‘Here on the island too?’ Guinevere asked. ‘By people like Arthur Haydock?’
Meraud’s expression grew cautious. ‘I don’t want to speak ill of the dead. You do know that he’s dead, right?’
‘Yes, I was there last night when it happened.’
Meraud looked her over, narrowing her eyes. ‘You don’t say. You must be stronger than you seem, girl. How old are you anyway?’
‘Twenty-four.’ Guinevere held her gaze. ‘Did everybody hate Arthur Haydock?’
‘I can’t speak for everybody else. But I can tell you a lot of people didn’t like him. He always knew better. He wanted to change things. He wanted to buy up our stores and turn it all into his concept.’
‘His concept for what?’
‘Cornisea.’ Meraud gestured around her. ‘This island, the whole place, one big tourist attraction. An open-air museum he called it even. But this is our home. We grew up here; we live here. We don’t want to be part of a museum.’
Guinevere’s thoughts were racing at this new information. So Bolingbrooke hadn’t been the only one under pressure from Haydock to hand over his property and cater to Haydock’s plans for the island. ‘How did he respond to your objections?’
‘He laughed them off. He said times are changing. We could live on the mainland and come here to work. In his open-air museum. Playing islanders for the tourists, instead of being islanders like we truly are.’ Meraud laughed softly. ‘Haydock should have known we would never fall for that.’
Guinevere studied her. ‘Now that he’s dead, his plans will probably never become a reality.’ And that gave several people a motive for murder.
Meraud held her gaze. ‘Probably not. And personally I’m not sorry for that. But I am sorry that he died. For his wife and daughter. Leah’s a sweet girl. She can’t help it that her father is … was so overbearing.’
Behind the counter was a whining sound and something falling over. Meraud looked down quickly. ‘Vivaldi! You naughty boy.’ She sighed and looked at Guinevere. ‘Jago forgot that my dog was old and obedient, snoozing in his basket during opening hours. This little fellow wants to play all of the time, and I can’t just lock up and leave for a beach walk in the middle of the day.’
‘I can take him along for a while. You’ve got a leash?’
‘Of course. Are you sure though? He’s a handful.’
‘Dolly will teach him to behave.’ Guinevere smiled. ‘Dogs learn behaviour from each other. Vivaldi will look to her and see how things are done.’
‘I hope so.’ Meraud went to a corner and picked the leash off a hook on the wall.
Vivaldi shot after her like a ball of fluff at high speed. He bounced into her and yapped.
Meraud leaned down to clip the leash onto his collar. She held it out to Guinevere. ‘There you go. Keep an eye on him because he’s smart. He senses when you’re not paying attention and he’s off like an arrow. Last week he even managed to use his front paws to slip the collar over his head.’
‘I’ll be careful. Hey, boy. Let’s go for a walk.’
Guinevere led both dogs out of the shop. Dolly was curious about her new friend, sniffing him and licking him. Vivaldi wasn’t interested in anything but the freedom beckoning outside the shop door. He pulled on the leash, wanting to go to the pier. Maybe he remembered Jago and wanted to look for him?
Guinevere walked fast enough to stay beside the dogs, not letting Vivaldi get the idea he was leading her. Dolly did her best to stay in front of him as well, consciously coming into his path so the puppy collided with her and was pushed back. He whined in indignation.
Guinevere spied a familiar tall figure on the pier. Oliver shaking hands with a man in his fifties, who had a shock of white hair and a briefcase in his free hand. That had to be the lawyer he had wanted to meet to discuss his father’s case.
After the handshake Oliver turned away and came walking towards them. Dolly spotted him and tried to race ahead, Vivaldi following her. Guinevere had to hold on tightly to the leashes to prevent them from being torn from her palm.
‘Hello!’ she called to Oliver. ‘Didn’t you take him to the castle?’
‘No, are you crazy? My father can’t know a thing about this. Hey, who’s that?’
Oliver sat on his haunches and let Vivaldi try to climb up his legs.
‘Vivaldi, Meraud’s new dog,’ Guinevere explained. ‘Jago got him for her. She’s not sure yet she wants to keep him, but I think she’ll come round.’
‘He’s a lot to handle for someone who has a shop to look after.’
‘He’ll calm down as he gets older. We can lend her a hand now.’
‘We?’ Oliver asked with a hitched brow.
‘Don’t you like him?’
Vivaldi had turned away from Oliver and wanted to walk onto the pier, but Dolly got in his way and stopped him. The puppy looked at her and then sat down on his rear.
‘See?’ Guinevere winked. ‘He already understands who’s the boss.’
Oliver shook his head as he rose to his feet again. There were tight lines around his mouth. Guinevere asked softly, ‘What did the lawyer think of your father’s case?’
‘Not looking good. He knows LeFevre. The ambitious type. He thinks he’ll want to make a big arrest, and quickly, to set an example. Show off that he doesn’t care for names and titles.’
‘He won’t arrest your father just to make a point.’
‘He did say he doesn’t have a lot of time for this particular case. What better way to wrap it up quickly than by arresting my father? I bet you his fingerprints are on the knife. That will seal the deal.’ Oliver clearly wanted to continue, but his phone began to ring. He pulled it out – one of the newer models, sleek and black – and answered. He looked at Guinevere with a surprised expression as he said, ‘Yes, Leah.’
So Haydock’s daughter was calling him.
‘Of course that’s fine, but … Where? What time?’ He checked his watch. ‘Yes, I can make that. All right.’
He looked stunned as he lowered the phone. ‘She just hung up on me without even saying goodbye. She wants to meet me to have a bite for lunch and discuss something important with me. She sounded rather mysterious. Maybe even … anxious?’
Guinevere pursed her lips. ‘Maybe Leah has an idea who killed her father, but she’s afraid to tell the police in case she can’t back it up?’
Oliver put the phone away. ‘I guess I’ll hear more when we meet. Are you coming along?’
Guinevere hesitated. ‘Didn’t she just ask for you?’
‘Well, the call ended abruptly. I’d rather you came along. Should we be seen together, I don’t want people to think I’m influencing Leah or anything. She is the victim’s daughter, you know. And I’m the son of the suspected killer.’
That was a real risk. ‘All right. I’ll come along. If you don’t mind the dogs. I just promised Meraud I’d take care of Vivaldi for a while. Where’s this meeting anyway?’
‘At The Bull and Crow, an inn in the countryside. We’ll need to drive out there. I’ll take my father’s’s car. It’s parked on the mainland because