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Nova

“The first time I saw this photo, I knew there was something vaguely familiar about the cottage,” Phyllis said. “But it wasn’t until just now I realized where I’d seen it before. It’s the same one as in this horrible painting of yours.”

“It’s not horrible, Esi quite likes this sort of thing,” Arthur said. “But I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand the relevance of it.”

“Remember the first time we spoke to Cynthia, the day after Michael disappeared?” Phyllis said. “She complained about how much Michael had left her to deal with, including sorting out all of Eve’s things. And when I went to the wake, I saw boxes of books and bags of old clothes in Eve’s bedroom.”

“What, so you think this painting belonged to Michael’s mum?”

“Cynthia must have taken some of Eve’s belongings, including this painting, to the Cancer Research charity shop in Port Gowan, where Nova bought it. From the looks of this photo, my guess is the cottage is a holiday house they used to go to when Michael was a child. And the fact Eve owned a painting of it suggests it wasn’t just somewhere they rented, but a place that belonged to them. Maybe it still does.”

“Good lord, so you think—” Arthur said, but Phyllis got there first.

“Assuming he’s still alive, this might be where Michael is. If we can find this cottage, maybe we can find him and the missing money.”

There was a moment of silence as they all took in what this meant.

“This cottage could be anywhere,” Arthur said. “It might not even be in the UK.”

“Let me have a look at that photo,” Nova said, and Phyllis handed her the frame. Nova turned it over and began to unclip the back. “My dad loved photography; he had this old SLR camera he took with us whenever we went traveling. He used to develop the photos himself when we got home and then…” She stopped, lifting the old photo out of the frame with a smile. “He always used to write on the back where the photo was taken and when. Just like Michael’s parents did.”

“What’s it say?” Phyllis said, as Nova raised the photo closer to her face. It must be at least fifty years old and the pencil writing was faded, but she could just make out two words and a date.

“Chy Pysk, 1969.”

“Fish house?” Arthur said. “That’s a funny name for a place.”

“We need to search for it online,” Phyllis said.

“Already on it.”

They all turned to see Ash tapping away on his phone.

“It looks like there are seven—no, eight—Chy Pysks in Cornwall,” he said after a moment.

“We don’t need eight, we just need the one on Bodmin Moor,” Phyllis said.

Ash shook his head, not taking his eyes off the screen. “There isn’t one coming up near Bodmin. All of these are on the coast.”

“Makes sense, what with the name,” Arthur said.

“Give me a minute and I’ll get them up on a map,” Ash said.

“We need to go to these houses and look for Michael,” Phyllis said, reaching out and grasping Nova’s arm. “Michael’s going to be in one of them, I know it. The only question is whether he’s there of his own volition, or if he’s being held against his will.”

“Ash did suggest he might have been abducted, didn’t you, lad?” Arthur said, but the teenager didn’t reply, his attention fixed on his phone.

“Here.” He turned it round so they could all see the screen. There was a map of Cornwall, and marked on it were eight red dots.

“Oh no, they’re all over the place,” Arthur said with a groan. “Look, there’s one near Looe, there’s one up by Padstow, and another all the way down near Lizard Point. It would take us days to visit all of these.”

“We don’t have days,” Phyllis said with a growl of frustration.

Nova tried to zone out their conversation. Something was tugging in the back of her brain, something small and faint but insistent. Something about…

“Lizards!”

The other three all stared at her.

“What are you talking about?” Phyllis demanded.

“There was a bookmark in Michael’s copy of Where the Crawdads Sing , the one he left at the book club. It was an old leather National Trust one and the lettering was really faded, but I remember seeing the word lizard . I thought it was about the reptiles, but I think it might have said Lizard Point. What if that’s the Chy Pysk we need?”

“My God, we’ve got him!” Phyllis’s face was flushed with excitement. “We need to get down there now.”

“Awesome,” Ash said, grinning.

“Actually, not you, Ash,” Phyllis said. “You need to keep trying to get into that Michael file; I still think it contains vital evidence against Cynthia.”

The boy’s face fell, but he nodded.

“I’ll stay and help Ash,” Arthur said. “Besides, I can’t disappear off and leave Esi all day.”

“Fine, well it’s just me and Nova. Come on, let’s go.”

Phyllis grabbed Craddock’s lead and moved toward the door, but Nova stayed where she was.

“Why are you dawdling, we need to get going. It’s at least a four-hour round trip and—”

“I’m sorry, Phyllis, but I can’t come.”

“Why not?”

“I told you, I’m getting married tomorrow. My mum’s landing in a couple of hours and I have to collect her from the airport, and then we have a church rehearsal at six.”

“We’ll be back by then, and surely you can get someone else to collect your mum?”

“I promised Craig I wouldn’t risk getting into any more trouble. If he found out I’d driven all the way to the southernmost tip of Great Britain to find a murder suspect, he’d call the wedding off on the spot.”

“Well, then you don’t have to tell him you’ve gone.” Phyllis’s voice had risen in exasperation. “This is your chance to clear your name and hopefully get the stolen money back. Isn’t that more important than some silly rehearsal?”

“I’m sorry, Phyllis, but I can’t go.”

“But you’re the only one with a car. Ash and I don’t drive, and Arthur’s only got his old tractor, which isn’t going to get us very far. Without you, I can’t get there and this whole thing is over.”

Nova faltered, and then she remembered Craig’s words. No more Nancy Drew nonsense. “I really am sorry.”

She couldn’t look at the older lady, but she could sense her eyes boring into her. There was a long, drawn-out silence, the only sound Craddock’s huffing breaths.

“Come on, Phyllis, let’s go,” Arthur said.

“But Michael…” Phyllis muttered.

“I can call the police and tell them what we know; I won’t mention your name,” Arthur said. “Maybe they’ll send someone down to the cottage to check.”

The three of them shuffled outside. Nova waited for them to say good-bye, but none of them turned round as they headed down the driveway toward the road.

She shut the front door and returned to the living room, where the silk bags were waiting for her on the floor. She’d done the right thing, hadn’t she? Craig had been adamant Nova shouldn’t get involved in any more amateur sleuthing, and she couldn’t lie to the man she was about to marry. Besides, she needed to head off to the airport soon.

At the thought of her mum, Nova picked up her phone from where she’d left it on the floor with the silk bags. As she turned it over, she saw two missed calls from her mum. Nova clicked on her name and listened to the dialing tone.

“There you are!”

“Hey Mum. Sorry, I was just busy with something. How are you? How was the flight?”

“Darling, have you listened to my voicemail?”

“Not yet. What did it say?”

“Oh love, it’s been a nightmare. My internal flight to Bogotá was canceled so I’m still in Colombia.”

Nova felt a cold flash of panic. “What?”

“I’m so sorry, Nono. I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want to worry you until I’d sorted out an alternative. But I’m taking a flight to Bogotá this afternoon and then I’ll fly to London overnight and get the train down to Cornwall first thing tomorrow. It’s going to be tight, but I’ll be there in time for the wedding, I promise.”

“Bloody hell.” Nova sunk back on the sofa, exhaling slowly.

“I’m really sorry. There are terrible storms here so everything’s in chaos.”

“That’s all right.”

“How are you doing? You sound stressed.”

“Oh Mum, you have no idea,” Nova said with a tired laugh.

“Is it pre-wedding nerves?”

“That and the fact I’ve been suspended from work and questioned by the police for assault.”

“What? Nono, what happened?”

“Sandy was attacked in her home the other night.”

“Oh God, is she okay?”

“Yes. But a witness saw someone wearing a red coat like mine near her house at the exact time she was attacked, so I’m the prime suspect.”

“But what does that mean? Do you think someone tried to frame you?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“Why would anyone do that? You’re hardly the kind of person who makes enemies. Unless…you don’t think this has anything to do with Declan, do you?”

“Declan? No, I don’t think so. Phyllis, this lady from my book club, is convinced it’s all connected to the stolen community center money I e-mailed you about the other day. She has this theory involving the wife of the man we think stole the money and his dead mother, which is too complicated to even explain. But whatever’s going on, my life has pretty much imploded in the last forty-eight hours.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry I’ve not been there for you,” Maddy said quietly. “Has Craig been helpful?”

“Yes, but you know how much he worries. He just wants me to focus on the wedding and not get distracted by everything that’s going on at work.”

“Easy for him to say! This is your job, the career you love and have worked so hard for. If I were you, I’d be fighting to clear my name too.”

“Well, instead of doing that I’m sitting here, making up monogrammed bags of sugared almonds as gifts for the wedding guests tomorrow.”

Maddy laughed and then stopped when she realized Nova wasn’t joking. “Sweetheart, I don’t want to come between you and Craig, but you’re not the kind of person who sits back and does nothing. Remember at school, when that awful teacher tried to get you thrown out of the drama club because she thought you’d stolen some costumes? You took up a one-woman crusade to clear your name and get yourself back into that club.”

“Yeah, but this is a bit more serious than a stolen brocade jacket, Mum. A woman’s been murdered, money’s been stolen, and Sandy’s been attacked. The police are involved, so shouldn’t I just stay out of it?”

“Okay love, if you think that’s best. But just remember what your dad always used to say.”

Nova knew immediately what her mum was referring to. She could picture her dad sitting cross-legged on her old bed, reading one of their many favorite stories. You have to get out there and seize life with both hands, Nono , he used to say when he closed the pages and kissed her goodnight. After all, no one writes books about characters who sit around waiting for life to happen to them.

Nova glanced at the clock on the wall and took a deep breath.

“All right, Mum. I’ll see you tomorrow.”