

“Do you have his address?” Nye asked. “We could swing by and save him the trouble.”

“He moves around, does my Larry. Never did stick in one place for long. Would his phone number help?”

“More than you could know, Betty.”

CHAPTER 28

“WHO’S THAT?” I hissed as we pulled up outside Lilac Cottage.

A blond-haired man stood in the front garden, eyeing up my windows. I say blond—his close-cropped hair was so light it was almost white.

“It’s okay,” Nye muttered, forgetting to open my door as he got out to greet our mysterious visitor. From the way the guards were sitting in their car, relaxed but alert, I assumed he wasn’t my burglar. Could this be the locksmith?

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the lovely lady?” he asked when I got near.

Nye didn’t look as if he wanted to, but his manners came to the fore. “Liv, this is Spike. Spike, meet Olivia.”

Spike took my hand and kissed it, and Nye glared at him with murder in his eyes.

But Spike only laughed. “Easy, mate. Treading on your toes, am I?”

“No.” Nye sounded like a sulky toddler.

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