“Okay, to be honest? I never read the contents of her notebook. I wasn’t given permission to do that. But… I can try to find the link and send it to you. Should I send this to the police too?”
“Haven’t they already interviewed you? I’d have thought you would be one of the first people they’d contact.”
“They probably contacted her agent first. I’m further down the pecking order. But doubtless I’ll get a call soon.”
“When you do, give them the link too. That’s if you can find it.” Not that Jonathon wasn’t going to send it to Graham. Keeping on Graham’s good side was high on his list of priorities. “How far back does this notebook go?”
Sharon laughed. “She was on maybe her tenth notebook. Everything went in them—research notes, plot notes, meetings, musings…. And if she saw a notebook that she liked, she bought it. There’s a shelf in her apartment that contains nothing but notebooks—ones she’s already filled, and others waiting to be filled.” Sharon snickered. “I called it stationery porn. The present notebook has been going since January of this year.” A slight pause. “The link should give you access to all her notebooks. Each one is in its own folder. I hope you have some spare time to read it all. You also have my sympathies.”
“Why?” he asked, puzzled.
“Because you’re going to have to wade through a lot of notes to hopefully find a few nuggets of information that might help you. I hope they do help, though.”
“Thank you.” Jonathon gave her his email address. “I’ll be awaiting the link.”
“Good luck.” Sharon sighed heavily. “She was a pain in the arse to work for, I have to admit, but she didn’t deserve this.”
“Well, apparently someone thought she did.” Jonathon thanked her again, then disconnected the call. He got up from the table and went into the pub in search of Mike. He found him checking the stock and making notes on a clipboard.
Mike glanced up as he approached the bar. “Well? I gather you were able to speak to her.” Jonathon gave him a précis of what Sharon had said, and Mike groaned. “More reading? And we can’t even ask Professor Harcourt to help us this time, because he’ll be gone sometime soon.”
“I’ll go up to the house and grab my laptop. While I’m up there, I’ll check my email to see if it’s arrived. Then I’ll download what I can and come back here.” He grinned. “Besides, I need to put in an appearance. The girls have hardly seen us since they arrived.”
Mike snorted. “The girls have been enjoying themselves, mark my words. Ivy is feeding them, they shopped till they dropped yesterday, they don’t have to do anything today but relax…. And it sounds like they don’t get that much time together, so they’re making the best of things. That’ll change when they move into their house, but for now, I’m sure a weekend of leisure is heaven for them.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Jonathon gave Mike an innocent glance. “Is Abi doing the first shift?”
“Yes, why?” Mike narrowed his gaze. “I know that look. You’re up to something.”
“Do you know what would go well with reading notes? Cake. A lot of cake. And coffee. Specifically, Rachel’s coffee and cake.”
Mike laughed. “Elevenses at the tea shop? Why not? Only, be prepared to have Rachel looking over our shoulder.”
Jonathon chuckled. “Teresa got it all wrong, you know, making a doctor’s receptionist her amateur sleuth. She should have made her the owner of a coffee shop. They get to hear everything.”
Mike reached into his jeans pocket, removed his keys, and tossed them to Jonathon. “Take my car. I’ll meet you at Rachel’s.”
“Are you sure?” Then Jonathon widened his grin. “It’s not like you didn’t get enough exercise this morning. I get tired thinking about it.”
And hot. He also got very hot.
Chapter Twenty
MIKE SMILED as Jonathon strolled into the tea shop, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “I remember the day we met, when I picked you up near the train station. You were holding on to that backpack like it was made of gold. Later, of course, I understood. It contained your camera.”
Jonathon sighed as he took the seat next to Mike. “Almost a year ago. The time has certainly flown by.” He removed his laptop from the backpack and placed it on the table, then glanced around. “Why is there no coffee and cake? You’re slipping.” His eyes twinkled.
Mike indicated the rear door of the tea shop. “Rachel has just baked some scones.” When Jonathon’s eyes widened and he licked his lips, Mike laughed. “Now you know why I waited. You can’t resist freshly baked scones. And yes, they come with butter, strawberry jam, and cream.”
“I once started a small war in here,” Jonathon confided. “I asked—very innocently, I might add—why some people felt it necessary to put the cream on the scone before the jam.” He arched his eyebrows. “I had no idea emotions ran so high on the subject.”
Mike groaned. “Of all the things to ask in a tea shop.” At that moment, Rachel came into the shop, carrying a cake stand, and the aroma was mouthwatering. She placed it on the table before disappearing back into the kitchen to fetch the coffee. “Did Sharon send you that link? Did you download all the photo files?”
Jonathon nodded. “Yes and yes. Sharon was right. There were ten folders in the cloud. I haven’t taken a peek at any of the contents yet, but I have taken the liberty of emailing them to you too.” His phone warbled, and he removed it from his backpack with a scowl. “I don’t want to answer calls or read texts right now. I want to eat—” He froze.
“Jonathon? What is it?” Jonathon’s expression was one of displeasure.
“Change of plan. My father has a meeting tomorrow in Bath, so rather than visit us next weekend, he intends stopping at the house tomorrow evening and staying the night.” With a sigh he composed a text, his fingers flying over the keys. “I’m letting Janet know. She hates last-minute changes.”
“Look on the bright side,” Mike suggested.
Jonathon stared at him in frank astonishment. “There’s a bright side?”
Mike chuckled. “I can tell you never read Pollyanna as a child. If he comes tomorrow night, that’s a whole week you don’t have of dreading his visit. Plus, Ruth and Clare will be leaving tonight, so they won’t run into each other.”
“Good point.” Jonathon’s face brightened as Rachel approached with the coffeepot, which she placed on their table.
“Anyone would think you didn’t like my coffee.” Mike aimed a hard stare at him.
“You know when I really love your coffee? When you bring it to me in bed.” Jonathon lowered his voice. “Of course, the best part is, you’re naked.”
Obviously his voice wasn’t low enough, judging by the splutters that broke the tea shop’s quiet. Rachel gave him a mock glare, her hands on her hips, but when she turned to head back to the kitchen, her shoulders were shaking.