Free Bricks and Mortality: Campbell & Carter 3 by Granger Ann

was in Portugal at the time of the fire and no one is accusing him of anything.’ She tried to smile but it didn’t work. ‘I don’t know why I said that. I’m shocked, I suppose.’
    ‘Of course you are. Mother must be. I am. Reggie and Serena, too. We all are.’ Petra looked down at her folded hands.
    There was a pause and Kit added ruefully, ‘I’m still blaming him for smashing you both up in that car, but that’s back then. I can’t accuse him of anything more recent.’
    There was a long silence. Petra stared out of the window towards the barn. ‘I must get back to work, Kit. Sorry to hurry you along. But I have got a delivery date for the picture.’
    Kit carried both mugs to the sink where she rinsed them under the tap. Turning, she saw that Petra still sat as she’d left her, staring at the view from the window.
    ‘Petra, if the louse should turn up here …’
    ‘He won’t,’ Petra said curtly. ‘Why should he?’
    ‘He
shouldn’t
, precisely. No decent man would do that. But Gervase lacks basic decency. He was always thick enough and conceited enough.’
    Petra burst into laughter and turned her head towards her sister. ‘If he comes, I’ll ring you and you can rush over here and beat him up.’
    ‘Just you remember, if he does appear, get on the phone straight away. I’ll come immediately. Promise?’ Kit’s voice was sober.
    ‘Sure, yes, I’ll tell you at once. But Kit, he won’t. Tell Mother, if that’s what she’s worrying about, that this is the last place Gervase Crown is going to turn up.’

Chapter 5
    ‘I want to speak to someone. I need to speak to someone now. It’s urgent!’
    The voice was clear, young and well educated. The desk constable for the day, Abby Lang, looked up from the register of lost and found. She’d been trying to collate the two and decide whether the worn engagement-type ring handed in by a conscientious citizen, as found on the pavement outside the Oxfam shop, was the same one as an engagement ring reported lost by an agitated elderly woman three days before. The problem was that the elderly woman had declared her ring to have four diamonds set in platinum and the ring handed in had three stones. Normally that would mean it wasn’t. But the owner of the lost ring had been in a ‘real old sweat about it’, so the desk officer of the day had remarked, adding, ‘She was bit vague, too. You know, dithery, not sure of the time of day if you ask me!’
    Abby closed the book and took measure of the young female visitor who stood before her, hands jammed into the pockets of a leather, or leather-look, full-length coat. Dealing with lost and found had made Abby cautious about descriptions.
    ‘Can I help you?’ she asked automatically.
    The newcomer was about twenty-six or -seven, at Abby’s estimation, slim, short, shiny black hair cut short with a fringe from beneath which glared striking green eyes. Her whole manner bristled. Not aggressive in the drunk-on-Saturday-night way: more ‘I pay my taxes and I expect something for it!’
    ‘Yes, I certainly hope so. I told you, it’s urgent!’ Perhaps it was agitation, not aggression. People sometimes sounded belligerent when they were only frightened.
    ‘What seems to be the problem?’ Abby asked. She was well aware the phrase was well worn, but it served the purpose. Not everyone who came in here declaring they had an insoluble problem that the police must solve at once turned out to have nothing but a lost cat to report.
    ‘I want to report a missing person.’ The words came out in a rush.
    Abby drew a notepad towards her. Not a lost pet, then. But sometimes people are ‘lost’ because they choose to be. ‘Can I have your name and a contact phone number?’
    ‘Sarah Gresham, look, here’s my business card.’ She drew a small white card from one pocket of the leather (or leather-look) coat, and handed it over, Abby read it. Ms Gresham’s card only gave her name, the name of a local bank and