Mike gaped. “They didn’t.”
“Oh, they did. And they admitted as much the following morning, along with showing him the videos they’d taken on their phones of him dancing like a lunatic with a young woman wearing very little. Presumably the same young woman who… yes, well. Harold, of course, didn’t remember any of this. His employees found it all highly amusing, until Harold pointed out that they had, in fact, drugged him, and as such he had grounds to report them to the police. That soon changed their tune.”
“What happened to Harold?” Mike asked quietly. If he’d been in Harold’s shoes, he wouldn’t have been so lenient.
“A friend took him in and gave him a room. He found a job, and little by little he got his life back. But he was never the same—a shell of a man, really. His life had been ruined.”
Jonathon gazed at her with obvious interest. “The friend who helped him… that was you, wasn’t it?”
Lily gave him a gentle smile. “You’re a very perceptive young man. Mike is a lucky fellow.”
“I think so too.” Mike placed his hand on Jonathon’s knee.
Lily glanced down, and her smile grew wider. “Oh. Oh, my dears. Do I take it there have been developments?”
“You don’t miss much, do you, Lily?” Mike took Jonathon’s hand in his.
She let out a contented sigh. “I wish you both every happiness.”
“Where is Harold now?” Jonathon asked.
“When I moved into the Cedars, I intended to sell my house, but instead Harold lives there. He pays rent, of course, but nothing like what a rental agency would charge him. And he looks after the place for me.” Lily met Mike’s gaze. “I know what you’re wondering. Is he the type of person who might seek revenge on the woman who blighted his life?”
“Well, is he?”
Lily clasped her wrinkled hands in her lap, staring at them. “The Harold I knew would not have sought revenge. The man he became? That is another matter.”
“You know we’ll have to talk to him, don’t you?” Mike said softly. “And if we don’t, the police certainly will, once they start putting together their own list of suspects.”
Lily sighed heavily. “Jonathon, could I borrow your notepad and pen for a moment?”
“Of course.” He handed them to her, and she wrote carefully in an elegant script. Then she handed them back. Jonathon peered at the page, then met Mike’s gaze. “Well, we know where to find him.”
Mike reached across and laid his hand over hers. “Thank you.”
She nodded. “Be kind to him?”
“Of course.” He released her hands and got up. “We’ll let you know what we discover.”
“I shall be praying that you exonerate him.” When Jonathon leaned in and kissed her cheek, she flushed. “I hope you realize I expect an invitation to the wedding.”
Jonathon smiled. “I hope you realize we both want you there.”
After saying their goodbyes, Mike headed back to the reception desk, with Jonathon at his side. The receptionist was in the middle of a phone call, so they waited. When she was done, Mike gave his brightest smile.
“I was wondering if Rebecca Brading is working today. I understand she cleans here.”
The woman behind the desk frowned. “Rebecca? Why on earth should you want to speak with one of our cleaners?”
“Her name came up in conversation, and we’d like to talk to her, if that’s possible,” Mike said smoothly.
The receptionist huffed. “Well, you can’t talk to her if she’s working. Let me check her hours.” Then she looked over Mike’s shoulder and smiled. “You’re in luck. She is in today, but it looks like she’s just finished. That’s Rebecca on her way out the door.”
Without waiting to thank her, Mike quickly went to the door, and Jonathon followed. A young woman was walking away from them.
“Rebecca Brading?” Mike called out.
She paused and turned. When she saw them, her eyes widened and she broke into a run.
“Wait!” Mike yelled, but she picked up speed.
“Stay here. I’ll catch her.” Jonathon sprinted after her, leaving Mike by the steps.
Why the hell did she run away like that? Because in Mike’s book, that usually pointed to one thing only.
Guilt.
Chapter Thirteen
“STOP!” JONATHON called out as he got closer. “We just want to talk to you!”
Rebecca showed no signs of slowing as she went through the gates that marked the Cedar’s boundaries, her long hair swaying. Jonathon picked up speed, wishing he was fitter. On impulse, he yelled, “We want to talk to you about Sophie!”
Rebecca came to an abrupt halt, turning to face him, panting visibly. “I know who you are. I know who he is. You’re lying. Why would you want to talk about my sister?” She bent over, her hands on her knees, obviously fighting to get her breath back. “God, I’m out of shape.”
“That makes two of us,” Jonathon said as he cautiously approached her. He held up his hands as he got closer. “Please. Don’t run off. We only want to talk. It’s not like we’re the police, right?”
“He was a copper.” Rebecca’s eyes gleamed with suspicion.
“Yes, but he’s not now. If you’ve spent any time in the village, you know he runs the pub.” Jonathon lowered his hands. “Please, Rebecca. A chat, that’s all.”
She glanced around her at the country lane. “Here?”
Jonathon thought quickly. “How about at the tea shop? Let us buy you a cup of tea.” He smiled. “I don’t know about you, but after that mad dash, I need one.”
She tilted her head to one side. “You don’t look like a lord of the manor.”
“And how does a lord of the manor look, in your experience?”
Her lips twitched. “Like a bit of a stuffed shirt.”
Jonathon chuckled. “Then I’m glad I don’t. But do I look like someone you can trust? Because I’m asking you to walk back to the car park with me, and then we’ll drive to the tea shop, where we can talk in comfort.”
Rebecca bit her lip, tossing her hair over her shoulders. “I guess I can. I haven’t heard anything dodgy about you.” She walked over to him, slowly. “Okay. I’ll go with you. As long as we’re not gonna walk into the tea shop to find that constable waiting for us.”
Jonathon crossed his heart. “I promise.” He figured Graham would be too busy dealing with Gorland to be having tea and cake at Rachel’s. At least, he hoped so. Jonathon gestured to the gateposts, and she nodded. They walked up the long, curved driveway to where Mike was still standing at the front steps.
Mike gave Rebecca an inquiring glance. “Why did you run like that?”
“Not here,” Jonathon remonstrated. “We’re going to Rachel’s for tea.”
Mike arched his eyebrows, then pulled his car keys from his pocket. Rebecca followed them to the 4x4, and minutes later they were on their way.
Jonathon was quiet as they drove toward the heart of the village. He had to admit, running like that wasn’t the action of an innocent person, and he was intrigued to discover her motivation.