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D etective Chief Inspector Liam Nash parked at the bottom of my drive and got out of his car, accompanied by Detective Sergeant Meera Patel. A couple of patrol cars pulled in behind him as they made their way up to the house.

“Hi, Liam,” I said. I was sitting on the doorstep beside Kevin, who still hadn’t let go of Phil. Phil had his head on Kevin’s shoulder and was snoring like a drunk lumberjack with sleep apnoea.

“Charlie.”

“So,” I said.

“So.”

“Another dead guy in a box,” I said. “What are the odds?”

“Better than I like, it would seem.” He glanced down at Kevin. “He all right?”

“I’m not sure. Probably not, no.”

As soon as I’d called the police, I’d sat beside Kevin and put my arm around his tense shoulders. He’d pressed against me and muttered sorry a few times, but other than that, he didn’t seem to be up for conversation. I hadn’t pushed it.

I didn’t have much to say, either.

I was pretty sure we were both in shock.

“Let’s get him checked out,” Liam said with a nod at his sergeant. DS Patel lifted her chin at him and strolled away, talking quietly on her radio. “While we’re at it, we may as well go ahead and get you checked out.” He eyed me. “You don’t look too good.”

“I wonder why?” I said, heavy on the sarcasm.

Liam grunted. “Right.” Two uniformed officers skipped eagerly up the drive to join the party.

Big exciting day for them, I supposed. It wasn’t every day a dead body showed up in Chipping Fairford.

In fact, to my knowledge, the last time a dead body showed up in Chipping Fairford was four years ago, when Ray’s dad dug up the clown.

Was finding a dead cowboy better or worse than finding a dead clown?

“Do you need me to come inside with you?” I asked. Kevin’s arm around my waist spasmed. “Just me,” I told him, and absently kissed the side of his head. “You don’t have to come in.” I looked up at Liam. “He doesn’t, does he?”

“He doesn’t have to, but I’d like him to. It might be a good idea to sit somewhere more comfortable—and private—while I do the official thing and take your statements. We can have a nice cup of tea while we’re at it.”

I raised a brow.

“Nice cup of coffee,” he amended.

”Sure. We can do that.” I stood up. “Come on, Kevin.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he sighed and stood beside me.

“Maybe you should put Phil down?” I suggested gently.

He did it just in time. Phil snorted awake, spotted Liam, and had a little gambol around about it. Cuddles, naps, Kevin and now Liam? Phil was having the best day!

Nice that someone was.

Liam ushered us inside, aided and abetted by Phil who was always happy to herd people.

The uniforms stayed outside.

I fussed around in the kitchen making drinks while Liam and DS Patel went upstairs. Liam came back down on his own.

I was in the middle of steaming some milk and decided Liam could wait while I quickly made Kevin a latte with his usual heart on it. I took it over to him and set it on the kitchen table. He was slumped in his chair, his gaze distant.

I turned to Liam and put my hands on my hips. “What’ll it be?” I asked him.

“Why don’t you sit down and?—”

“Do you want a latte? Cappuccino? Americano? Tea, if you must?”

“Charlie—”

“I’ve got almond milk, regular milk, oat milk. If you insist on tea, I’ve got peppermint, English Breakfast, and Lady Grey. Not that I ever drink it myself. It’s good to have in for guests.” Suzanne Lawson liked English Breakfast. Pippa was all about her Lady Grey. The peppermint was for my indigestion.

Liam glanced at where I was drumming my fingers on the counter by the Gaggia. “Americano sounds great,” he said.

Americano. Yes. I knew that. His order was always an Americano.

He went and sat across from Kevin at the table and brought out a laptop, which he set to one side. I couldn’t hear much of their conversation over the noise of my machine. By the time I’d made Liam’s Americano, made a couple more and ran them outside on a tray with milk and sweeteners for the appreciative constables, called up to Meera and got her order, and then made one for myself, the paramedics had shown up and Kevin was gazing into space, having his blood pressure taken.

The rest of the afternoon and on into the evening blurred after that.

Liam took our statements, typed them up on his laptop and had us digitally sign them.

People came and went, banging up the stairs and creaking about overhead, then banging back down.

I made more coffee.

Kevin didn’t touch his latte. I made him another one.

We were both given stern instructions not to talk about it down the pub, or at the gym, or in the coffee shop, as it was an open investigation, and then Liam told me that if I wanted anything from my room, I should tell Constable Katie Jones, and she’d grab it for me and pack me a bag.

“A bag?” I said blankly. “Why?”

“Forensics is still processing your room. You can’t sleep here tonight.”

Is…? Is the cowboy still here?” I was sure that I’d seen someone being stretchered out earlier. I’d only caught a glimpse of the activity through the kitchen doorway into the hall, but I’d definitely seen a stretcher.

Without missing a beat, Liam said, “No. The body you called in has been taken out to the ambulance.”

“How many more are there?” Kevin interrupted, speaking for the first time in what felt like forever. His voice was husky. “Two more? Or is it three?”

Liam winced.

“What?” I said, and then immediately had a flashback that was glorious and horrifying at the same time.

The glorious: naked, happy Kevin investigating the wall.

The horrifying: naked, happy Kevin announcing that there were four alcoves.

“No,” I said. “There are more bodies ?”

Liam neither confirmed nor denied.

He didn’t have to.

“Oh my god,” I said blankly. “I’ve got a murder house. A dollhouse . Just like Ray. I mean… just like Ray. Kevin found him, and everything.”

Kevin stood up suddenly, making me flinch. “Can I go?”

Liam’s blue-grey eyes flicked to me then back again. “Uh. Yes. I have to give you both a pamphlet and my card with my contact details?—”

“I’ve already got your phone number,” I said.

“That’s my personal number. You need my professional number, and email. Charlie, tell Constable Jones what you want packed, and you two can leave. Do you have an overnight bag she can use?”

Kevin fidgeted, almost jogging on the spot. He looked right at me for the first time since we’d been flirting up in my room. Our eyes held for all of one second before he glanced away.

I frowned.

“Charlie?” Katie Jones said. “Let’s get your overnight bag sorted and then you can get out of here, okay?”

“Sounds…good. Sounds good. And Phil. Um. Phil needs his stuff.”

“We can pack a bag for Phil. We’ll start with you.” She nodded at me encouragingly, her face sympathetic.

Katie had been coming to The Chipped Cup since she was a little girl. She liked strawberry frappes, white chocolate and cranberry cookies, and had been a little demon for running around and knocking empty trays off tables.

Somehow, she was now a confident professional in her twenties, about to go rifling through my underwear drawer because I wasn’t allowed into my room to pack before I was ejected because it was a crime scene.

Because of the dead cowboy in my wall.

Possibly four dead cowboys. Or…?

Were they all even cowboys? I grimaced.

Probably not.

When this had happened to Ray, the first one was dressed up in a seventies costume even though the body was supposedly dead long before the seventies rolled around. There was a second body, also in a costume although I never did hear the details on that one. The third was definitely a clown. I heard a lot about that. Adam saw it and fainted.

I rubbed my hands over my face, suddenly staggeringly tired, and started to give Katie a list. “Don’t you need to write it down?” I asked when she stood there, nodding.

She tapped the side of her head. “Got a memory palace up here,” she said.

I blinked.

“Go on,” she prompted me with a gentle smile. “Then I’ll go and get that lot, and you can get Phil’s things together.”

“Right.” I reeled off a list which I was fairly sure hit the important notes—clean boxers, toothbrush, work shirt and trousers for tomorrow—and headed over to Phil’s cupboard.

Expecting to get pounced on by Phil demanding a treat, I glanced around when I managed to get the door open without him trying to wedge himself inside. No Phil.

No Liam or Kevin, either.

I was alone in the kitchen apart from another constable. Presumably he was a Starbucks fan, because I didn’t recognise him from the coffee shop, and I recognised all my customers.

“Where’s Phil?” I said. “Where’s Kevin?”

The constable pointed over his shoulder. “Detective Chief Inspector Nash walked him out.”

Phil? No. Wait. “Kevin left?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When you were talking to Jones.”

“But not like…? He didn’t leave- leave. Did he?”

The officer shrugged. “He went that way,” he said, and pointed towards the hall. “That’s all I know.”

I strode past him and headed out to the front of the house, grimacing at what I assumed was the forensics crew’s equipment stacked up by the stairs, the glare of powerful lights leaking out onto the landing, and the constant low hum of voices. I stood aside to let DS Patel past, and she sent me a distracted nod before jogging silently up the stairs.

Outside, Liam was crouched down on the doorstep, gently scrunching Phil’s ears.

Just Liam.

I looked around, my heart fluttering unpleasantly. I rubbed the centre of my chest, telling it to chill out.

“Where’s Kevin?” I said.

Liam’s hands paused mid-scrunch. He pivoted on the balls of his feet to look up at me. “Gone home.”

I stared at him. “Is he coming back?”

“No.”

I stood there like a muppet, wrong-footed. Liam straightened and caught my arm, easing me towards the house.

“Come on,” he said.

I scanned up and down the street, looking for Kevin’s Land Cruiser.

It wasn’t there.

Because he’d gone home.

Liam squeezed my arm. “Charlie,” he said.

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.” I pulled away and strode into the house, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Right. Fine. Tidy up the kitchen, pack Phil’s bag, wait for Katie to pack mine, and then?—

I paused by the kitchen table, cluttered with cups.

Kevin hadn’t drunk either of his lattes. The hearts I’d drawn on top without even thinking about it had dissipated.

You couldn’t even tell they were lattes anymore; the drinks may as well have been flat whites.

I grabbed a tray from the counter, briskly loaded it up, and marched over to the sink. I turned the hot tap on and emptied the cups, washing it all away. I got out the washing-up liquid, squirted it onto a sponge, and got to scrubbing. Liam came up behind me. I tensed. “If Kevin’s allowed to go,” I said without looking at him, ”I assume I am, too?”

“Yes. Katie’s got your bag. What does Phil need?”

I set a clean cup on the draining board and picked up another one. “Food bowl, water bowl, lead…” I listed it off, then paused. “Does the Premier Lodge allow dogs in their rooms?”

Liam was over by Phil’s cupboard, pushing Phil out of the way when he kept trying to stuff his head in it. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“I am going to worry about it, Liam. I’m not leaving him to sleep in my car. He’s a big boy. He won’t be comfortable. I won’t leave him. You know what? It’s fine, I’ll give Suzanne a call. She’ll take him overnight, I’m sure.” I finished washing the cups and picked up a tea towel. “Unless you want to take him?”

“I’d take him in a heartbeat, and you, too, Charlie, but I can’t because?—”

“Sure, sure. Sure. You’re investigating. You’re on the case.” I dropped the tea towel—the cups could air-dry—and went to shuffle Liam out of the way. He let me move him without complaint, and I quickly got Phil’s backpack crammed with food and snacks, his bowls, and his favourite squeaky toy, and clipped his lead onto his collar. Phil already had a bed in the back room of Suzanne’s shop. Oh. He had bowls too. Well. They were in there now. No point in unpacking them.

I looked down at him then up at Liam, who was watching me with sympathy in his eyes if not on his face, which was very firmly set in detective mode. “You know,” I said slowly, “Phil never once went upstairs. Not once in all the time I’ve had him.”

Liam’s sandy brows twitched together. “Never?”

“Nope.”

“Not even to sleep with you?”

“No.”

“I’d have pegged him for a bed hog. He’s pinned me to the sofa enough times.”

“I know. My boy was born to snuggle. But he point-blank refused to put even a paw on the stairs. Do you think he knew about the body? Bodies, I mean. Do you think that’s why he didn’t go up?”

Liam looked at Phil consideringly. “Could be. Okay. Are you ready to go?”

“If I must. How long are you kicking me out for?” I followed Liam into the hall.

“Can’t say yet. As soon as we’re done processing the scene and forensics has collected everything they need, I can officially release it.”

“Give me a hint.”

“Day or four,” he said promptly.

I blew out a breath. “In other words, it takes as long as it takes.”

“Pretty much.”

Great. The Premier Lodge was the nearest hotel. I could try to get a room in one of the local B&Bs, or in one of the Airbnbs that were slowly taking over the most picturesque cottages in the centre of town, but those would come with hosts who wanted to talk.

I was not in a sociable mood.

Premier Lodge it was, even though the cost of a room per night was bonkers for a hotel built on the edge of a light industrial park that boasted views of mostly concrete as far as the eye could see.

I spotted my overnight bag waiting by the hall table, and picked it up. “Do you need a key?” I said. People were going to be coming in and out.

“You already gave me one when I moved your car for the ambulance.”

“I did?” He moved my car?

“Yes.”

“Sorry. It’s been a day. A shitty, shitty day.”

“I know.”

I tightened my hand on Phil’s lead, and stepped outside. “Oh, look. It just got better. An audience . If Jasper writes an article about this and accuses me of being a murderer like he did to Ray, I will sue you both.”

“No you won’t.”

“I will. I’m not as nice as Ray.”

“I know that. You still wouldn’t sue. Besides, he won’t write an article. He retired from being a journalist years ago.” Liam’s expression remained flat but his voice carried a hint of amusement when he said, “He has other creative outlets these days.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Police vehicles clustered at the bottom of my drive and the area had been cordoned off. An officer stood by the metal barriers chatting up the paramedic who had taken my blood pressure and frowned at the results. I supposed the ambulance was hanging around to take the bodies…wherever it was they took dead bodies. Hospital morgue, probably.

There wasn’t exactly a crowd out here, but I’d also never seen this many pedestrians going up and down my quiet street before. Suddenly, everyone was in a mood for a walk. Nosy bastards.

I wasn’t thrilled about being booted from my own home, but I didn’t think I’d have chosen to stay the night, even if it had been an option. “I hope they’ve got a vacancy at the Lodge,” I said, heading for my car. I didn’t get far.

“You’re not staying at the Lodge. Don’t be daft.” Liam took my bag off me and strode down the drive in the opposite direction.

I hurried after him, sidled through the barrier when the officer lifted it aside for me, and came to a stop three doors down from my house where a familiar car was parked.

Not Kevin’s.

It was Ray’s little green Nissan Leaf. Adam Blake was leaning against the side, his ankles crossed and sharp eyes on mine as I drifted to a halt beside Liam. “Get in, loser,” Adam said. “You’re coming with me.”

After the day I’d had? “Yeah, okay.”