Page 67 of Death on the Rocks

“I think so. Still a bit shocked.” She glanced at the ferry, trying to comprehend the morning’s events. “You get going though. I might just go for a walk or something.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.” She’d forgotten about that. The week seemed to have gone by in a blink, and the thought of leaving made her stomach feel heavy.

“I might not see you again.” Oscar looked at her sadly, then surprised her by gathering her into a hug. “Thanks for everything,” he said before flashing her a bashful smile and striding away.

“Bye,” she muttered, ignoring the way her stomach tightened even further.

Oscar was barely out of her sight when a familiar voice called Lily’s name. Seren and Kit were walking hastily towards her.

“Are you okay?” Seren asked, placing a hand on Lily’s forearm. “We heard the police ordered the ferry to stop, and that someone was arrested. Something to do with that guy who fell from the cliff.”

Lily nodded. “I stopped a killer from getting away,” she said, the words sounding strange, but also giving her a distinct tingle of pride. After spending half the week doubting herself, it felt good to find that she hadn’t been going completely crazy. She laughed at the shocked expressions of Seren and Kit.

“You?” Kit asked. “You stopped a killer?”

“Yeah.” She couldn’t stop grinning now. “I did. With just a little help from PC Grainger.”

Seren’s eyebrows rose steadily upwards. “Why do I feel this story needs to be told over drinks?”

Lily checked her watch, having lost all sense of time. It wasn’t quite midday, but it also wasn’t far off. “I could definitely use a drink,” she said. “And food. I haven’t eaten anything today.”

“Right.” Seren linked her arm through Lily’s. “We’re getting you food and a drink. And then you can tell us everything.”

“It might take a while,” Lily said, thinking back on all that had happened over the last week.

“We have time,” Seren said, as the three of them set off walking toward the pub.

Chapter Forty-Two

Sergeant Proctor burstinto the police station just as Flynn was walking back out from the cells. With Marc locked up, he thought he would finally get a moment to breathe, but judging by the sergeant’s strained expression, that probably wasn’t going to happen.

“What the hell is going on?” he fumed. “I heard the ferry was delayed. And the rumour is it was delayed because of a police request.”

“A rumour?” Flynn asked, certain that Sergeant Proctor wouldn’t rely on gossip.

“I heard it from the captain himself,” he spat.

“Hardly a rumour then,” Flynn pointed out, taking a seat at his desk. Now that he had a criminal in custody, he was less concerned about Sergeant Proctor’s reaction to the events of the day. Crimes had been committed and Flynn had acted accordingly. The sergeant might have his feathers ruffled for not being involved, but there was no official reason for him to reprimand Flynn.

“Don’t get smart with me,” the sergeant snarled. “I told you to leave things be, and you’ve gone off on some wild quest because you don’t understand how small-town policing works.You just want drama, and I can tell you now that you won’t find it here.”

Flynn waited patiently for him to finish his rant. “I got a confession,” he said casually.

“You got what?” Sergeant Proctor’s features scrunched up. “A confession from who? About what?”

“From Marc Collins. He confessed to being involved in the death of Mr Vincent Roth.”

The sergeant’s eyes bulged, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Where is he now?” he finally asked.

“In cell one.” Flynn tilted his head in that direction.

“I’m assuming you read him his rights?” The tone of his voice suggested that he actually assumed the opposite. If he genuinely thought him that incompetent, there was no wonder he resented having him around.

“Yes,” Flynn said through gritted teeth.

“Bloody hell.” Sergeant Proctor started towards the cells.

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