Page 11 of Death on the Rocks

Lily shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Ooh!” Seren’s eyes widened and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “Maybe it was her who stole the camera!”

Keira’s burst of laughter cut through the atmosphere. “You sound like a bunch of conspiracy theorists! Flora Miller hasn’t turned to crime.”

“It actually sounds quite believable to me.” Seren looked at Kit. “Do you think we watch too many crime dramas?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Maybe.”

Over the next hour, Lily enjoyed the light-hearted chatter and banter with her three new friends. At one point she considered raising the subject of the ice cream shop again. Only briefly though – until she realised that for the first time in a long time she felt utterly relaxed. She was enjoying being sociable and that certainly wasn’t a regular occurrence for her.

After six months of being consumed by the idea of finding the ice cream shop, it felt good to be distracted.

She knew herself well enough to know she wouldn’t be able to put it out of her mind indefinitely.

But at least for the evening, she was putting the mystery of the ice cream shop aside.

Chapter Seven

SUNDAY

On her secondmorning on St Mary’s, Lily woke to the sound of rain pelting the window like hundreds of tiny bullets. The noise died off as the wind changed direction but she was fully awake, a gentle headache informing her she shouldn’t have had that third glass of wine in the Mermaid Inn.

Lying in bed, listening to the rain, her thoughts were once again on the ice cream shop. A weariness seemed to pin her to the bed but she knew she couldn’t drop her enquiries just yet. She’d visit the solicitor Kit had mentioned, and if he couldn’t tell her anything more, she was determined to set it aside and move on with her life.

That would mean figuring out what to do with her life, of course.

With a frustrated growl, she tossed the bedclothes aside and stretched as she stood. A run should help clear her head. After pulling on her jogging gear, she listened at the door to check the coast was clear. The last thing she wanted was anotherencounter with Vinny. When she was confident there was no one around, she set off out of the house.

The weather should probably have dissuaded her from her early morning jog, but the rain and wind had stopped by the time she stepped outside. Now, a low-hanging fog gave the deserted lanes an eerie quality that pushed Lily to run at a faster pace than usual. She didn’t see a soul until she reached Hugh Town where a few people gave life to the main street.

It wasn’t as though she expected to find the solicitor’s office open at that time, and especially not on a Sunday, but she ended up standing in front of it, nonetheless. Shaking her head, she chastised herself again for getting obsessed with an ice cream shop from her childhood. There was no significance to the place, she told herself, trying to override the voice in her head that said there was a reason the memory had stayed with her.

After a deep inhale, she continued on her way, opting for a gentler pace as she joined the coastal path for her final stretch back towards the B&B. The early morning stillness made her uneasy, and she was glad when the silence was broken by the screech of gulls who didn’t appear to be any more impressed than she was by the fog hanging out over the water and shrouding the path in front of her.

It got suddenly denser before clearing again, and the sound of Lily’s trainers pounding the path seemed to echo all around. Trying to ignore the rushing in her ears, she concentrated on the uneven path, sure that any moment now, the B&B would come into view.

Rounding the next bend, a short stretch of golden sand greeted her and the surroundings became familiar. It was the beach which she could see from her window at the B&B. At the far end of the beach, colossal boulders loomed ominously. Still, Lily felt more at ease now that she knew where she was. A little further and she’d be back at the house.

Instead of veering up to the lane, she remained on the sandy path, slowing her pace to walk over the sand to the shoreline. The water, which had been such an inviting shade of turquoise the previous day, was dark and unwelcoming now. She dragged the zip of her hoodie up to her chin and heaved in huge lungfuls of sea air as the damp sand shifted under her weight. At the far end of the beach, she took a moment to watch the water gently lapping at the rocks.

A dark shape caught her eye just as she was turning away.

“It’s nothing,” she said, trying to quell the primal part of her that was on alert for a threat. The fog and the dim morning light were playing tricks on her mind, she was sure of it.

Despite her trepidation, she walked forwards, stepping onto the rocks beneath the imposing boulders. Squinting, she tried to make out exactly what she was looking at. Probably some washed up piece of rubbish.

The closer she got, the more frenzied her heart beat became. She wasn’t sure when she admitted to herself that her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

And that what she was seeing was a body lying face down in a rock pool.

Chapter Eight

The computer screenin front of PC Grainger showed the social media page for the station. He’d been replying to a post about inconveniently parked golf buggies before he’d zoned out.

Now, the shrill ring of the phone snapped him from his trance. Expecting it to be a call following up on the golf cart situation, he hesitated before answering.

“Scilly police station,” he said, rubbing the creases on his forehead. “PC Grainger speaking.”

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