Free The Song Never Dies by Neil Richards

ever?”
    Then Sarah turned back to him.
    “So, tonight?”
    “Well, you haven’t done any online digging into these people’s lives, right?”
    “No. Not yet.”
    “See what secrets you can find. Think you can work your magic?”
    “After I get dinner on the table, I’ll do my best. Kids are going to be eating late tonight. And what will you be up to?”
    “Sally also told me — well, I actually asked — if she knew where Carlton might be this evening. She told me. Couldn’t imagine him putting up with the soggy meals the hotel serves.”
    Then Sarah too knew where Carlton Flame would be going.
    For dinner. Tonight.
    “The Spotted Pig?”
    “He has a reservation for 7.”
    “But you will be joining him?”
    Jack nodded. “Not to eat. Just a few questions while he enjoys the best meal in Cherringham.”
    Sarah looked at her watch, and stood up. “Not long from now. And I’d better dash. Let’s talk after I’ve done some searching.”
    “I’ll call you as soon as Mr. Flame and I have had our chat.”
    Sarah nodded. “Ask him about the song. He just might know something …”
    “Sure hope so. Otherwise—”
    Jack reached down and tried to offer Riley a bit of the fish, but he turned his snout at it.
    “—we have nothing.”
    “We’ll talk,” Sarah said, and then walked out of the Goose’s saloon, up onto the deck, the setting sun making the meadows look golden.
    And despite Jack’s confidence … she wasn’t at all sure she’d find anything, about anybody, online.
    Sometimes the magic didn’t work.

12. Not quite the Spotted Pig
    Jack had to park his Sprite in the car park, down where the High Street led out to the net of roads that circled Cherringham.
    Village must be busy tonight, Jack thought. People converging on the pubs, the Pig probably fully booked.
    Hint of summer to come in the night air.
    And as he walked up the hill, with still a bit of deep blue sky ahead, some puffy white clouds above, the days finally growing long again …
    … he thought of how he’d approach Flame.
    He only knew of agents by their reputation.
    The word ‘agent’ summoned descriptions like avaricious, sneaky, ambitious.
    All traits that Jack might find useful in his chat.
    He got to the Pig, the place as always looking so inviting from the outside. But he didn’t go straight in.
    Parked right outside the restaurant, Jack saw a big black Range Rover Sport.
    He walked round the vehicle and checked the plate.
    Thirty years a cop — Jack had a good memory for plates.
    Almost unconsciously he’d stored the number of the Range Rover that had mysteriously appeared at Kingfishers when he and Sarah had visited Gail King.
    This was the same vehicle.
    He stepped back onto the pavement but stayed in the shadows, outside the square of light that spilled from the Spotted Pig out onto the street.
    From there, Jack could see into the whole restaurant. The place was full.
    No surprise there — even midweek.
    But a well-built man sat alone at a small table by the front left window, his back to the street. Even this close to the window, Jack knew that out here in the darkness he would be invisible to the diners.
    But he could see every detail he needed to make an ID.
    The guy wore jeans and a dark, pin stripe jacket. Cuffs with red-jewelled links. And on one wrist — what looked like a Rolex.
    But the clincher was the long, grey ponytail with a silver guitar clasp that Jack saw reaching half way down the man’s back.
    Not your average Cherringham look on a Thursday night out.
    There was no doubt about it — this must be Carlton Flame.
    A second chair faced the lone diner.
    Jack was just about to walk into the restaurant when he saw a figure approaching from further up the High Street.
    A figure he recognised.
    Gail King.
    Jack casually pulled the collar of his coat high and crossed the street, staying in the shadows.
    He watched Gail enter the restaurant and go straight to Flame’s table.
    Flame stood, embraced