Page 25 of Honey Mead Murder

“Let me text one of Graeme’s old schoolmates. He works at the Keith recycling centre. I’m betting they took the stuff there. If we’re lucky, they haven’t gotten rid of all of it.” Murphy had a feeling it was probably too late, but maybe something in the rubbish had stood out. Anything was better than nothing. “Did you hear anything else while adding more colour to your hair?”

Teagan patted the side of their head where the colours had been noticeably brightened. “Not from the girlfriend. My auntie mentioned Ronald Donelson had been seen at a solicitor’s office in Keith.”

“Not that much of a surprise.”

“A family law solicitor,” Teagan added. “Reeve and Foster? I think. Don’t they mostly handle divorce and custody situations?”

“Ah. Interesting. Old money like the Donelson’s? I bet you there was a prenup. But, of course, they’d want to protect their precious history.” Murphy finished his message to Graeme’s friend and opened the thread to Evan. He’d been licking his wounds a little after Margo had turned him down. “Anyone have plans for tomorrow?”

“Not working since we’re shut for the next few days.” Teagan stretched their legs out, still sipping on their tea. “Why?”

“I’m going to take a trip out to the recycling centre, then swing by Keith to have a chat with Evan about divorce, prenups, and trust funds.” Murphy figured it would keep him from stressing at home in his flat. Unfortunately, his tendency to hermit wasn’t going to serve him well, with a murder still looming over him. “Anyone want to join me?”

“I will. Might let Bumble enjoy a playdate with Treacle.” George had his own phone out, likely messaging Margo to see if she was free.

“Only your dog would have a playdate.” Teagan grinned. They laughed when Bumble let out a loud snort. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have poked fun at you for spending time with your bestie.”

“He takes his Treacle time very seriously.” George dropped his phone onto the couch beside him. “Besides, he’ll have more fun there than traipsing through the rubbish with us.”

“Not sure how much traipsing will happen.” Murphy reached out to take George’s hand. He rubbed his thumb across his knuckles. “Make sure to wear your wellies.”

“You’re both disgustingly adorable. I might be violently ill.”

FOURTEEN

GEORGE

It had been another long night with not a lot of sleep. George struggled to get his mind to shut down. He woke up with a mild headache and Bumble drooling on his chest.

The alarm on his phone had been going off for a good twenty minutes. He had it set to a pleasing classical piece. It normally woke him up if Bumble hadn’t trampled all over his face.

“C’mon. Time for us to get up and going. You’ve got your best friend waiting for you. But first, breakfast and bees.” George dragged a T-shirt over his head and padded barefoot into the bathroom. He splashed icy-cold water on his face until he felt a little less like absolute shite. “Nothing like murder to ruin my peaceful night of sleep.”

Making his way into the kitchen, George immediately turned the kettle on for coffee. He stared blearily at the calendar on the fridge. It was where he kept his bee schedule and a list of daily to-dos.

The ones that never changed. His mind often remembered the odd tasks out, but the daily ones slipped past him. The list on the calendar ensured he didn’t miss any critical stages with his bees. It was particularly important in the summer when he had to concentrate on collecting nectar.

Much of his time was spent ensuring the health of the hive. He checked daily for any issues with his colony. It was imperative to keep an eye out for disease or swarming.

He’d almost lost his entire colony of bees because of a critical mistake early on his beekeeping. It had made him hypervigilant as a result, hence the calendar. He breathed a little easier after checking on them and ensuring they were buzzing along merrily around the hives.

“Ready for your playdate?” George had managed a quick shower and breakfast. Bumble had eyed him suspiciously, since he wasn’t a fan of baths. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to attempt to drown you today. As your auntie Margo would say, you’re such a drama queen.”

Whizzing around the garden to quickly check on everything, George made it out the door with Bumble a few minutes later than expected. He didn’t have time to stress about seeing Murphy. Not that he usually was anxious, but they were slowly dancing their way into a relationship; it somehow felt like it mattered more.

Margo was, as per usual, waiting at the door for him. Treacle lazed on the grass in front of the cottage. George had to carefully extract a struggling Bumble, who wanted down immediately.

The two cousins watched their dogs for a moment in silence. They were the sweetest of best friends. Bumble didn’t take long to find the perfect spot in the garden to lounge on with Treacle draped across him.

“So, tell me about Teagan.” George was running late, but he always had a little time to tease Margo. “Murphy said Evan had asked you out.”

“Evan and I are friends. Nothing more. Teagan asked me in on a date.”

“In on a date?” George found himself intrigued by the idea.

“They won’t tell me what they’re planning, just that I won’t have to go anywhere.” Margo shrugged. “Leave them alone. No pressing them for answers.”

“Yeah, yeah.” George gave Margo a quick hug, then petted both Treacle and Bumble. Both dogs were unmoved by him. They were more interested in watching a passing bumblebee. “I see where I rate.”

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