Page 18 of Death on the Rocks

“Like who?”

Lily tipped her head toward the voices from the living room.

“I spoke to them,” PC Grainger pointed out.

“Did you tell Sergeant Proctor about it?”

“I gave him the highlights. Is there something in particular you think I should have told him?”

Lily shrugged. “Alanna had recently argued with him,” she said. “Mr Miller had also been unhappy with him. You saw them arguing yesterday?”

His lips barely shifted, but his amusement was clear in the sparkle in his eyes. He leaned forwards and whispered. “Are you suggesting Mr Miller killed him because he complained about burnt bacon?”

“No.” Lily’s lips pulled into a wide smile and the accompanying warmth in her belly felt like a relief after the sombre morning. “Sorry,” she said, realising how she mustsound. “I only really wondered what the procedure was. My imagination might have flipped into overdrive for a moment.”

His smile was warm and friendly. “It’s my experience that when something looks like an accident, nine times out of ten, that’s exactly what it is.”

She nodded, feeling silly.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mrs Miller said, appearing in the doorway. “How are you getting on in here?”

“We’re all done,” PC Grainger said.

“Great.” She opened the door wider. “I just realised no one has had breakfast. I don’t suppose anyone really feels like a proper meal, but I thought I could get some bacon sandwiches going.” She made her way across the room. “You’d both eat one, wouldn’t you?”

They nodded and she continued into the kitchen. Lily wondered if PC Grainger was also thinking about their previous conversation.

She was biting back a grin when he leaned in. “She better not burn the bacon,” he whispered. “I can’t be held responsible for my actions if she does.”

Lily covered her mouth as a laugh escaped her. Her eyes widened and she tried to reprimand him with a stern look. “You can’t say that!”

“Sorry,” he said, not looking remotely remorseful. “Copper’s humour. You have to find ways to make light of stuff or you go crazy.”

“It’s a little inappropriate, though.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “You started it by suggesting Mr Miller had committed murder over burnt bacon.”

“Over a bad review, actually,” she said. “But I see your point.”

When he said it back to her, it did sound fairly absurd.

Chapter Twelve

For the firsttime since he'd arrived on the island, Flynn's day didn't drag at all. It was something he missed about his old life – being so busy that time slipped by without notice.

He spent the entire morning at the Miller’s place, piecing together Vinny's final movements while also attempting to keep everyone calm. Lily had been the easiest on that score. Once she got over the shock of finding the body, she seemed to take it all in her stride. Or perhaps it was the contrast with Alanna's hysterics which made Lily seem so cool.

Back at the station, he wrote up his report, and Lily’s statement, while his ears pricked up frequently to listen in on Sergeant Proctor's phone calls. That seemed to be the most effective way for him to keep abreast of everything to do with today’s incident. He’d tried the more traditional approach of speaking to his superior, but that mostly felt like conversing with a moody teenager.

“Couldn’t have been worse timing,” Sergeant Proctor muttered following a particularly drawn-out coughing fit. It had occurred to PC Grainger a couple of times to suggest the sergeant went back home to bed, but he imagined it wouldn’t bea welcome suggestion – not coming from Flynn, anyway – so he held his tongue.

“Excuse me?” Flynn asked, noticing the sergeant was looking at him expectantly. He hadn’t even registered that the words were directed at him.

“I said it’s terrible timing.” He paused and Flynn pondered how to respond. Being spoken to by Sergeant Proctor without him barking orders at him was something of a novelty. “What with PC Hill off ill. I could’ve done with him around today.”

“Is there something else you’d like me to do?” Flynn offered.

“No,” the sergeant snapped. “There’s also not a lot we can do at the moment. We can’t move the body off the island until this weather clears, and it’s looking as though the fog might hang around for a day or two.” He erupted into another coughing fit, and Flynn noticed the sheen of sweat across his forehead. Again, he refrained from suggesting he go home to bed.

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