Page 29 of Honey Mead Murder

SIXTEEN

GEORGE

When Murphy had texted him, George had been lounging inside with Bumble. The rain had cut short his plans to be in the garden all afternoon. Instead, he grabbed a container of little savoury pastries Margo had made for him.

They were buttery and flaky, filled with a potato and mutton curry. He also had a light summer salad with veggies from her garden. It would be perfect even on a mild, rainy June afternoon.

Driving Lenny’s vehicle threw him off a little. It had more sensitive brakes than his old Range Rover. He kept slamming to a stop unnecessarily hard or taking corners too sharply. His nerves were a bit ragged by the time he arrived at the brewery.

“Sorry, Bumble.” George checked on him in the back seat. He didn’t seem to have enjoyed his ride in the unfamiliar vehicle. “Let’s see what Murphy’s got for us.”

Getting out of the vehicle, George noticed the Mercedes parked directly in front of the door to the brewery. He didn’t recognise it. There was nothing suspicious about it, yet his stomach started churning.

Between driving Lenny’s vehicle and a surprise Mercedes, George felt his anxiety ratchet up even further. It was one of the few emotions that he found easier to identify.

The way his heart raced. The sensation of bees buzzing in his belly. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Bumble coming over to sit on his foot.

“I’m all right, Bumblebee. Just making myself freak out.” George crouched down to give him a good scratch. “Better get inside before the rain starts up again.”

Ringing the bell, George didn’t hear anything moving inside. He tried giving Murphy a call, but he didn’t answer. Odd. Bumble scratched at the doorframe, huffing with the effort to try to open the door.

George moved back to peer up at the windows of Murphy’s flat. He could see lights on but no movement. What’s going on?

Bumble didn’t follow him. Instead, he stayed stubbornly by the door and continued to paw at it. George returned and tried the handle; he was surprised when it twisted open.

Murphy usually didn’t leave it unlocked unless he was working downstairs or Teagan was there. Neither appeared to be true. George flipped on the light by the door. The brewery workshop was empty.

No Teagan.

No Murphy.

“Paddy?” George called but received no response. “Maybe we should head upstairs?”

Bumble had no answers for him. He immediately headed for the dog bed in Murphy’s office, leaving George to puzzle out the silence on his own. A noise from the pub side of the building drew both of their attention.

George walked over to the connecting door and opened it. “Murphy?”

No answer.

Stepping into the pub, George frowned at the darkness inside. Why would Murphy be moving around without a light on? He felt the wall to his left, inching along until he found the switch and flipped it.

“Who’s there?”

George was caught off-guard by the voice. He glanced around before spotting Ella Donelson behind the bar counter. “What are you doing in here? Where’s Murphy?”

“Irrelevant. I want the tapes.”

“Tapes?” George frowned at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The cameras.” Ella pointed to the one behind the bar. “Where are the tapes?”

“Tapes? It’s all digital.” George shook his head. He didn’t know why he was explaining anything to her. “Why are you here? How’d you get into the pub? Where’s Murphy?”

“Will you shut up?”

“One’s not very polite, is one?” George muttered sarcastically. He stumbled back against the wall when she came around the bar with a hunting rifle in hand. “Where. Is. Murphy?”

“I said shut up.” Ella gripped the rifle tightly in her arms. She had it aimed straight at his chest. “Darren heard from a constable friend that there was a video. There was video. I have to find it. Have to get my hands on it.”

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