Keya drew her lips together.
Ryan added quickly, “That’s what the social media posts are saying, anyway.”
Keya groaned and sloped back to her desk. She’d just collapsed onto her chair when Stan arrived carrying a tray of hot drinks.
Keya eyed him gratefully. “A cup of tea is just what I need.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Keya sipped her tea as she examined the stapled sheets of messages and phone calls logged from Daisy’s phone.
Using a pencil, she circled the calls to and from Ash. Ash made considerably more calls to Daisy than she made to him.
And then there were the messages. Keya started from as far back as they went, which was two years. They started with words of concern and support for Daisy and read like two close friends corresponding.
Then there must have been the time when Daisy and her father fell out as the messages were more urgent and Ashley insisted he could help. They turned from desperate to angry at the period Keya judged Daisy had moved out and into Mill House.
They included such phrases as, ‘Why go to him?’ and ‘I can look after you best’.
For a time, the messages had stopped, or Daisy had deleted them, and then they’d started up again, but Daisy’s tone had changed and was more impersonal. That was at the same time as the business-related messages had started.
Keya judged that the relationship between Ash and Daisy was civil before her death but strained, particularly on Ash’s side, but it was hard to tell because of the shorthand he used.
Keya finished her tea and sat back as Inspector Evans appeared in his office doorway. He asked, “What are your plans for today?”
“I think I’ll interview Ash, the young man I met in Daisy’s bakery. They’ve been messaging each other for a while and he clearly had a thing for her, and he wasn’t happy when she moved in with Theo.”
“Very good.” The inspector turned to Ryan and asked, “Constable Jenkins?”
“I’m working through Daisy’s emails, and then I’ll check her phone calls from the list Sujin sent over after unlocking her phone. I’m still waiting to hear back from her bank.”
“Let me know at lunchtime if you’re still waiting and I’ll contact them myself,” instructed the inspector.
This time, Keya drove directly to the Stone Circle Flour mill. Opposite the main mill buildings was a low single-storey stone building, painted white. She parked in front of it and entered the door marked reception.
A bell tinkled, and a voice called, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Several minutes later, a young man wearing a grey Stone Circle Flour polo shirt and black chino trousers emerged from a side office and said, “Sorry to keep you waiting, Officer. But if you want to speak to Mr Watson, he’s at home.” The young man leaned forward and lowered his voice. “He’s taking a few days’ compassionate leave, and who can blame him? Terrible business. We all loved Daisy.”
Which seemed to be the consensus wherever Keya went.
“Actually, I’m looking for one of your delivery drivers. Ash.”
“Oh,” the young man replied.
“Is that a problem?”
The man leaned further forward, and Keya stepped closer as he confided, “You mean Ashley Ricketts? He had a thing for Daisy. Apparently, they were childhood sweethearts, so he wasn’t happy when she moved in with Mr Watson. One evening, after I think he’d had a little too much to drink at the Malt Shovel, he stood outside Mill House and serenaded Daisy. But when Theo shouted at him to go away, he turned abusive. Quite the language he knew, if you get my drift.”
The young man raised his eyebrows before adding, “It was actually Daisy’s mum, Mrs Skinner, who persuaded him to leave.”
“But Ashley still works at the mill?”
“Yes. I think Mr Watson wanted to get rid of him, although he’s a very reliable delivery driver, but I suspect Daisy persuaded him not to. She was like that. Kind, considerate, and she stood up for the little people.”
Keya wondered if this young man considered himself to be one of the ‘little people’.
“Where can I find Ashley?” Keya asked.
The young man moved behind a desk and tapped a keyboard as he looked at a computer screen.
“He came back twenty minutes ago and is due out again in twenty-five. Shall I call him over?”
“Yes, please,” Keya replied.
The young man picked up a device and spoke into it.
Keya heard his voice echo outside.
“Please take a seat,” said the man. “And can I bring you a tea, coffee, or perhaps a glass of water?”
“A tea, please. And is there somewhere private I can speak to Ashley?”
“You can stay here. I have some work to do in Mr Watson’s office, but you can call me if you need anything.”
