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M y own mother hadn’t ever taken as good care of me as Adam Blake did that day.

I was fed, caffeinated ( if you could call it that, Nespresso) had a shower, was lent towels and a fluffy oversized bathrobe, got caffeinated again, dressed, was handed one of Ray’s messenger bags with a filled water bottle, my fully charged phone, my wallet, keys and an umbrella neatly packed inside, and shooed out the door.

It wasn’t a long walk into town but Adam drove me anyway. By the time he’d dropped me off, I was having serious thoughts about asking if he and Ray were open to being a throuple, because holy shit.

Yesterday I’d found a dead body in my house, my one and only relationship was on very shaky ground, I’d forgotten to close up my own damn business and had been ejected from my own home, and yet here I was. All of my needs met, bizarrely calm, and ready to face the day.

Adam had dropped me in the tiny, staff-only carpark behind the shop and I let myself in through the back door. The dishwasher was humming, the comforting scent of freshly ground beans hung in the air, and the familiar sounds of the shop filtered through.

I unhooked my borrowed messenger bag, took out the phone and water bottle and put them on the counter, then turned to lean against the wall, head tipped back and eyes closed.

Time to gird my loins.

I remembered what it had been like for Ray, back when Kevin had found the first body.

Lots of talk. Lots of gossip and speculation. Accusations in the paper—mostly from Jasper back in his unhinged journalist days—about Ray being a murderer.

I didn’t think that I was going to get the same degree of suspicion thrown my way, but I was definitely going to be the topic of conversation. I didn’t like attention at the best of times.

This was not the best of times.

Still leaning against the wall, I snagged my phone and entered the passcode.

I blinked at it. To my surprise, there was only one message.

Okay. That was great. As already established, I didn’t like attention.

The message was from Suzanne.

Not Kevin. From whom I was expecting our usual good-morning text, if not at least some acknowledgement about the day before.

Deciding that I didn’t have the patience to be tapping away at my phone when it was quicker to make a damn call, I quickly pulled up Suzanne’s contact and dialled.

“You need a place to stay?” she asked gruffly once I’d finished explaining that Phil was hanging out with Ray today. “Haven’t got a spare room, but you and Phil are welcome to my sofa.”

“Appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.”

Suzanne was in her early seventies, she did not suffer fools, and I’d heard the reluctance in her voice although she’d tried to hide it. She lived in the flat over her shop and was a hardcore introvert who liked her privacy. I was touched that she’d even offer her sofa. I liked her enough not to accept.

Besides. I doubted that she’d feed me toast and scrambled eggs, pack my bag for me, and send me off all ready for my day quite like Adam did.

“Where are you staying?” she asked.

“Adam and Ray’s.”

She snorted. “Got yourself a little murder house support group going on, have you?” she said.

I smiled despite myself. “God, do not say that to anyone else.”

“Too late. There are three customers in my shop right now, they all heard, and I’m reading the local paper. Surprise! You and your boyfriend, Kevin the Chipping Fairford Corpse Finder, are in it.”

“Kevin the…? A man finds a dead body more than once and suddenly he’s a ‘corpse finder’?” I assumed she could tell from my disgusted tone of voice that I said this last bit with air quotes.

“You can’t deny he’s got a knack. Most people go their whole lives without ripping up someone’s bedroom and finding a dead body. Just saying.”

“Suzanne.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tell me that you’re not reading a dodgy article in the Inquirer .”

“ Inquirer’s mostly online these days, you know that. This is the Oxford rag.”

“Fantastic.”

“Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t read the paper.”

“Is it bad?”

“They gave your boyfriend a catchy nickname. What do you think?”

I groaned. “Thanks, Suzanne. I’ll let you know when things look like they’re going to get back to normal, but until then, assume Phil’s taken care of.”

We said goodbye and hung up. I stared at the phone screen.

It was very kind of her to check up on me and offer me somewhere to stay.

I wished my boyfriend the Chipping Fairford Corpse Finder had thought to extend the same courtesy.

But, no.

No matter how hard I stared at my phone, or how many times I opened our last text conversation to see if there was a message I’d somehow missed, there was emphatically no contact from Kevin.

It was fine, I told myself. He’d had a shock, too.

In fact, he’d taken it a lot harder than I had.

I didn’t want to be all judgmental about it, but up until his vanishing act, I’d considered Kevin to be the most steady, sturdy, unflappable man I’d ever met. It was one of the many things I loved about him.

I thought about calling him, but decided there wasn’t much point when he’d be in any minute for his coffee.

I’d prefer to ask him how he was doing face to face, anyway.

Pippa came bustling into the back, and yelped when she saw me lurking by the door. “Charlie!” She dumped the tray of dirty cups she was carrying, rushed over, and snatched me into a cashmere-soft and Chanel-scented hug. “You poor thing!” She attempted to draw my head down onto her shoulder but was about a foot too short. She settled for swaying me gently side to side.

“Morning,” I said.

She held my upper arms and set me away from her to give me a thorough scan from head to toe. “All right,” she said. “What do you need?”

“Right now? A good cup of coffee. Adam and Ray have a Nespresso machine. It’s not as bad as Starbucks, granted, but I do have standards.”

“Double-shot black Americano, coming up,” she said with a brisk nod. “And darling, I want you to come and stay with me. I told Adam to bring you over last night and he insisted you were already sleeping and he wasn’t about to wake you up and shuffle you out. He was a bit high-handed about it, to be honest. But you can grab your stuff and come over after work, yes?”

“Oh.” I gazed into her earnest little face. “Thank you, Pippa, but…I’ll stick with Adam and Ray since we’re already there.”

She pouted. “Are you sure? I almost never get to show off my guest room.”

“I’m sure. I appreciate the offer, though. Seriously.”

“Well, I suppose it makes sense. As you’re already there. And of course, you and Ray can commiserate.”

“Yep.”

“Compare notes about your matching murder houses.”

“Sounds fun.”

“And if you want to talk about it, darling, I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

She rubbed my arms briskly and stepped back. “Are you sure you don’t want to take the day off? We’re managing just fine. I have a lunch date today that’s too late to cancel, but I’ve gone ahead and cleared my calendar for the week.”

“I haven’t had a day off in years. I’m not about to start now, just because I found a dead body in my house.”

Pippa looked disapproving, but she didn’t try to argue with me.

Another place to stay and an offer to unburden myself.

Again, I was truly touched.

And again, I was left thinking, Where the hell is Kevin?

Pippa busied herself loading up the dishwasher and I went out into the shop to help Milly behind the counter with the Sunday morning rush.

It wasn’t Milly.

Jasper was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black Chipped Cup polo shirt that was begging for mercy, straining over his big chest and biceps. His cheeks were flushed, his dark hair was as limp as hair that short could get, and he was happily steaming a metal jug of milk. He glanced up when I strode over, and smiled. “Hi!” he said. “I’m your new—ow, fuck . That’s hot.”

He bobbled the milk jug like a hot potato, somehow managed not to spill it all over himself, and dropped it onto the counter with a loud clang. It wobbled but didn’t tip over. “Okay, I was doing great until you and your judgy face showed up. I am helping you, Charlie. Don’t even start. Pippa has trained me. I can do this.”

I stared at him.

He stared back mulishly.

I reached out and clasped his shoulder. “Thank you,” I said.

Third time today I’d had occasion to say that. I was a lucky man.

Jasper’s face brightened. “You’re really going to let me be your new barista?”

“Yep. You can keep the shirt and everything.”

“Awesome. I always wanted to give it a go. Fair warning, I’ve got to run in half an hour because I’ve got my Booty Pump! class and I couldn’t get anyone to take it for me, but I’ll be back straight after.”

“You don’t have to. I’m fine to work now. Helping out this morning was more than enough.”

“Liam’s supposed to be coming to talk to you at lunch, which is your busy time. You could probably use me then?”

“Good point.”

The customer Jasper had been steaming milk for cleared his throat loudly. “I could use you now,” the guy said. “To bring me my latte.”

“Be right with you!” Jasper said cheerfully.

I took the customer’s payment and Jasper brought over the latte he’d made, popping the lid on the to-go cup with care before handing it over.

Part of me had been convinced that I’d have people staring at me and/or asking nosy questions all morning long, but it was still early and apparently the news hadn’t yet spread amongst my regulars.

Speaking of…

“Kevin hasn’t been in yet, has he?” I asked Jasper.

“Nope.”

“Huh. He usually…never mind.”

“What?”

“He usually comes in around this time, that’s all.”

“Even at weekends?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe he’s lying low. I wouldn’t blame him for one bit. Did you know the papers are calling him the Chipping Fairford Corpse Finder? How is he, anyway?”

“Don’t call him that, and I have no idea. I haven’t heard from him since last night.”

Jasper’s mouth dropped open.

Okay, thank you. It wasn’t just me being weird about it. I’d had to at least consider, what with being a relationship noob, that my hurt feelings might have been unwarranted. Guess not.

“Aren’t you two…? Together?” he said cautiously.

“I thought so.” I shrugged, doing my best to make it look casual. Easy come, easy go. “Perhaps he’s rethinking it.”

“No way,” Jasper said. “He’s into you. Like. If he was any more into you, Charlie, you’d be on his dick right now.”

“That’s…sweet. A little crude. A little graphic. But sweet.”

“Maybe your phone isn’t working.”

“It’s working.”

He dug his iPhone out of his pocket and fiddled with it. My back pocket chimed. “That was me,” he said unnecessarily. “It’s working.”

“I know.”

“Maybe Kevin’s phone isn’t working.”

I sagged with relief. “His phone was in my bedroom. Scene of the crime. He probably wasn’t even allowed to take it with him. Do you think that’s it?”

It must be. Also, Kevin was only twenty-four. He probably didn’t know landlines existed. He probably had no idea where I was or how to get hold of me.

Although it was a fair bet I was in the coffee shop.

Which had a phone number listed on the shitty little website I had going.

But—

“Technically, your bedroom is the body disposal site,” Jasper corrected me. “It’s not a crime scene unless there was a crime committed there, and if it’s the same deal as at Ray’s, then…” He broke off and sucked in a breath. “Was it a doll?” he asked. “Oh my god. What was it? What was it dressed as? Not another clown? Adam will die . He fainted when Ray’s dad dug up the clown in Ray’s garden. You have to tell me.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to. Ask Liam.”

“Just tell me if it was a doll. Like, a mummy in a little outfit. It was, wasn’t it? Oh my god. The plot thickens. Was it? Blink if it was.”

“I blink regularly. If you want to take it as confirmation that yes, it was a human doll, that’s on you.” I blinked.

“Aha! I knew it!” He squinted. “Wait. Was that confirmation?”

I blinked again.

“Yes!” Jasper said. “Yes? I’m assuming yes if you don’t contradict me.”

“Assume away.”

There was a long silence, then he gave a cute little whine. “Charlie. I’m confused.”

I suppressed my smile. “Ask Liam.”

“That man is a vault. He won’t tell me anything.”

“It’s part of his job description not to.”

Jasper heaved a sigh of disappointment.

A couple of regulars came in. “You’re up,” I told him.

He beamed at me, and I couldn’t help but laugh. God, he was enthusiastic.

“I have wanted to do this for years,” he said, and hurried over to take the orders. “Can’t believe you’re finally letting me!”

I noticed that we were getting low on croissants, which were always in higher demand at the weekends, so I left him to it and ducked into the back to get a refill.

Jasper finished with the customers and came to watch me restock the pastry case. He was as fascinated as if he was sitting in on a particularly interesting brain surgery.

I set the tongs down and straightened, checking around to see if anything else needed doing.

Soft jazz music played over the speakers. The air was warm and scented with coffee. People were eating, talking, drinking. Outside, it was raining lightly. I felt the tension in my shoulders ease. Work stressed me out, but not this part of it.

This part, I loved.

I loved providing people with a friendly, welcoming place to hang out and take a moment in their busy lives. I loved the warm, cosy lights and the way that the greyer and more miserable it got outside, the cosier it got in here.

I leaned a hip against the counter and turned to Jasper, only to find him on his phone.

I reached over and took it out of his hand. “I have one rule for my baristas. Stay off your goddamn phone unless you’re on a break.”

“Pretty sure you’ve got more than one rule,” Jasper said and went to take his phone back.

I whipped it out of his reach. “Fair enough, I’ve got a couple more. Don’t drop the cups, and always check the use-by date on the milk carton.”

“I haven’t dropped a cup yet,” he said, snagging first my wrist and then his phone.

“I give you to the end of the day. You should know, I have a three-strike policy. Three cups and you’re fired.”

“Uh-huh,” Jasper said, not taking me seriously at all. He fiddled with his phone again, then smiled at me. “Kevin!”

“What are you…? Give me that.” I lunged for his phone, and he calmly put a hand on my chest and pushed me back, holding me at bay.

“No, no,” Jasper said to Kevin, opening his eyes wide at me. “Don’t panic, Charlie’s fine. Nothing’s wrong at all, I was just calling to?—”

I squirmed under his arm, snatched his phone, and held it to my ear.

“—to what?” Kevin said. “You were calling to what? Jasper?”

At the sound of his voice, my breath caught. “Kevin.”

He hesitated a second before saying, “Charlie?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

He hung up.

I pulled the phone away and stared at the screen.

No, he definitely hung up.

Scowling, I shoved Jasper’s phone at him and dug my own out of my back pocket. I entered the passcode wrong twice, slowed down and entered it again a third time, then pulled up Kevin’s number from my favourites and dialled.

It rang and rang.

And rang.

I hung up.

“Charlie—” Jasper began.

I held up a finger, and dialled again.

He didn’t answer.

I ended the call.

Okay, I could admit it. Up to now, I’d been avoiding calling him or texting him.

There was no reason I couldn’t have done it the moment I opened my eyes this morning, rather than passively waiting for him to be the one to call or to text me.

I’d been telling myself that I was scrambling to catch up with the day before my life completely unravelled, that I’d get to it as soon as I had a second.

That was a lie. I’d been flat-out avoiding it—and this was why.

Jasper opened his mouth to say something when the phone in my limp hand rang.

Thank god. “Kevin?” I said. “What the?—”

“Kevin? Kevin who?” my sister said. “Kevin Wallis? And why do I have to hear about a fucking dead body in your house from Gemma Richards? A dead body , Charlie?”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were on an ashram where they didn’t allow phones,” I snapped.

“That was last month. I’m at a hostel in Phuket now.”

“Right.”

“Charlie, stop being a dick for once in your life and tell me you’re okay! Okay?”

“I’m okay. Good chat. Stay safe.” I hung up, set my phone to Do Not Disturb, and stalked off to empty the dishwasher.