Five minutes later, a car pulled into the driveway and two young guys joined us. The oldest looked stiff, visibly braced for bad news after Jennifer’s warning. They sat either side of their sister and she reached out to grasp their hands, her knuckles white.

‘I am so sorry,’ Yanni started. ‘We found your father dead this morning. It wasn’t the poison,’ she went on, forestalling the inevitable question. ‘He had a silver bullet wound to the back of his head. If it is any consolation, he didn’t see it coming. He wasn’t scared.’

Jennifer let out a sob. Rory stared forward, looking numb. Gilbert’s jaw worked then he put an arm around his sister, pulling her into him as her crying gained momentum. ‘The poisoner at the fayre came back to finish the job,’ he snarled. He was tall and gangly with narrow features; assuming he was a water shifter too, the only sea creature he reminded me of was an eel. Not a comparison to voice aloud.

‘We don’t think so.’ I jumped in before Yanni could say anything damning. The last thing I wanted was Mrs D being implicated for a murder. My boss shot me a glare, telling me to shut the hell up. There may even have been an expletive in it. She’d told me to stay quiet and let her do the talking but I couldn’t help myself.

‘I know this is a very difficult time for you all,’ she said, ‘but we need to ask you some questions if you’re up to it.’

Jennifer wiped the tears from her face. ‘Of course,’ she sniffed. ‘We want to do everything possible to help catch this son of a bitch! Ask away, Yanni.’

‘Is there’s anyone you can think of who might do this to your father? Any enemies he had?’

Jennifer shook her head. ‘He’s well-loved within the community. No one that knows him would harm him.’

Gilbert scoffed, ‘Well-loved people are always the most well-hated, too. Depends on which circles you move in.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ I asked, intrigued that his response was so different to his sister’s.

‘Dad was generous but some people didn’t like that. Take Sonny at the coffee shop – Dad was always pestering him to show that same spirit – you know, help with charity events, donate a few free coffees, that sort of thing – but he wouldn’t do it. Dad made others feel bad about their lack of philanthropy.’

Rory shook his head. ‘Sonny isn’t going to kill Dad for pestering him to donate free coffee.’

‘I agree,’ Jennifer interrupted. ‘That’s a stretch. Sonny complained about Dad, sure, but it was good natured. It’s not like they ever fought.’

‘Is there anyone your daddidfight with?’ I pressed.

At my question, the two older siblings went quiet and their gaze shifted to their younger brother. ‘Rory?’ Jennifer said softly.

Rory folded his arms. ‘No way. You can’t be serious.’ He was far shorter and stockier than Gilbert, dressed in ripped jeans, and he looked like he was in the throes of teenage angst. If he hadn’t been before, he certainly would be now. Losing a parent would do that to a kid. I knew it all too well.

‘I’m sorry to press,’ Yanni interrupted. ‘Can you give me a name? Someone who fought with your father?’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes.’

The siblings spoke over each other but only Rory went red in the cheeks. I’d tried to get a reading on the emotions in the room but there were so many ping-ponging around that I couldn’t untangle them and they threatened to overwhelm me. I hastily drew my shields back up again.

Rory sighed. ‘They’re talkingabout my mum, Angelica – their stepmum,’ he said finally. ‘And yes, she and Dad fought a lot, but usually through lawyers. They’re still in the midst of their divorce and they barely see each other these days.’ Under his breath he muttered, ‘Ibarely see her.’

I felt a sharp pang of sympathy; his father was dead and his mother was absent. He had it tough.

‘Have you seen her recently?’ Yanni asked.

He shook his head. ‘It’s been a couple of weeks.’

‘She doesn’t live locally?’

‘Oh, she lives locally.’ Jennifer’s lips were pressed together tightly in disapproval. ‘The lazy bitch lives about ten minutes down the road.’

Rory scowled but didn’t object and the ache within me deepened. If my mum could have been with me, she’d have been there in a heartbeat. The idea of a mother living so close to her children but not caring enough to see them...

‘Mum would never hurt Dad,’ Rory interrupted. ‘I promise. Look, I’m not her biggest fan – but no. I can’t imagine her doing that.’

‘You know she’s tried to squeeze Dad for every penny he had,’ Gilbert said. ‘Maybe he wouldn’t be squeezed any longer.’