I pulled Star’s HR file out of my bag.
“She wanted to tell me something,” I said. “Maybe she was worried about something – or scared even – so I’ve had an idea. This is her address. I thought we’d go round and…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Jamie. “You’re not going anywhere. You can’t break into a dead woman’s flat.”
“I agree,” Esme said firmly. “Even I know Star had health problems and she didn’t always look after herself. If the police don’t think there’s anything to worry about, then we should listen to them.”
I got up from the table.
“You didn’t see her face, Ez,” I said. “I can’t get it out of my mind. And I can’t help thinking that it must have had something to do with me. It’s my business, after all. What if she was just in the way? What if I was the real target?”
We all stared at each other for a moment and I could see I’d struck a chord with Esme. It had been awful when we’d been targeted before – one of the worst times of our lives.
I saw Jamie catch Esme’s eye and shake his head ever so slightly. She looked at me and I could tell she was wavering. So she was a lawyer and I was asking her to break into a house. We wouldn’t get into trouble – we had ways round that and she knew it.
The ring of the doorbell made us all jump. Esme gave me a glance that said ‘we’ll talk about this later when Jamie’s not around’ and went to answer it. Jamie and I looked at each other awkwardly. I thought Jamie was lovely and, like I said, I’d always be grateful for how caring he was with Mum, but he could be a bit risk-averse sometimes.
Esme poked her head round the kitchen door.
“Harry,” she hissed. “The police are here.”
Alarmed, I followed her back out into the hall. The tall detective I’d seen at the spa stood there.
“Harmony McLeod?” she asked, showing me a warrant card.
I nodded.
“DI Louise Baxter,” she said. “I just have a couple more questions about what happened today.”
“Let’s go into the living room,” I said, directing her. She walked into the room, looking round her – I could tell she was taking everything in. Then she turned round and smiled at me. She was very pretty.
“Call me Harry,” I said. “Please sit.” She sat on the sofa and I sat opposite her. Esme, who’d followed us into the room, perched on the arm of my chair nervously. She was one of those people who always got stopped on her way through customs because she looked guilty even when she hadn’t done anything and she was very twitchy now.
“I’m Harry’s cousin,” she said in a rush. “My name’s Esme. McLeod. Esme McLeod. I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“This isn’t really an official visit,” DI Baxter said, giving a quick, amused glance at Esme then turning her attention back to me. “I just thought you looked a bit odd back there. I wanted to see if there was anything else you wanted to say.”
I shrugged, wondering how much I should say.
“Just shock,” I said, not looking her in the eye.
“What was in the folder you took?” she said.
I screwed my nose up.
“You saw that?” I said, wondering if she’d seen how I’d found the right folder. She didn’t seem the type who missed much. She certainly wasn’t fazed by it though, even if she had seen, and that intrigued me.
“Uh huh.”
I thought about lying then changed my mind.
“It was Star’s HR folder,” I admitted. “I just wanted to have a look at it.”
“Why?” she asked. I felt like squirming under her cool, clear gaze.
“I just think there’s more to Star’s death than her dodgy heart.”
“Why?”
I looked at Esme for guidance – it wasn’t easy explaining witchcraft to people who thought it was all Harry Potter and Muggles.
“I just had a bad feeling,” I said pathetically.
“Why?” she said again. She was beginning to annoy me.
“It’s complicated.”
I paused for a moment, staring at DI Baxter. She was maybe a tiny bit older than me and a tiny bit taller. She had blonde hair in a pixie crop and cool grey eyes. She looked back at me and I knew she thought I was up to something.
“Try me,” she said.
A tiny smile edged its way onto my lips.
“I might,” I said. “But not now.”
DI Baxter stood up.
“If you change your mind, you know where I am,” she said, giving me a business card. Her long strides meant she reached the front door in seconds. “And Harry? Don’t try anything, will you? You’re not Miss Marple.”
I tried to look innocent.
“I wouldn’t dare,” I said. “Keep in touch.”
On the surface I meant she should keep in touch with any news on Star’s death, but deep down I was intrigued by her and I couldn’t help hoping I’d see her again.
I reached past her to open the door and as I did, Jamie came out of the kitchen.
“Lou?” he said in surprise.
“JB!” DI Baxter – Lou apparently – threw her arms out in joy. Jamie walked into her embrace and they performed a complicated manoeuvre that began with them bumping stomachs and ended with DI Baxter holding Jamie in a headlock. They were both laughing uproariously. I was not. Nor was Esme, who was watching on in something resembling horror.
“Ez,” said Jamie, unravelling himself from DI Baxter’s grip. ‘This is Louise. We played rugby together at uni.”
Esme smiled a small, tight smile.
“Lou,” Jamie continued, “this is Esme – she’s Harry’s cousin – and my girlfriend.”
“Fiancée,” Esme said, frostily.
“Really?” I said in surprise. “Since when?”
Jamie took Esme’s hand and grinned at DI Baxter and me.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Earlier I asked Ez to marry me and she said yes.”
Esme beamed in pride and snuggled up to Jamie in a proprietorial manner.
“That’s great news, guys.” I said, giving them both a quick hug. For some reason I felt very close to tears again.
DI Baxter looked awkward.
“I’d better go,” she said. Jamie looked crestfallen.
“Let’s get together soon,” he said. “We’ve got years to catch up on.”
She felt in her pocket and handed him the same business card she’d given me.
“I’d