For Death Comes Softly Read Online Free Page B

momentarily disappeared. I decided to rub things in a bit – he owed me that luxury, at least.
    â€˜I think it’s a little late for that,’ I said. ‘You’re already involved in very nearly causing the death of a police officer.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t have put it quite like that,’ he ventured.
    â€˜No, I’m sure you wouldn’t,’ I said.
    â€˜I’m not sure whether you’re making veiled threats or teasing me,’ he said, his voice gentle now. ‘I don’t blame you in either case. I am so sorry for what you have been through, and I just want you to know that you are welcome to stay in my home for as long as you like. Take all the time you can to get over this.’
    I didn’t respond for a moment. When he spoke again his manner was ever so slightly hesitant, his voice sounded just a little doubtful.
    â€˜Assuming you want to stay on Abri, of course . . .’
    I did want to stay – although only a couple of days of my planned holiday there remained, I had a further week’s leave before I was due back at the nick and no special plans. I wanted to stay with Robin Davey. That was my trouble. I hadn’t learned about men at all as I had grown older, just got stupider as every day passed, in fact.
    At least I managed not to sound too childishly eager when I eventually responded.
    â€˜A few days would be good,’ I said lightly. ‘I still feel a bit shaken up, to tell the truth. Some time to recover quietly would go down well . . .’
    He was immediately all concern again. He leaned close to me, reaching out with one hand to touch my shoulder.
    â€˜Of course, you’re shaken up,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a very frightening experience. I’ll get the rest of your things brought over from the Old Light, then you must try to relax. And just remember, if there’s anything else I can do to help I will, anything at all . . .’
    I swear my heart fluttered. The expression there’s no fool like an old fool could have been invented for me. At thirty-five I could still be bowled over like a teenager. Loneliness was small excuse.
    I watched Robin Davey eat his dinner and fortunately was not actually force-fed by Mrs Cotley, who was probably so thin because she was so busy feeding up everybody who came into her clutches that she never had time to eat anything herself, although she did express some concern about my not having eaten for at least an hour.
    Soon after Robin returned to whatever it was he was doing at the farm, Jason Tucker and his father Frank arrived as promised.
    Mrs Cotley led them into the drawing room to me as if I were some ancient dowager aunt granting an audience, which at once made me feel at a disadvantage even though the company was hardly overbearing. Frank Tucker was a small scraggy man. His sinewy arms protruded from rolled-up woollen shirt sleeves and his trousers flapped around exceptionally skinny legs. Strange that he had fathered so strapping a son. Both men looked red-faced and uneasy, although they couldn’t have been more uneasy than me.
    â€˜Miss, ’e’s a good boy, my Jason, but ’e should have knowed better than to do what ’e did,’ said Frank, in an accent much broader than his son’s, but a voice just as soft and gentle. His blue eyes, bright as Robin Davey’s, shone earnestly out of a sharp-featured brown leather face. ‘’E knows he mustn’t take no one out in thigee boat. Don’t ee boy?’
    Jason nodded shamefacedly. ‘I thought I was better, miss, honest I did,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t had a turn, oh, not for two years nor more, ’ad I, father?’
    His father eagerly nodded his agreement.
    â€˜It’s all right,’ I heard myself say. ‘Just one of those things.’
    Abri was a holiday island. As a guest there I had been put in extreme danger. The island came under