Page 53 of Not That Impossible

“…jam?”

“All jam? A dozen jam doughnuts?”

No, that would kill him. I could definitely see Liam ploughing his way through all twelve. “Do you do smaller boxes?”

She bent down, slid out a flat and folded white bakery box from under the counter, and popped it up with practiced ease. She set it down. “I’m going to give you a three-pack. Let’s go with one jam, one glazed ring, and a Boston creme. That’s covering your bases.” She efficiently loaded up the box and put it alongside the drinks. “Who’s it for?”

“Adam,” I lied.

She snorted. “Adam’s even worse than you are with that whole body-is-my-temple shit. Don’t tell me, I don’t care.” She held out the card reader, and I tapped it.

“Thanks, Ames,” I said, and headed out.

“Hope your mystery man likes them,” she called after me.

I shot her a grin as I shouldered the door open.Me too.

* * *

The police cordonat the top of Sycamore Close had already been removed. Probably because the residents would only put up with being told they couldn’t park in their own damn driveways for so long.

I turned at the junction and decided to pull over at the top of the street and walk the rest of the way to Ray’s. I parked, got out of the car, and zipped up my hoodie. It wasn’t raining, for what felt like the first time since Christmas, but it was cold enough that my breath plumed in front of me.

I grabbed the doughnuts and the two-cup tray of coffee and headed down the road. I was going to stay on the opposite side until I got a good look at the constables. I didn’t fancy being screamed at by Katie Jones for being too close again. Once was enough.

As I approached, I saw that there was still a visible police presence outside Ray’s house. The barricades and tape were still up, and a couple of bored-looking constables lurked in Ray’s drive. Lights blazed in all Ray’s windows, bright and hard against the dull morning.

I wondered if Ray had spent the night there? No, they wouldn’t let him, surely? I shuddered at the thought. No way would I be able to sleep in a house where there had been a dead body not hours ago. I’d have gone over to Adam’s. Did Ray—

I stopped dead.

Oh, shit. Adam.

I’d forgotten to give him a heads-up about Ray.

Well, he knew by now. I hadn’t told him, but someone else would have. The staff at the Premier Lodge were even worse gossips than people at the gym.

The sound of voices prompted me to resume my approach. Ray’s front door was open, and Liam came out with a couple of crime scene technicians in white jumpsuits, carrying…crime-scene looking stuff. Large toolbox-looking things. Tripods. Camera bags.

My stomach tightened at Liam’s familiar gruff tone and I picked up the pace in case he went back inside before I caught his eye.

The crime scene techs wandered down the drive and got into one of the five cars parked at the side of the road. Liam turned to go back inside, but before he got any further, he went still then glanced over his shoulder straight at me.

I remembered in time that I had both hands full and instead of waving, I yelled cheerfully. “Hi!”

Liam strode down Ray’s drive and ducked under the tape.

He shook his head at me when I started to cross the road. I stopped obediently and waited as he stalked over to where I stood in front of Mrs Hughes’ house.

“Morning,” I said.

“Jasper.”

“I brought you a treat,” I said.

He spoke over me, “Jasper, this better not be what I think it is.”

I hesitated as I tried to read his expression. It was a tough one. He looked annoyed and frustrated (so far, so Liam) but there was something else there that made my stomach tighten again.

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