Page 16 of Honey Mead Murder

“Too worried about getting you and Bumble out of the way.” Murphy handed Bumble over to George with trembling hands. He knew they’d had an extraordinarily close call. “I recognised the car. It was at the brewery the night of the tasting. Not sure who owns it, but I know I saw it. But why? We haven’t even asked any questions.”

“Well….”

“George? Talk to me, Buzz.”

“I might’ve asked a few questions on the online community forum.” George cuddled Bumble close to his chest. “Subtle ones.”

“How subtle?”

“Is there a sliding scale of subtlety?” George was definitely skirting the question. “I asked if anyone had been at the tasting and if they recalled seeing anything out of the ordinary. I might’ve asked if anyone had video.”

“George.”

“What? It might prove helpful.”

“It also might’ve told someone you were poking your nose into the murder investigation.” Murphy ensured they were both back on solid ground before grabbing his phone. He went to call his cousin, then reconsidered. “I have no idea what to say to Sarah. Some numpty tried to run us over? We’ve no proof. What would we tell her?”

“A red car with a dent on the side may or may not have purposefully attempted to murder us while we were walking down a narrow lane.” George shifted Bumble in his arms to make him more comfortable. “Maybe mention it next time you speak with her?”

Murphy stopped walking to take a better look around. Unfortunately, he didn’t see any CCTV cameras. “Shite. I was hoping there’d be a camera.”

“There’s one around the corner near the football pitch.” George took a breath and set a wiggling Bumble down on the ground. “Let’s keep walking.”

TEN

GEORGE

The close encounter of a vehicular kind had jarred George’s nerves. He wanted nothing more than to snatch Bumble off the ground and run back to the safety of his cottage. It was possibly an irrational thought.

Maybe not irrational when he considered how close they’d come.

They eventually made their way to the Coffee Pot. There were a number of people sitting outside, chatting away despite the threat of rain. Murphy waved to a few of them; George focused his attention on Bumble, never sure about greeting those he didn’t know well.

Murphy had grown up in Dufftown. Just about everyone in the village knew him. George was a relatively new face by comparison.

The village had welcomed George with open arms. However, he still struggled at times to get used to the overly friendly greetings. Bumble helped, since everyone adored a snuffling pug in a raincoat.

Who wouldn’t?

While doing his level best to avoid making eye contact, George spotted Darren and Natalia across the street in front of the florist. They were having a heated conversation.

Nudging Murphy with his elbow, George tried to casually make his way closer. He allowed Bumble to take the lead. It gave him an excuse for meandering across the street without seeming to eavesdrop on the couple.

“I saw you, Darren. I saw you with that conniving…” Natalia’s voice trailed off. George couldn’t hear the next bit of the conversation. “You weren’t subtle at the pub. Snuggling up like I wasn’t in the sodding room. Maybe I should tell the police about how Ella Donelson was shagging you? Miss Prim and Proper having a tawdry affair. Perhaps the detectives should put your name at the top of their list. Where were you when poor old Ronnie choked on ice?”

“Will you shut up?” Darren grabbed her by the arms, dragging her into her shop and slamming the door closed.

Their voices faded away. George continued past, noticing Darren had flipped the sign from open to closed. Interesting. He completed a loop down to the end of the street and then circled back to Murphy, who’d gotten coffees, pastries, and a treat for Bumble.

They chose a table further away from the rest. George offered Bumble the little biscuit along with a bowl of water. He glanced around to ensure no one was paying them any attention.

“Well?”

“Natalia Fishwick’s aware of her husband’s philandering ways. She threw it in his face and practically accused him of being the one to kill Ronald Donelson.” George kept reminding himself to keep his voice low. He wasn’t always brilliant with moderating his tone. With a quick sip of coffee and then another cursory glance around him, he continued to tell Murphy what he’d heard. “She might’ve just been threatening him for cheating.”

“Maybe. It’s certainly interesting she immediately went there.” Murphy leaned in closer. “We’re not going to get anything out of them—”

He was cut off by the sound of breaking glass. They twisted around in their chairs to see a vase had been launched through one of the florist shop windows. Darren came rushing outside.

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