doubt.â
âWell, she might get out of the area altogether, but if Elena is her sister and sheâs close by, I have a hunch sheâll stick around. I might try leaving word at all the local stables. If itâs what she knows, itâs just possible sheâll try again. After all, sheâs got to eat.â
âI can have a word with the one in the village,â Tamzin offered. âAnd also the trekking centre over at Goats Tor. I know Hilary quite well, and sheâs usually looking for staff with Easter coming up.â
âThanks, thatâd be great.â
Tamzin turned back to her chopping board but made no attempt to continue with her preparation.
âWhy are you doing this?â she asked after a moment.
âDoing what?â
She swung back to face him. âGoing to all this trouble to find the girl? I mean, most people would have given up and forgotten about it after this Reynolds guy said she was back home. Why not you?â
Daniel shrugged. âI told you. It just didnât feel right. The more I thought about it, the less I liked it. I couldnât just do nothing.â
âSome people would.â
âYeah, well . . .â Daniel didnât know what to say.
âOK. You donât have to answer this, but what did you really do before you started working for Fred? You said you were a civil servant. Policemen are civil servants, right? Were you a policeman?â
Slowly Daniel nodded. âFor ten years.â
âSo why all the secrecy? Youâre not undercover, are you?â
âNo, nothing like that. Iâm not in the force any more.â
âAm I allowed to ask why? I mean, I thought it was normally a lifelong career thing â a calling.â
âIt is.â The horror, tragedy and humiliation of his last weeks on the force flashed uninvited into Danielâs mind, and with an effort he closed the memories down, saying tersely, âI left. Stress basically.â
Again a half-truth. He was getting too good at those.
âWell, thatâs nothing to be ashamed of. It must be a terribly stressful job,â Tamzin said with a note of relief. âI know I couldnât do it. But I wish youâd told me sooner. I was imagining all sorts of things! I mean, I even wondered if youâd been in prison or something.â
Her easy acceptance of his white lie made Daniel feel uncomfortable, but if the alternative were unpalatable to him, how much more so would it be to her?
When Tamzin and Daniel had finished their meal, they retired to what Tamzin called the snug, but which was in fact the cottageâs only sitting room. There they sat on a blanket-covered leather sofa, wedged between two of Tamzinâs three dogs, drinking wine in front of the small wood-burning stove that heated the whole building. Taz had been brought in from the car and now lay in the doorway, one eye sleepily fixed on his master.
Daniel sighed with rare contentment, and Tamzin slanted a look at him.
âI think thatâs the first time Iâve known you be really relaxed,â she commented. âWhen weâre out anywhere, youâre constantly on the watch. You probably donât know youâre doing it, but your eyes are everywhere. If someone moves, you see it. If someone new comes in, you watch them. It puts me on edge too.â
âGod, I didnât realize I was such bad company,â Daniel said. âSorry. Old habits, I guess.â
âItâs OK now I know. But all the same, itâs good to see you kicking back.â
There was silence for a moment, punctuated by the sound of a log collapsing in the burner.
âWhatâll you do if you find Kat?â Tamzin said then, pulling her feet up on to the sofa and leaning against him.
âI donât know. Iâll have to play it by ear, I guess. If she does turn up, we must be careful not to scare her off again. Best tell people to say nothing
Janet Medforth, Sue Battersby, Maggie Evans, Beverley Marsh, Angela Walker