Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“What is she, your number one suspect?”
We crossed the road at the lights and finally made it onto the promenade. There was a bit of a queue at the fish and chip shop, but nothing too crazy, so we hurried over there and got in line.
“I don’t know.” I lowered my voice. “Did you know he’s not from here?”
“Yeah. He’s a bit Welsh, isn’t he?” Ash asked, keeping her voice down, too.
“They knew each other in college,” I explained, leaning in. “Apparently, she was the only reason he made through his exams, but they lost contact shortly after.”
“Huh. How’d he end up here?”
“He said he’d moved away, and his family insisted he join them on a holiday a couple of years ago, and it just happened to be Fox Point.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Yeah. It’s a popular spot, isn’t it?” I shrugged. “They ran into each other, got talking, and she confided in him about her marriage. He said he literally went home, finished out his booked jobs, then found a place here and moved.”
Ash’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a big thing to do on a whim just for someone you once knew.”
“That’s what I thought. I know your grandma said they were just friends, but what if they aren’t?”
We shared a look, shuffling forwards in the line.
“Can you blame her?” Ash said after a second. “I won’t judge her if she was having an affair. I think an abusive spouse is about the only person you can justify cheating on, to be honest.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“I don’t know, I didn’t get those vibes from her. Honestly, she seemed kind of broken,” I replied, just as we got to the front of the line.
Carolyn beamed at us from inside the small building that made up the most popular fish and chip shop in Fox Point. I was never quite sure what to call it—it wasn’t quite a hut, not quite a building, but it was a permanent structure that had been here for as long as I could remember.
And it had always had the best fish and chips in town, so I didn’t really care what it was.
“Ash! Charlotte. It’s good to see you both. What can I get for you?” Carolyn asked, wiping the counter down.
“Just two portions of fish and chips, please,” Ash answered, then looked at me. “Do you want curry sauce?”
“What kind of question is that?” I asked. “You always get curry sauce. You’re a charlatan if you don’t.”
Carolyn chuckled. “Two curry sauces?”
Ash wrinkled her nose up. “Carolyn, you know better than that. One curry sauce, one mushy peas.”
I mirrored Ash’s expression. “I’m regretting this friendship. You’re the charlatan.”
Carolyn laughed again, and Ash tapped her card against the machine before I had a chance to get mine out.
She grinned at me. “I’m not regretting it. Even if you do eat your fish and chips wrong.”
I shook my head and stepped to the side while Carolyn wrapped another order in an extra layer of newspaper and handed it off to the customer before us. “Nonsense.”
Carolyn chuckled and leant forwards. “Finally, five minutes. How are you both?”
“Good, thanks,” Ash said. “By the way, Carla’s order will be in by lunchtime, if she wants to come and get it tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ooh, thanks. I’ll let her know in the morning,” the older woman replied. “How’s the B&B, Charlotte? Do you have it back yet?”
I nodded. “I got the keys this morning.”
“Good. Bloody ridiculous of them to keep it for this long, if you ask me,” she said, leaning against the counter and shaking her head. “The Fox Point police force could get shot at by a lone gunman and still not know who pulled the trigger.”
I fought back a smile. That was quite the analogy.
Did anyone in this town have a good opinion of the police?
All right, so I’d only heard Ash and Carolyn’s, but I’d bet they weren’t the only ones who thought they were useless.
“It’s fine. I can’t do a lot there anyway, so it wasn’t the end of the world.”
“But still. It’s not like you killed the sorry bastard,” Carolyn replied.
“Lyn!” Walter, her husband and the resident fish frying expert, scolded her. “Don’t speak ill of the dead.”
“If he didn’t want to be spoken ill of in death, he should have been a better person when he was alive,” she retorted smartly.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Steph said from behind me.
I turned to look at her. “Hi, Steph.”
Carolyn froze. “Hi, Stephanie. We were just, uh…”
“Talking shit about your dead ex,” Ash offered.
That… was not the most helpful thing she’d ever said.
“That’s why you don’t speak ill of the dead,” Walter grumbled, somehow audible over the telltale sizzle of red-hot oil that’d just had something fresh lowered into it.
It was hard to argue with him.
“You should hear what I’ve said about him,” Steph said nonchalantly. “Surprisingly cathartic.”