Downward Facing Death (27 page)

“What about your superior, the one Raquel's been seeing?” Keeley regretted the words as soon as she said them, and was surprised when Ben regarded her with a look of grudging respect.

“I've wondered that myself,” he admitted, “but it doesn't fit with what I know of the man. And I'm not sure their affair is, how can I put it, serious enough to warrant murder, even with the threat of exposure.”

“Then what about looking into her other men? I've seen her out with another man.”

“Another avenue I've looked into. I did take your accusation against her seriously, you know.”

Keeley felt chastened. Not least because Ben had clearly always been one step ahead of her.

“And you turned up nothing?”

“Nothing useful. Anyway, if she's seen out with someone, then it's hardly a secret. I'll be honest with you, Keeley, the whole thing is really starting to get to me. And I'm worried about you.” He looked directly into her eyes, an expression in them that made her blush, though she wasn't sure why.

“About me,” she parroted, feeling not so much scared as quietly thrilled at his admission. Hardly knowing what she was doing, she moved closer to him on the sofa, their gazes still locked. She was holding her breath, a fact she became aware of only when he reached to stroke her cheek and she exhaled with a soft sigh. “Ben,” she began, only to be cut off when his lips brushed hers. She kissed him back, their mouths meeting in a rhythm that was already becoming familiar and, somehow, perfectly natural and correct, as if kissing Ben were something she should really be doing every day, as a matter of course. The thought made her kiss him back even harder, and he made a low, almost growl in the back of his throat and pulled her onto his lap. She gave a surprised laugh, then buried her fingers in his hair, tugging on it a little, feeling both wicked and wanton when he nipped at her lower lip in response.

Maybe it was the shocks she had had that day, or the tension that had been building between her and Ben in one way or another from her first day back in Belfrey, but all Keeley's restraint, her carefully guarded feelings, burst like a dam. In a fluid movement she stood up, watching Ben's look of disappointment change to surprise mixed with desire when she held out her hand to him.

“Shall we go upstairs?”

There was an awful moment when Ben just stared at her, when for a split second she thought that she had gone too far, that he would say no and she would die of embarrassment, but then he stood up and picked her up, right into his arms, and proceeded to carry her up the stairs. Keeley shrieked in delight at his actions, pointing out the way to the bedroom for him with any trace of embarrassment forgotten. As he laid her down, his touch becoming tender, all thoughts of mysterious murderers and poisons blurred into one and were then swiftly eclipsed by Ben's expert hands. For a few hours that evening, then later that night, then again in the early hours of the morning when she awoke to find him next to her and reached for him with a kind of wonder, all her fears were forgotten.

 

Chapter Seventeen

“Morning, beautiful.”

Keeley woke with the sun on her face and Ben smiling down at her, and had to blink a few times to be sure she was truly awake and not having some kind of wish-fulfillment dream. No, she realized with a little thrill, it was all real, and he was there, in her bed, clad only in his underwear and a smile.

“Hey, there.”

Keeley watched him from under her hair as he got up and strode across the room, completely unself-conscious in his near nakedness. Admiring the long lines of his thighs and tight curves of his butt, she pouted with disappointment when he pulled on his jeans.

“I've got to get to work soon,” he said, misreading her pout, “but I've got time for some breakfast, if you like? If vegetarians eat breakfast?”

Keeley laughed. “Of course. How about I make us something?” She couldn't remember the last time she had had a man to cook for in the morning, and being able to make the offer gave her a funny little thrill.
Oh dear,
she thought,
one night with him, and I've turned into a '50s housewife.

Ben looked uncertain. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I like a hearty breakfast, not nuts and seeds and things.”

Keeley glared at him, thoughts of picket fences and marital bliss momentarily forgotten.

“I do eat proper food, you know. You liked my curry last night.”

Ben looked mollified. “I did, it was lovely. Okay, I'm in your hands.”

Keeley sent him down the corner shop for eggs and milk, having used up everything she bought from Diana Glover, and set about chopping mushrooms, onions, and tomatoes for an omelet. With some French bread toast and fresh orange juice, that should send Ben on his way with a full stomach. By the time he came back, she was singing softly to herself. Ben came up behind her, dropping a kiss on the back of her neck that sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

“You sound happy,” he whispered into her ear. Keeley put down her knife and turned to look at him, their faces just inches apart.

“I am,” she said, her voice serious. She was—in fact, she felt happier than she had since coming to Belfrey. She leaned up and kissed him, and lost a few minutes in his arms, until Ben disentangled himself with a frustrated sigh.

“If we carry on like that, I'll never get to work.”

“And you'll never get your breakfast. Sit,” she commanded, waving him toward the kitchen table. Ben did as he was told, never taking his eyes off her.

“So am I,” he said. Keeley frowned, not understanding his meaning.

“Happy. About us.”

“Oh.” Keeley felt herself blush, then grinned as she understood what his words implied.
Us.

They ate in comfortable silence, every so often stopping to grin at each other over the table. Keeley didn't want him to go, for the day to begin, bringing with it the knowledge that they had yet to unravel the mystery. Ben broke the spell first.

“I had a call from Kate while I was walking down to the shop.”

Keeley waited for him to go on, praying there was no more bad news.

“Bambi made it through the night. He's still very poorly, but it looks as though he'll hang in there.”

Keeley breathed out a sigh of relief, along with a little pang of guilt that she had been so wrapped up in Ben that the events of the day before had slipped to the back of her mind.

“It's been confirmed that the meat was poisoned. Not that there was much doubt, but we needed to be sure it wasn't something else that caused the seizures. Apparently he was barking at people in the street just a little while before, which Jack says was most unlike him.”

Keeley nodded, thinking about Bambi's seemingly gentle nature.

“Perhaps it was the crowds. The High Street was very busy yesterday.”

“Maybe. Either way, that meat was definitely left there for him to find. It was laced with an anti-inflammatory painkiller often used to treat arthritis.”

Keeley felt surprised, realizing she had been expecting him to say something like arsenic or cyanide, not something so mundane.

“That could have killed him?”

“According to Rogers, the vet, a lot of everyday medications can be absolutely fatal to dogs, even in small doses.”

“That gives you something to go on, then, doesn't it?” A killer with arthritis, who knows about dogs. It sounded less than sinister even to her own ears. Maybe she was wrong about Bambi's poisoning, and it had nothing to do with the actual murderer, just a neighbor who didn't like dogs.

“Not really. It was an over-the-counter medicine, so it's not as though it would have to been obtained with a prescription. And Rogers regularly gives talks and things on animal care and suchlike. It's not necessarily an indication of specialist knowledge.”

“Plus there's always Google,” Keeley pointed out. She imagined it would be possible to find out anything on the Internet these days. All that potentially dangerous knowledge, available at the click of a button. Ben reached over the table for her hand.

“Whoever is doing all this, I'll figure it out, Keeley. It's personal now. I suppose,” he said, looking away from her, “it's why I was so reluctant to get involved with you at first. I didn't want it to compromise the case. If there's one thing my dad has always drummed into me, it was to never bring work home with you. I guess that's one rule I've decided not to keep.”

Keeley sat back in her chair, taken aback by his little speech. She felt a rush of feeling for him that went far beyond desire.

“You thought about it before? Us getting involved?”

A flush rose on Ben's cheeks, though it was gone so fast, Keeley wasn't sure if she had imagined it.

“As soon as I walked into the Tavern and saw you, and you spat your drink all over me, I knew you were the One.”

He laughed, and Keeley with him, and there were a few more lingering embraces before Ben managed to leave after arranging to pick her up and take her to dinner that evening. But once he had gone, Keeley couldn't help her mind turning to darker things. Ben's declaration that the case had now become personal to him as well drove home to her that, one way or the other, this wasn't likely to end smoothly. Whoever was behind all this was clearly gunning for Keeley herself, for whatever reason, and now with her and Ben developing a relationship, and the opening of the Yoga Café just days away, Keeley understood just how much she now had to lose.

She was reminded of that again later that day as she put the finishing touches to the café itself. She had distributed flyers and leaflets around the local shops, on her guard for any hostility that may possibly mask something more, but it seemed that on the whole, the locals were warming to the idea of the Yoga Café. She was congratulated on her food at the festival the day before, and interest was also growing in her class at the center. She met Megan for lunch, opting to take sandwiches into her friend's shop rather than going to the Tavern as usual, not wanting to see Jack and Bambi's usual place empty. She was bursting to tell her about Ben, but unsure if Megan might think she had somehow been unfair to Duane.

It seemed she had no need to worry, as Megan had something to tell her.

“Apparently Duane's started seeing someone, though he's being very cagey about who it is. You don't mind, do you?”

“Of course not,” Keeley assured her, trying not to make it so obvious that she was, in fact, delighted. “I've got a date with Ben this evening.” For some reason, she wasn't ready to confide in Megan about the previous night. Not that she thought the other woman would be at all judgmental, but it was something still new enough that she wanted to keep it to herself.

“Police officer Ben? Like I needed a crystal ball to see that coming. Lucky you.”

“Thanks.” Keeley felt a warm glow creep through her. Which was halted somewhat by Megan's next words.

“It will put that cow at the diner's nose out of joint, and serve her right for being so mean to you. Everyone in Belfrey knows she's been after Ben for years.”

“Time for her to back off, then,” Keeley said firmly, before changing the subject. She told her what Ben had said about Bambi. Megan nodded thoughtfully.

“When he brings the dog home, I'll pop round with some herbal remedies for him.” Seeing Keeley's dubious expression, she said with a touch of defensiveness, “Dogs react very well to natural medicine. And they're sensitive creatures, you know. He may well be emotionally affected by his ordeal.”

Keeley remembered something else Ben had told her that morning.

“They thought he might have been ill, at first, having some kind of fit. Apparently he was barking at people on the High Street.”

“I was there,” Megan said with a slow nod as she recalled the previous afternoon. “I had not long left you, and I was looking at one of the stalls and I saw Mrs. Rowland. I had just gone over to talk to her when Jack went past with the dog, and he was making a right noise. Scared myself and Mrs. Rowland something terrible.”

“Perhaps he had already eaten some of the poisoned meat and it was starting to take effect,” Keeley mused.

Lunch over, Keeley gave the café one last clean and polish before setting off back home. She was looking forward to her first proper “date” with Ben, even if they had gotten the order of things rather back to front, and was having the predictable panic regarding what she should wear.

She had settled on a polka-dot sleeveless dress that was snug on the top, then flared from her waist to her knees. It was one her mother had bought her, that she had never worn, maybe for that precise reason, but it fit like a dream and made her feel just the right combination of flirty and feminine. She wrestled her hair into something resembling a chic updo, and even opened a new red lipstick she had bought in New York but never had occasion to wear. As she applied it in the mirror, she resolved that she was not going to utter one word that night about murder or arson or poisonings or smelly packages. She would just be a young woman, out on a date with her new boyfriend. Considering they had already spent the night together—and what a night—she felt justified using the word.

The doorbell went, and she nearly smudged her lipstick. Glancing at the clock, she saw he was early. Her heart skipped in her chest as she went to let him in, smoothing her hair one last time.

Her face fell when she opened the door not to Ben but to Annie.

“I just thought I would see how you were, dear, after that awful thing with Mr. Tibbons's dog yesterday.”

Keeley smiled at her, trying not to look disappointed.

“That's very kind of you. I'm just on my way out, actually.” She fidgeted in the doorway, wondering if Annie would be terribly offended if she didn't let her in. But Annie was taking in her outfit and makeup with a knowing smile.