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Flynn tapped his pen against his notepad. “We heard you weren’t happy about shortening your holiday when Joseph wanted to go back to St Ives.”
“Of course we weren’t happy!” Kerry shook her head. “It was selfish of him. Just because he didn’t want to continue, there was no need to spoil things for the rest of us. He could haveflown home and we’d have sorted out selling his share of the boat later.”
“Kerry,” her husband said, shooting her a warning glance. “The man’s dead. Have some respect.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was fond of Joseph, but I don’t see the need to make a saint of him. He had his faults. Let’s not pretend he didn’t just because he’s dead.”
Vic heaved in a breath and eyed the sergeant. “Joyce mentioned we’d need to stay on the island until James arrives.”
“He wants to view his father’s body and go through his possessions on the boat,” the sergeant said.
“That makes sense,” Vic said. “I suppose we might continue our trip as planned.”
Kerry shifted in her seat. “Do you think so?” she asked her husband. “Wouldn’t it feel wrong to go off on holiday now?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “We’ll also have to figure out what happens with the boat. I imagine James owns Joseph’s share now. Maybe he’ll sell to Russell.”
“He seems keen to come out here anyway,” the sergeant said. “If it’s fine with you, I think the best thing would be for you to wait for him.”
“We’ll see if we can get rooms at the hotel again,” Kerry said to her husband. “I don’t want to be around the harbour thinking about Joseph in the water every time I pass.”
“We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions,” the sergeant said, bringing the conversation to a close. “Thanks for your help.”
Flynn escorted them out, then headed back to the sergeant who’d returned to his office.
“All seems straightforward,” Flynn said.
“Yeah.” The sergeant straightened papers on his desk. “We’ll need to wait for the post-mortem, but I imagine DoctorRedwood’s initial assessment of accidental drowning will be confirmed.”
Flynn was at the door, intent on doing a lunch run, when he stopped. “I forgot to mention that Lily messaged me. She saw Joseph Whittaker yesterday evening when she was closing up the shop. It must have been when he’d left the pub to go for a walk.”
Sergeant Proctor’s face broke into a broad grin. “Do you reckon anything will ever happen around here without her being involved somehow?”
“He just called into her shop,” Flynn said amused.
“Make sure the timeline fits with what we know so far.”
“Will do.”
“Lunch first, though!” he called after him.
Chapter Seven
Lily still wasn’t usedto the gossip which seemed to be a natural part of living in a small community. Generally, she found it amusing, but today it irritated her.
As the day wore on, she got sick of overhearing customers chatting about Joseph’s death. It wasn’t as though people were saying anything disrespectful, but several times she caught an odd flicker of uneasy delight when people talked about it – as though it was an exciting titbit to be thrown around with little thought for the person or his family.
Flynn had replied to her message, and they’d had a short back and forth, which included him saying he’d come and see her when things quietened down at the station. Every time the bell jingled above the door, she looked up for him. By the middle of the afternoon, she needed a change of scenery and left Jessica alone to take a break out on the gusty beach.
The cadence of the waves didn’t soothe her as it usually did, and squawking seagulls made her grit her teeth and mutter unfriendly instructions for them to shut up.
After walking barefoot for a hundred metres, she sat on the sand, hugging her knees and staring bleakly at the horizon.
“There you are.” Flynn’s voice pulled her from her trance a little while later. “Jessica said you probably weren’t far away.”
“I needed to get out for a while,” she said, not looking at him.
“You okay?” he asked, looming above her.