It seemed almost incomprehensible that someone had stolen the photo out of the kitchen while they had both been in the restaurant, but there was no other explanation. The photo had been on the counter and after the door had been opened, it was gone.
That meant that whoever had left it for Olivia, whoever had set the man in the house on Honington Lane on fire, had been close by watching her, and honestly that, above everything else, freaked the crap out of her.
Noah had agreed not to tell Elena or Jamie, accepting that the situation was already difficult to explain and would only upset Elena. As promised though, Olivia did contact DC Upton and told him about the photograph, plus the earlier note and phone call she had received. He had sounded sceptical on the phone, and struggled to hide his suspicion that Olivia was involved in the man’s death in some way when he saw her in person to collect the note, pressing her as though he believed she was sitting on information. He also seemed dubious about the photograph, as if she had made that bit up, and that pissed her off.
After giving her some general safety advice and telling her to contact him if anything else happened, he had left with the note and she hadn’t heard anything since.
Over the next few days, a sense of normality returned. Whoever had been harassing her had stepped back into the shadows, and for that Olivia was relieved. Come Monday she was back at work at the estate agents, and she just wanted to put the whole mess behind her and move on.
But then the burning man’s identity was revealed in the press on Friday.
She knew him.
It was her lodger, Molly, who had spotted the news article while browsing online. ‘His name was Gary Lamb.’
‘His what?’ Olivia was in the kitchen cooking, the radio on, and only heard part of what Molly had said. Leaving the curry she was making to simmer, she stuck her head round the living room door. ‘What did you say? I didn’t hear you.’
Molly glanced up from the armchair where she sat, her feet tucked under her. Her blue eyes were sombre. ‘The man you found. They’ve released his identity. It says here he was called Gary Lamb.’
She continued to read the article and Olivia heard the words ‘foreman’ and ‘divorced’, but she had pretty much zoned out. She had gone to high school with a Gary Lamb, and although she hadn’t seen him since leaving school, her mind was back in the kitchen of 8 Honington Lane, remembering the look in those terrified brown eyes. He had aged, put on weight and started to lose his hair, but she knew. It had been him.
‘Livvy, are you okay?’ Molly’s voice brought her back and she found her lodger looking at her with concern.
‘I think I went to school with him.’
‘You knew him?’
‘Is there a picture?’
‘Yeah, a small one. Hang on, let me see if I can blow it up.’ Molly fiddled with her phone then handed it over.
Olivia stared at the picture, the wafting smell of the curry, that just moments ago had her stomach growling, now making her feel sick, the background noise from the radio irritating rather than entertaining. Yes, she knew Gary from the picture, recognising those narrowed hooded eyes and the pinched expression.
Had Gary’s killer known they had gone to school together?
It was too coincidental to believe otherwise.
Which suggested this terrible thing Olivia was supposed to have done had happened when she had been in her early teens.
They had gone to school together, but they didn’t hang out, their paths barely crossing. Gary had been a popular kid, though he had a mean streak. He certainly hadn’t been in Olivia’s circle of friends.
‘Are you all right?’ Molly took back her phone, studying Olivia carefully. ‘Maybe you should sit down. Do you want me to get you a glass of water?’
‘I’m okay.’
Molly frowned, her expression concerned. ‘You don’t look okay. Look, sit down. I’ll get you some water.’
Olivia nodded, dropping down onto the sofa. ‘Thank you.’
Her lodger had been a lifesaver since her break-up with Toby. She had initially been dubious about her friend moving in, worrying that the close proximity might destroy the easy-going relationship they shared, but the mortgage had been too much to afford on her own salary, and Molly had turned out to be the perfect lodger; discreet, pragmatic, considerate and always on time with the rent money. Plus, she had made the big house feel less empty.
‘Should you make the police aware that you knew the victim?’ she asked now, handing Olivia the glass.
‘I will. I’ll call DC Upton in the morning.’
Seeing Gary Lamb’s face had brought everything flooding back. Olivia had woken a couple of times during the week in the middle of a nightmare where she was back in the kitchen watching him burn, but the constant loop playing in her head had gradually started to fade. Her mother wanted her to see a counsellor, to talk through the trauma, but Olivia was pretty certain that given time she could conquer this by herself. People suffered through far worse every day, like her mother’s friend, Jill, who had been mugged at knifepoint, or that girl who was dating her friend Tom’s brother. Lola or Lila something. She had survived a car accident then nearly been murdered. Those were the people who needed counselling. Yes, Olivia had seen something horrible, but it hadn’t actually involved her.
Liar, a little voice in her head whispered, as she tried to ignore the killer’s attempt to contact her.
She must have appeared shocked at the news of the victim’s identity because Molly was looking at her with sympathy all over her face. ‘Tell you what, how about I pour you a glass of wine and you can sit here and get to grips with all of this while I go finish dinner?’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I want to. Let me help you, Livvy.’
‘Thank you.’ Molly was a bloody good friend and Olivia would make it up to her. She picked up her phone as Molly disappeared back into the kitchen, fired off a quick message to Noah.
They identified the man I found. I know him.
His reply didn’t take long.
Coming over.
He showed up just as they finished eating. Olivia hadn’t mentioned to Molly that she had messaged Noah, knowing she wasn’t a fan. Olivia was clearing the table, her hands full, when the doorbell rang, followed by impatient knocking. Luna, who had been snoozing on the other end of the sofa, woke with a start and fled for the stairs.
‘I’ll get it,’ Molly yelled from the kitchen, her voice travelling over the sound of Phil Collins, and Olivia heard the bells on Molly’s slippers jingling as she went to the door, leaving her no time to intervene.
Sod it. Molly and Noah were both important people in her life and they were going to have to find a way to get along.
‘Oh, it’s you.’
‘Hi, Molly. You’re looking lovely this evening. That black jumper really brings out the colour in your eyes.’
‘Fuck you.’
So that plan worked well.
Olivia stepped into the hallway, ready to referee. Molly scowled as she took the dirty plates from her. ‘I’ll go sort these. Looks like you have company.’ She threw a scathing look at Noah, who didn’t help matters by insolently grinning at her as he kicked his boots off.
‘Molly! Damn it,’ Olivia snapped in exasperation. ‘Just wait a second.’
Ignoring her, Molly stomped off down the hallway to the kitchen, the stomping made slightly ridiculous by the large rabbit slippers she wore on her feet.
‘I think she secretly likes me.’
‘Really? That’s what you think?’ Olivia closed the door and followed Noah through into the living room where he was already making himself comfortable in the spot vacated by the cat. Other than DC Upton, he was the only one who knew about the killer’s attempts to contact her, was certainly the only one who believed her. ‘Luna was just sitting there. You’re gonna have a hairy arse.’
He looked at her solemnly. ‘How do you know I don’t already have one?’
Olivia’s eyes widened momentarily, before the grin broke on his face and she realised he was joking. She couldn’t help smiling back as she went to join him on the sofa. ‘Clown. I told you not to wind Molly up.’
‘Sorry. She bites too easily.’
Perhaps she did, but Noah played on that. Had done ever since he had started picking up on Molly’s frostiness towards him, which had been worse since Olivia had become involved with him. Molly, for whatever reason, was put out and made continual digs at Noah, which led to Noah calling her the grim reaper, because she mostly wore black. She hadn’t forgiven him for that, and had made her feelings known to Olivia that she thought her friend had shitty taste in men.
It was an awkward position to be in and Olivia had tried to play peacemaker, but Molly and Noah were both strong-willed and she despaired of the pair of them.
‘Anyway, enough about Molly. How are you holding up?’ He smoothed a hand over her hair, lips curving as he pulled her close for a lingering kiss that completely scrambled her brain.
She had fancied Noah Keen the moment she had laid eyes on him, when he had shown up in the restaurant one day with Jamie. The pair of them were friends and Noah had done Jamie a deal on some new security cameras for the restaurant. He was six foot one of lean, tanned ruggedness with an infectious grin and sharp green eyes that didn’t miss a beat, and when Jamie had introduced them and Noah had smiled at her, he had sucker-punched her right in the gut.
Olivia had sworn off men. She had been with Toby for eleven years before he cheated on her and other than that, only had under her belt one disastrous alcohol-fuelled fail at a one-night stand. Both were enough to put her off. Noah had flipped her ideas of remaining celibate on its head, and she was both tongue-tied and flustered in his presence.
He was so easy-going that her initial awkwardness had quickly thawed, and they had eased into a steady friendship. Yes, she fancied him, thought she had given off enough signals, but he never once reciprocated. There was no wedding ring, no mention of girlfriends or boyfriends, yet he seemed to want to spend time in her company. That had changed about six weeks ago and although neither of them had yet defined what was going on between them, they had been fairly inseparable since.
He eased away from her now, his expression serious. ‘We need to talk about your message.’
‘Molly doesn’t know about the note or the photo.’ Olivia kept her tone down. ‘I’d rather keep it that way, okay?’
‘We can go down the pub if you want. Or upstairs.’
Olivia considered that. She wasn’t really up for the pub, but they could go upstairs. It would give Molly the living room back. Her friend had been so good to her these last few days. It would be a token gesture. ‘Okay, upstairs.’ Seeing the corner of Noah’s mouth curve into a grin, she added. ‘To talk, Romeo.’
‘Of course.’
‘Do you want a coffee?’
‘I could use a beer.’
‘There’s some bottles of Heineken in the fridge.’
‘Sold.’
‘Go upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute.’
Molly was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher and Olivia felt a pang of guilt as she topped up her wine glass and grabbed Noah’s beer. ‘Thank you for sorting dinner. We’re gonna go upstairs and get out of your way. Living room is all yours.’
Molly continued to rinse and stack the plates. She didn’t turn round. ‘No need to do that. It’s your house,’ she muttered stiffly.
‘It is, but you live here too. We’ll go upstairs. You can have Netflix if you want.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Give him a chance, Molly. Please, for me?’
Molly’s shoulders tensed as she stopped what she was doing. Still though she refused to turn. ‘Just be careful, Livvy.’
