Classic Mistake by Amy Myers Read Free Book Online Page B

you agree, Mr Colby?’
    I did. I wouldn’t claim that owners grow to look like their cars, but they certainly acquire a relationship with them that goes beyond paying the maintenance bills. Gran then advanced towards me and, still stunned at this apparition, I shook her hand.
    ‘Tell me what this lead is on Melody,’ she demanded.
    ‘Not a strong one.’ I borrowed Brandon’s get-out. ‘Early days.’
    She regarded me scornfully. ‘To find a
Rose Taupe
Morris Minor?’
    ‘Yes.’
    She looked at me keenly and nodded. ‘Don’t leave it too long. Subject closed.’
    Now, I thought, for the scarlet beauty. ‘Is this Thunderbird yours?’
    ‘It is. Rest assured I gave up car theft years ago.’
    My admiration grew. She wasn’t in her forties, she might be in her seventies, but I liked
her
style. ‘Had it long?’
    ‘Two years. I thought, why not? I’ve always wanted one, and Melody was on the small side for me. I love this red beast.’ She patted the Thunderbird lovingly.
    I could see that she did. I wondered whether Kent’s small lanes would cherish it as much as she did, however. Passing places are for normal-size cars not this monster, delightful though it was. The 1958 model was the first of the larger four-passenger models, and Len and Zoe had already shot out to inspect its innards.
    ‘Where do you live?’ I asked Gran curiously. ‘California?’
    ‘No. Out near Wormslea on the Downs,’ she said blithely. ‘I need a car to get around.’
    She was right. Wormslea is a very small village and probably the nearest it ever got to public transport was the First World War landing ground on its outskirts. A Thunderbird nearby must be livening up its life considerably.
    ‘It was either this or a horse and cart,’ she explained. ‘The folks at my current residence would have found that difficult to cope with. Now, young man,’ she addressed me briskly, ‘I hear you have a Gordon-Keeble and a Lagonda. And this restoration garage. I need to see them all. Do you tweet?’
    ‘Sometimes, but—’
    ‘I’ll follow you. Blog?’
    ‘Yes, but—’
    ‘I’ll guest for you. Regularly, if you wish. Now, Daisy tells me you need me, so I came immediately. Besides, I thought you might like Juno.’
    ‘Who?’ I was thrown again.
    She looked at me pityingly. ‘No education nowadays. Thunderbird. Juno, goddess. Wife of Jupiter the Thunderer.’
    I laughed. ‘Stupid of me. Yes, I did want to meet you. Daisy tells me you knew the May Tree and the Charros band.’
    She looked at me speculatively. ‘You could say that. The murder. I thought as much. It was your wife that Carlos Mendez ran off with.’
    ‘Yes. How well did you know the May Tree?’
    She looked somewhat bewildered. ‘Very well, thanks. I co-owned it with my husband.’
    ‘James Fever?’ I reeled. ‘You bought the May Tree after Tony Wilson went inside?’
    ‘Correct. I’m Belinda Fever, known to the band as the Feverbird. I bought Melody after James died. He’d have loved her
and
Juno. The father of Daisy’s young man now owns the pub.’
    ‘
Not
my young man,’ Daisy said belligerently.
    ‘Nonsense,’ Gran informed her. ‘You’re ideally suited. I
like
Justin.’
    Diplomacy was clearly not Gran’s strong point. ‘Carlos Mendez,’ I said firmly to get back on track.
    ‘I could do with a coffee.’
    This took some time, and we were sitting in the garden together with refreshments by the time Gran Belinda was ready to impart whatever information she had. I was beginning to fear that was very little.
    ‘So you’re in the frame for Carlos’s murder, Jack?’ Belinda obviously believed in getting right to the point.
    ‘Half in, half out. My ex-wife came down here to join Carlos.’
    ‘And now you want to find out all you can about Carlos and the Charros. Didn’t you know the band at the time?’
    ‘No. I was too busy babysitting – the May Tree must have been Eva’s territory.’
    ‘Ah. I see now.’ She nodded thoughtfully.