Cold Death (2 page)

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Authors: S. Y. Robins

BOOK: Cold Death
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Chapter Two

Milly woke the next morning and for the first time since she’d had the dogs, she didn’t take them up to the hills. Edgar wasn’t even with them this morning, still snuggled with Jake, as the dogs ran and pranced at the park. Milly made sure to clean up after them, then took them back to the shop, letting them back into her flat. She knew Jake was up when she came back but he hadn’t come downstairs so she chose some music to put in a playlist, connected her mobile to her speakers, and began the process of making tea cakes and other assorted pastries that would go in her shop.

Normally Milly blasted a rather eclectic assortment of music that she sang and danced around her kitchen to, the routine an outlet, almost therapy for her. This morning she just didn’t have the heart for it, her thoughts constantly on Callum and wondering what he’d woken to. Milly had no experience with jail; she’d never been in trouble so she didn’t know if it was the same as the shows and films she’d seen where men were constantly in danger from other prisoners or if he was in a cell on his own. She’d barely slept a wink, worrying all night about Callum.

Realizing she’d been stood at the sink for several minutes washing the same cup, Milly shook herself and decided that she was not going to lose herself in melancholy. No, it was time to be proactive. Shifting her playlist to her normal fare she cranked the music up, took a batch of cakes that had been cooling on a rack and put them on the table and began her morning ritual. Milly, aware that Jake was upstairs, didn’t belt out the songs as she normally did but she gave them a good kicking as she applied fruits and toppings to the cakes. She swung her hips and pumped her fists, screaming “more, more, more,” along with the song she was listening to, in between decorating, and eventually lost herself in her task. That is until someone shouted her name loudly and broke the spell.

Dropping a handful of fresh raspberries and screeching as she turned, Milly turned several shades of red to see Jake standing there, losing the battle to not laugh.

“Well, you know lad, you could try a little harder to hide that laugh, and it is not nice to laugh at the elderly, my boy!” Milly said with a stern smile.

“Oh Milly, I think it’s wonderful! I’m not laughing at you; I’m just enjoying watching you enjoy your tasks! No wonder Callum stands out in the yard each morning looking so pleased with the world! And you aren’t old, Milly, you’re far from old in fact.” Jake said as he came in, ignoring Milly’s shocked countenance as he pinched a rudely decorated cake.

“That’s only an accident, you can have that one. I usually save those back. Callum stands out each morning watching me?” Milly told herself they were accidents but deep down she knew she did the cakes on purpose. She also wanted to know more about Callum watching her. He’d once alluded to her dancing and she had thought he perhaps had caught her once or twice but she had no idea he watched her every morning!

“Yes, he does. He hears you taking the animals out then he goes down, makes a coffee and some breakfast, then he goes out and sits in the garden, even when there’s snow, to watch you, apparently. I’d wondered what had his attention so often over here, now I know.” The boy smothered a giggle and went to the front to prepare a cup of tea for them both.

Milly finished her tasks but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Imagine, Callum watching her through the windows every morning! Well, she was just going to have to put up some curtains, she told herself, or maybe not.

Milly was rushed off her feet that morning with villagers, locals, and some not so locals coming in to trade gossip about Callum and Maria. The one thing that had been at the back of Milly’s mind but hadn’t fully come to the forefront was finally brought home as she listened to the conversations going on around her; if Callum did not murder Maria, who exactly did? Milly was certain there were plenty of wives that may have held grudges against the tall, lean, blonde-haired woman that made it her life’s work to attract so much attention, but Milly couldn’t think of one off hand. Maria may have been a lot of things but she wasn’t the type to sleep with another woman’s husband, not in her own village at least.

The most important thing Milly learned over the course of the morning was that every one of the villagers believed Callum was innocent, even with the evidence stacking up against him. There was no doubt amongst any of them that Callum was an innocent man. They knew his alibi was shaky but Callum wasn’t the type. Lots of people went out of town for the evening with no real proof, or no proof that they cared to admit to, that they’d been and come back. People had their own private reasons for going out of town and they were all sure Callum had a good one, even if he didn’t explain it publicly. The villagers, like Milly, had no idea who would have murdered Maria, however.

Around 11 that morning Milly received a phone call from the solicitor, he’d arranged a time for her to meet with Callum but she needed to get down to the station quickly. Milly put a closed sign on her shop door, with an explanation that she would be reopening later that day, and then she and Jake were off to the station to see Callum. They were told straightaway that Jake would not be able to see his uncle but Milly would be allowed to go in. As they waited for someone to take her through to Callum, Milly spoke with the solicitor.

“Have they charged him?” She asked, knowing that they could only hold him for 96 hours, at the most, if he wasn’t charged. She’d spent some time on the internet last night to brush up on all of this.

“No, not yet. They’re waiting for a report from the medical examiner. I’m working on getting him released, however, if he’d just tell them what he was doing on the night of Maria’s death we might be able to get him out more quickly.” The solicitor, Mr. Barrows, told Milly, sounding frustrated.

“He’s still not told them? I don’t care if he was up to his ears in floozies that night, he needs to tell them!” Milly said, becoming miffed with Callum. Stubborn man.

“Maybe he’ll talk to you? Perhaps you can convince him to tell them when you speak with him?” Mr. Barrows said hopefully.

“I’ll do my best. Ah, here we go. Wish me luck, I’ll pass along your love, Jake.” She told the boy as she squeezed his arm in passing. With a grim smile she followed the female guard into a small grey room with only a table and two grey chairs. The room looked as though it belonged in a horror film and certainly didn’t invite happy conversation. The door was pushed open and then Callum was there, trailed by more guards.

“You have fifteen minutes. No embracing, no touching, only talking, am I clear?” The guard asked. They both nodded their heads and the guard moved out of the room.

“Oh, you are a sight for sore eyes, Milly! I’m so glad you came! But then again, I’m sorry to drag you into this... ” his voice trailed off as he looked down at his hands, cuffed together with shiny metal braces.

Milly smiled over at him, noting how tired he looked, his dark-brown eyes shadowed, and how dishevelled he was with his hair going in a million directions. He still had that rogue’s smile hidden behind a day’s growth of beard, however, and her heart melted, seeing that one slightly crooked tooth of his. Then her smile turned grim. “If you’d just tell them why you went out of town, Callum, they’d let you come home.” She broke off as he pushed back in his seat, shaking his head.

“Jake sends his love and he misses you. You have to do everything you can to get out of here because that lad needs you, Callum. I miss you as well and I’m taking care of Jake but your nephew needs his uncle. So tell them what they need to know? Please?” She reached out her hand to take his manacled one but then stopped; she didn’t want to get him in further trouble for breaking the rules. She looked away from his hands, the cuffs were a visual reminder that she had to leave him there when her time was up and she wanted to pretend that wasn’t going to happen.

Callum looked panicked for a moment, and then resigned as he brushed his hands through his curly hair. “You’re right, as usual, Milly. I’ll tell them. I just wanted to keep it all private and quiet for a while longer. But I suppose everyone will soon learn about it now. Ah well, I can prove I didn’t do it, at least. We can hope.”

The rest of the visit went far too quickly for Milly, and she tried to hide her tears as the guards came back for him. Callum saw the one that managed to escape as she rapidly blinked her eyes and reached up to wipe it away but the guard jerked him back with a reminder. “No touching.”

Milly glared at the man but kept quiet, not wanting to make matters worse for Callum. She walked back into the room where the solicitor and Jake were waiting and sank into one of the chairs there. “Well, I think he’ll tell them where he went and why now, at least. That should be enough shouldn’t it?”

“I don’t want to give you false hope, but it should. It just depends on where he went and if he can prove it. I’ll go talk with him now. I’ll give you a call later, alright? Get Jake home and get your business back open. The best thing to do right now is to stay busy. And thank you, Ms. Dupont, you’ve been brilliant.” Mr. Barrows said as he shook Milly’s hand then disappeared to find Callum.

“Come on Jake, let’s get back to the shop.” Milly said, deflated but hopeful.

“I wish I could have seen him, Milly, did he look alright?” Jake asked, worry in his voice.

“He’s very tired, I doubt you get much sleep in a place like this, but he’ll be alright, lad. Maybe he’ll even be home soon. We can hope, anyway.” Milly ushered Jake out into the cold air and couldn’t wait to get back to the warmth and familiarity of her shop. The police station had been so cold, impersonal, and unwelcoming that she needed something warm to get the chill out of her spine.

Milly walked into the welcoming atmosphere of her shop and felt some of the tension easing from her body. The familiar sight and smells always brought a smile to her face and today was no different. She loved the smell of the tea and coffee mingling with the pastries; she loved the curtains in the window that she’d spent months picking out, and she loved the way the wood on the floor gleamed in the sunshine. She loved it all. But it was not the same knowing Callum was locked away. She reminded herself that he could be home at any time now and thought she should prepare something special, just in case. And if he didn’t make it home then Jake would appreciate it; the lad was constantly eating.

Milly wandered into the kitchen to check on whether she had onions or not and stopped as she spotted Edgar resting on a counter. He knew better than that, she thought, as she went over to shoo him away and clean the counter. She was just reaching for a cloth and some disinfectant when she saw he’d been curled around two objects. One was flat, a photograph, and the other a tiny toy mouse. She looked over at the cat wondering where he’d found the objects but knew she’d likely never find out. She could understand why he’d picked up the toy mouse, a tiny little thing no bigger than an actual field mouse, and then slid a finger under the photograph to look closer at it.

Milly let her glasses slide down her nose and brought the picture closer to her face.

“Yes, that’s definitely Maria, but who are those other two people with her?” She wondered aloud. A man, no taller than Milly who was rather short, and a tall, slim, black-haired woman had Maria sandwiched between them. All three were smiling at whoever held the camera and it was obvious they were in some sort of disco with coloured lights sparkling behind them. Milly looked over at Edgar again, wondering if he’d pilfered the picture from the dead woman’s house but she saw no bite marks in the picture. How else could he have carried it home, she wondered?

Putting the picture down, Milly tried to imagine who the people were but gave up because she knew Maria had travelled extensively, the couple may have been fellow holidaymakers in Ibiza, somewhere Milly had never been, for all she knew. She’d hand it over to the solicitor, she decided, then checked on onions and decided a menu for the evening. A chicken pie should fit the bill. Dismissing the whole event, because there really wasn’t much she could do about any of it, Milly went back to preparing food and saw to the  few customers that came in that afternoon. For once she was glad of the few customers and the distraction of losing herself in food preparation.

Later that evening, Milly tried to control her dancing as she prepared an American version of pasta salad a social media friend had told her about. The friend had gone on about it so much that she’d decided to try it with the pie; an odd pairing, perhaps, but she thought it might be nice. As she chopped vegetables and boiled eggs, she lost herself in the music and rhythm of chopping celery and wasn’t paying attention when someone came in the back door.

Milly was so lost that she didn’t even hear the door open or close and was so startled when she felt arms wrapping around her hips that she screamed, threw her arm with the hand holding the knife out, and jumped away all at the same time. “Stay back,” she shrieked at the same moment she realized who the intruder was, and then laid the knife down so she could throw her arms around Callum’s neck.

“Oh my word!
Callum, you’re home!
Oh I could have hurt you, you silly man!” She hugged him tight, stepped back to look at him, and then threw her arms back around him once more. “You’re really here, you are! I’m so glad you’re home!”

“I am, I’m home Milly and hopefully that’s the last of it.” Callum squeezed her tight once more and moved away, looking around. “I thought Jake would be in here with you.”

“He will be shortly; he’s helping Thomas close up for the night. So tell me what happened?” She asked, on edge and worried that the police might change their minds and come back for him. She didn’t know how any of this worked and felt helpless.

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