Motive for Murder by Anthea Fraser Read Free Book Online Page A

shoulders and got out of the car, stretching. Mike came round and opened my door. A building loomed in front of us, and Sandra and Derek, arm in arm, were hurrying towards it. He squeezed my arm reassuringly and we set off in their wake.
    Pushing through the door, we emerged from the foggy darkness into a small, crowded bar.
    â€˜I’ll take the coats,’ Mike said, ‘then fight my way to the bar. Derek, you and the girls see if you can find a table.’
    â€˜Willingly!’ Derek took each of us by the arm and steered us across the room to a corner table which a couple was just leaving. His hand was hot, and gripped my bare flesh unnecessarily tightly. We sat down and he leant back in his chair and, much to my discomfort, openly studied me.
    Mike inched his way over to us and set the glasses down. Derek, his eyes still on me, licked his lips with a quick, nervous movement. ‘Well, well!’ he said softly. ‘So this is the new secretary. I must say Matthew can pick them. A pity he doesn’t know what to do with them when he’s got them!’ He gave his light laugh. Embarrassed, I picked up my glass and twirled it in my fingers, my eyes fixed on the pale gold liquid.
    I’d been right in knowing I should dislike Derek. He was good-looking in an obvious, blatantly male way, with a high colour and tight, wavy black hair. His eyes, which should also have been dark, were instead a curious yellow-hazel – like a cat’s – while his lips were disturbingly sensuous, the more so from his habit of constantly licking them. The overall impression was, strangely, one of greed – a grasping, hot-breathed greed. As he turned back to Sandra I gave an involuntary shudder.
    Mike’s hand was warm on my arm. ‘Someone walk over your grave?’ he asked smilingly. I smiled back, shaking my head. ‘Well now, tell me how it’s going. Are you settling down all right? You mustn’t let Matthew bully you, you know.’
    â€˜Everything’s fine; we’ve established a routine now.’
    He grinned at me. ‘I was hoping you’d be over to see the piglets.’
    I said demurely, ‘Nobody invited me.’
    â€˜Well, I’m inviting you now. Any time you’re free, walk over the moor to the farm. If you go on up the hill past Touchstone and follow the track you’ll come to it eventually.’
    â€˜I know.’
    He raised an eyebrow. ‘You know?’
    â€˜I think I saw your car pass one afternoon.’
    â€˜And you didn’t call? I’m hurt!’
    â€˜There wasn’t time,’ I murmured, remembering how I’d wanted to see him.
    He frowned suddenly. ‘There never is. We must make time, Emily.’
    I looked at him in surprise, and he gave a short laugh. ‘Time should be our servant, my sweet, not our master. Bend it to your bidding. It’s later than you think, and all that jazz.’ He laughed again. ‘Don’t look so puzzled, love, you’re too serious by half!’ He flicked his fingers gently against my cheek. ‘Come on, drink up, it’s time we went in for dinner.’
    The dining-room was as crowded and hot as the bar. Our table was beside one of the long windows, curtained now against the depressing night.
    â€˜It’s lovely here in summer,’ Sandra said. ‘The restaurant’s built right out over the sea. There are tables on the balcony and you can see all the lights along the coast.’
    In summer, she had said. Yes, summer was all but over; if I wanted to get in some swimming, I couldn’t afford to waste time. Following on the thought, I said, if it’s fine tomorrow, I think I’ll go down to the beach. Where’s the best place to bathe?’
    Sandra, who had been fiddling with a fork, dropped it with a small clatter on the table. Below the general clamour, the silence which suddenly enveloped our table was electric. I looked up, startled, and