Grave in the Garage (A Reverend Annabelle Dixon Cozy Mystery Book 4) Read online

  “Are you thinking it could have something to do with what happened at the garage? Should I ask my boys to check for tracks?”

  As they walked, Annabelle looked at the Inspector with a mischievous smile.

  “Inspector, are you asking for my advice regarding your police work?”

  Nicholls laughed breezily. “You tend to offer it regardless.”

  Annabelle grinned and turned her gaze to look ahead again. “No. I don’t think so. It was going so fast that it would have overshot the garage, and it wasn’t long afterward that I got the ride from Alfred. There was no time to…” She trailed off, looking forlorn.

  “As I said then, it was probably a villager’s more successful relative from the city,” the Inspector said quickly, keen to return to safer conversational ground.

  “Perhaps,” Annabelle rallied, unconvinced. “But then there was the rumor I heard this morning.”

  “Oh?” the Inspector said, his interest still piqued.

  “Some nonsense about the men of Upton St. Mary disappearing all night and spending lots of money.”

  “Ah,” Nicholls smiled, his interest satisfied, “well that’s only natural for this time of year. The football season’s started, those tickets aren’t cheap. And it’s too cold to do anything but go to the pub.”

  Annabelle laughed quietly, almost to herself.

  “What?” the Inspector asked, confused. “Something I said?”

  “No,” Annabelle sighed, “that was my conclusion exactly.”

  They reached the Inspector’s car, and Annabelle walked over to the passenger side. The Inspector opened his door, but before he could get in, Annabelle spoke to him over the roof of his car.

  “There was one more thing,” she said.

  The Inspector looked at her. “What?”

  “Something you said to me just before we left the Silver Swan. You told me you were looking for James Paynton.”

  Nicholls laughed nervously, as if caught out.

  “That’s one mystery you can almost certainly solve for me.”

  “Yes,” Annabelle smiled, “but it raises yet another one: Why are you visiting a pedigree dog breeder in Upton St. Mary?”

  Nicholls stretched out his arm and checked his watch.

  “If you’re not in a rush to retrieve your car, maybe you can accompany me, and I’ll tell you on the way. I was supposed to meet him half an hour ago.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “IS THIS NOT a strange time to be running errands, Inspector? You’ve only just discovered a dead body,” Annabelle asked, as she settled herself into the passenger seat of the Inspector’s car. “Shouldn’t you be investigating, um, something?”

  “If I had to take a break, now is the best time. The boys are out looking for Mildred’s mechanics, and Harper needs to conduct the post mortem and get back to me with her results. I can’t do much more right now.”

  “I see,” Annabelle nodded.

  “Anyway, thank you for helping, Reverend,” the Inspector said as he put the car into gear and urged it out into the road. “Today is going to be very busy, what with all this trouble. Any time saved is much appreciated.”

  “Please, think nothing of it, Inspector,” Annabelle smiled, before noticing the small screen perched in the middle of the Inspector’s dashboard. She pointed at it quickly and looked at him with bewilderment. “But you’ve got a GPS? Won’t that get you to Paynton’s place?”

  “That thing?” Nicholls said. “Never use it. Can’t stand them. Give me a proper map any day.”

  Annabelle chuckled and leaned toward him. “Something of a technophobe, are we? An old-fashioned man? These GPSs are really rather simple to use, you know, once you learn the ins and outs.”

  “Oh, I know how to use it alright,” the Inspector responded dismissively.

  “Then why do you prefer a map?” Annabelle inquired. “A GPS is so much easier and faster. And safer. You can’t exactly open a map every few minutes while driving. Especially along these lanes. You need to keep your eye on the road.”

  Nicholls sighed deeply, as if his reasons were a long and deeply held burden.

  “I don’t like the GPS for exactly those reasons. It’s easier and faster.”

  Annabelle furrowed her brow, wondering if she had misheard the Inspector. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “Reverend, my job depends on me having tightly-honed instincts. I need a sharp mind, keen eyes, and quick wits. But it’s very difficult to maintain those when you have a hunk of plastic and a microchip doing most of your thinking for you.”

  “Ah,” Annabelle said, nodding her head. “I understand. Turn left here, by the way. James lives about a mile up this road.”

  The Inspector followed her direction, then said, “What will you do about your car?”

  “I shall call a tow truck. It should be alright. I steered it off the road when the engine stopped.”

  “Well, I’ll happily drive you there once I’m done with my appointment.”

  “Thank you,” Annabelle said, pausing briefly before adding, “I must say I’m incredibly curious as to why you’re visiting a dog breeder.”

  “Ah,” the Inspector said, remembering his promise to reveal all to the Reverend, “Well, my ex-wife got Lulu. My dog.”

  “Surely not!” Annabelle exclaimed. “You adored that dog!”

  “I did,” Nicholls sighed. “But so did my wife. Not as much as me, but enough. It was the only aspect of the divorce that we fought over.”

  “I’m sorry, Inspector.”

  Nicholls breathed deeply. “It was inevitable. I’m a detective. It’s a difficult job, and the hours can get very long. I had a neighbor who fed her when I was stuck at work, and a few regular dog walkers, but… It wasn’t enough. Not for the judge at least. ”

  Annabelle paused for a few moments as the Inspector’s voice trailed off. There was not much she could say, and she knew that with men such as the Inspector, listening was often more appreciated than offering advice. After a few moments, the vast property belonging to James Paynton came into view, and Annabelle took the opportunity to distract the Inspector from his thoughts.

  “Here we are,” she said, pointing at the buildings.

  Beyond the immaculately maintained wooden fencing surrounding its large, verdant-green front lawns, the modern, two-story, L-shaped farmhouse stood proudly at the end of the long driveway. As the Inspector drove up, he took notice of how well-off the inhabitants were. The house itself was lush with decoration. Well-maintained, overflowing hanging baskets and window boxes were arranged around an exquisitely made front door and solid window frames. To one side of the house, a large conservatory was attached, perfectly placed to receive just the right amount of light, even on the most overcast days. To the other were three paddocks that contained five horses that looked, to the Inspector’s untrained eye, like thoroughbreds, their coats gleaming as they quietly grazed. Two Range Rovers with personalized number plates and a luxury convertible were parked next to a bank of stables to the rear. To the back of the farmhouse were two brick-built barns, and no fewer than four pens of varying sizes. It was apparent, even from a distance, that an extraordinary amount of money was swashing about here and that even the most casual observer was to know it.

  The Inspector pulled up and parked between a classic Jaguar and a boat trailer. He turned the car engine off and looked around.

  “Are you sure this is the place?”

  “Of course, Inspector.”

  Nicholls whistled softly. “The dog business certainly pays better than the police force.”

  “Well, James’s dogs are sought after by people from all over Britain – perhaps the world. They do very well in dog shows. His Basset Hounds are particularly popular.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “I take it you’re here in search of a new dog?”

  “That’s the plan,” he said, opening the door.

  “Inspector! Wait!” Annabelle said, clutching his arm
to stop him getting out of the car. He turned around and looked down at her hand in surprise. “I’ve just realized! Oh yes! It’s almost too perfect!”

  “What is?” Nicholls said bemused.

  “A few weeks ago, after morning tea, Philippa and I were inspecting the grounds of the church when we stumbled upon a stray and her pups amid the undergrowth beside the cemetery. We immediately called Janet – she runs the local dog shelter – and asked for her help. Unfortunately, due to a mishap between a Doberman and a pit bull, she couldn’t take all the pups, so Philippa and I decided to take care of two of them until she’s ready.”

  The Inspector’s face remained blank, as if he was expecting more. “Well, that’s a nice story. I hope things resolve themselves soon.”

  “But don’t you see, Inspector? The timing is simply perfect! It’s almost as if it were planned by the Lord himself!”

  With growing exasperation the Inspector closed his car door again and turned his attention fully to Annabelle. “What are you trying to say, Reverend?”

  “Why, you should adopt the pups!”

  “Oh, boy,” Nicholls said, looking upward and sighing. “One minute somebody’s taking the only dog I have away from me, the next I’m getting offered more dogs than I can handle.”

  “They’re simply delightful little creatures, Inspector. Impossible not to love.”

  “What are they? Labs? German Shepherds?”

  “Well… They’re, um, mixed.”

  “Mongrels.”

  “Yes, but they’re extremely well-behaved. Energetic and full of beans, but they haven’t destroyed anything important yet.”

  Nicholls raised a suspicious eyebrow.

  “Nothing but an old cushion I never liked anyway,” Annabelle said, getting flustered beneath his intense gaze, “a few items of clothing, maybe, but I had too many. Regardless, it’s all just part of their charm. You really must see them, Inspector.”

  “Look, Reverend, ordinarily I’d jump at the chance to help you out and take one of them off your hands—“

  “It’s not for my sake, Inspector!” Annabelle exclaimed, her blush of embarrassment turning into one of exasperation. “It’s for theirs! These dogs need a home! The dog shelter is wonderful, but they deserve an owner who will love and respect them!”

  “Don’t these dogs need a home, too?” the Inspector asked, gesturing toward the farmhouse.

  Annabelle snorted haughtily. “These are pedigree dogs. They are bred to order. People pay hundreds of pounds for the privilege of giving them a home!”

  Nicholls softened his gaze and breathed deeply for a few moments, allowing the silence to take the edge away from the terse conversation.

  “Reverend. My job is very demanding,” he said, in a soft, persuading voice. “I need a dog that is disciplined, healthy, well-adjusted. I simply wouldn’t be able to handle taking in a stray.”

  “Hmph,” Annabelle grumbled, folding her arms and looking out of the side window. “You know, I once read a rather apt saying: ‘People who love dogs, love them all. People who love themselves will pick an expensive one.’”

  Nicholls couldn’t recall having heard that particular saying before and looked at Annabelle quizzically. He opened his mouth to say something but found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he shook his head gruffly and stepped out of the car. Annabelle pursed her lips then quickly did the same.

  James Paynton was already emerging from behind the farmhouse. He was a short man, with a bald pate and a broad, round nose. His puffy cheeks revealed deep dimples whenever he smiled, which he did frequently.

  “Hello there!” he called, as they marched toward him. “Inspector Nicholls, I presume.”

  The two men shook hands firmly, then James directed his smile at Annabelle.

  “Reverend, it’s nice to see you. I wasn’t expecting you, too.”

  “We bumped into each other on the way,” Nicholls explained.

  “I helped him find your, um, farm.” Annabelle added.

  “Sorry I’m so late,” Nicholls said, grimly.

  “It’s alright,” James smiled. “I understand your job is unpredictable.”

  Nicholls glanced at Annabelle. “It certainly is.”

  “Good,” James said, clapping his hands together. “Shall we?”

  “Lead the way,” the Inspector replied, as they proceeded to walk toward one of the barns.

  “So, as I told you over the phone,” James began, the Inspector walking beside him, Annabelle remaining a half-step behind in order to absorb the rather pleasing surroundings, “I breed three types here: Bernese Mountain Dogs, Border Collies, and Basset Hounds – though as I said to you over the phone, the hounds are exclusively for hunters. I have a waiting list for those so if that’s what you’re looking for you’re out of luck, I’m afraid.”

  The barn was a long rectangle that seemed to radiate warmth. They walked through the open entrance, the gravel of James’s driveway giving way to the feeling of soft grass and hay underfoot.

  “The dogs have access to an indoor and outdoor area. They tend to wander in and out depending on the weather, their temperament, and their inclination. I usually allow the dogs the run of the field, while the puppies are kept in a smaller pen. If it’s raining, they are kept inside, separated by breed, of course, though I do let them intermingle every once in a while; it keeps them stimulated. I’ve kept them all in the pens today so you can take a good look at them. I’d just about given you up so it’s lucky you arrived just now, I was about to let them all out.”

  Against the two length-wise interior walls of the barn were fenced areas. On one side, there were two gigantic yet composed dogs lying lazily on the ground. They raised their eyelids upon seeing their visitors, their thick, shaggy fur hanging off their bodies like luxurious blankets. Around them a half-dozen smaller versions scampered and rolled. James walked up to a gate and unlatched it.

  “These are the Bernese Mountain Dogs,” he said, holding the gate open for the Inspector and Annabelle to step through.

  The puppies gazed at the intruders doubtfully for a moment before one adventurous pup crawled over to Annabelle and flopped over to better receive the vigorous tummy tickling that Annabelle immediately gave him.

  “Oh, they’re simply gorgeous!” Annabelle squealed.

  Seeing their sibling receive such attention, the rest of the puppies ran toward the visitors. The Inspector bent down and playfully rolled his hand around the puppies thick coats.

  “These pups are knocking on three months, now,” James said, observing the scene with his fists on his hips, “so they’re ready to be rehomed. To tell you the truth, these are my favorites. Very intelligent, very sympathetic dogs.”

  The Inspector stood up and backed away toward James, watching as one of the adult dogs lumbered over to Annabelle.

  “Oh! Aren’t you a friendly fellow!” she said, still crouching as she was greeted by the dog’s tongue licking her neck. The dog panted and shook a little. Annabelle felt a warm, light shower douse her face.

  “Are they strong dogs?” the Inspector asked, as the big canine pressed evermore affectionately against the Reverend. She put a hand out to steady herself.

  “Strong as an ox, though you wouldn’t know it, what with how gentle they are.”

  “Hmm,” the Inspector said, as he watched Annabelle push the dog away and stand upright, noticing that the dog’s height was level with her hip. “Rather big, aren’t they?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” James replied. “Big in all sense of the word. Big brains. Big hearts. Big coat of fur. Why? Is that a problem?”

  “Well, my place isn’t small, but it’s no farmhouse either,” Nicholls said, looking around him.

  “I understand,” James said, snapping his fingers and turning quickly, “come with me. I’ll show you the Border Collies.”

  The Inspector obliged, following James’s swift gait out of the barn. Later he told Annabelle he had no idea that the adult Bernese had leaped up
and placed its paws on her shoulders.

  “Now this is more like it!” the Inspector said as he leaned over the fence and caught sight of the excited, playful collies.

  “I trust you’re familiar with this breed?” James said, unlatching the gate and stepping through.

  “Indeed I am,” Nicholls said, immediately crouching to play and roll the pups. “Come here, you!”

  “Well, there are seven puppies here, two haven’t been reserved yet. This one over here with his ears in the air, and that one by your left foot.”

  “Ah, this one?” the Inspector said, immediately ruffling the ears of the one next to him. “Oh, this one looks a right little scamp – aren’t you?”

  “I’m happy to let you have one, but these were only born eight weeks ago. They’ll need to stay here for a while longer. I don’t let my pups go until the tenth or preferably twelfth-week mark.”

  Nicholls stood up.

  “That sounds reasonable to me.”

  “Great,” James said, as they left the pen and he closed the gate behind him. They walked slowly out of the barn into the cool air once again.

  “So what should I do? Come back in a few weeks?”

  “Well, usually I’d ask for a deposit and then let you know when I feel the pup is ready to go, but seeing as it’s you, Inspector, I don’t think there will be any need for that. I’ll give you a call when he’s ready, and if you’re still interested, he’s yours.”

  Nicholls smiled gratefully. “I can’t really ask for a better deal than that, can I? Thank you, James.”

  “No problem,” the dog breeder beamed. “Hey, where is the Reverend?”

  The two men scanned their surroundings quickly before their gaze settled upon the first barn. With impeccable timing, Annabelle staggered out of the open entrance, squinting in the daylight. She was hazily brushing at the large amount of grass that now clung to her clothes. Her disordered hair seemed to have been shambolically thrown in every direction, itself having gathered numerous strands of hay and straw, presumably from the barn floor.

  “Are you okay, Reverend?” James called as they walked toward each other.