“That house you are living in now.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. We had the money.”

“Yeah. Broadhead money.”

I felt like such a fool. Everyone knew about the money issues, except for me. Harry was making secret backroom deals with these criminals, and I was meant to be blissfully unaware, living in the house that they’d paid for. Steve had no reason to lie, and Kim had overheard it directly from Harry’s mouth, so the evidence was mounting. It was deeply embarrassing. I should have known every single detail about Harry, but everyone knew what he was up to, and they looked at me like I didn’t have a clue.

“Who was he trying to call then? These scumbag brothers?” I asked.

“No, but listen, I can’t talk right now,” Steve said, looking at Kim and then back at me, “I’ve got a prior engagement. Come back tonight alone, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“You’ll tell us now!” I demanded.

“Amelia, come on, let’s just come back later,” Kim suggested with a dry cough.

“Fine. But no more lies, okay?” I pointed.

“No more fibs,” Steve conceded.

Kim and I both left Steve’s dilapidated residence, and I felt like the air there had left a film of grime on my skin. I desperately rooted around in the glove compartment for a stray bottle of hand sanitiser or anything containing soap. Kim didn’t look too pleased either, and she was racing to get to the safety of my car. I felt like there were insects crawling all over me. I batted at my arms just to be sure. We both got inside, and I sighed audibly.

“That call couldn’t have existed. The police checked his phone records, and there wasn’t a call,” I said.

“Maybe he didn’t have a signal?” Kim mustered.

“We are surrounded by nothing but caravans, Kim. I’ve got five bars right now; what about you?”

“Five bars. It doesn’t necessarily mean Harry had a signal, though.”

“I’m more interested in why he wants me to come back alone. Don’t tell me Steve is an ex-boyfriend of yours too?” I joked.

“Absolutely not,” Kim said with disgust, “I don’t think he likes me. He tried it on with me a while ago, and I knocked him back.”

“I don’t think you’re alone in that club. Thankfully, I’m not a member.”

“Where do we go from here?” Kim asked with a shrug.

“I’ll drop you off in the town. I’ve got to go and see someone on my own.”

We drove through it; Kim wanted to be dropped off at one of the cafés near Filey Beach. As much as I didn’t really like her, it was probably useful to keep her around to balance me out whilst we were investigating. I was more of a blunt instrument, and Kim was more diplomatic. She was likely to get more out of people. I still refused to trust her, though, not even a little bit. Her little quip about Steve trying it on with her didn’t fool me; she knew the exact reason Steve didn’t want her there, and she was concealing it from me. Regardless, all would become clear that evening: I just had to be patient. I dropped her off at the curb next to the café, and she got out of the car.

“Keep me updated, yeah?” She asked.

“I will.”

“Just take what Steve has to say with a pinch of salt. He was almost blackout drunk that night.”

“I’ll text you if I hear anything.”

I watched Kim walk into one of the cafés at the seafront and took out my phone to send a text message to James. I wanted his insight into what the meeting with Steve could hold.

Why would Steve not want Kim at the meeting?

I sense that Steve feels his tale should only be heard by you.

Are you sure Kim can be trusted?

I see Kim takes great pride in her trustworthiness, and she will steer you in the right direction.

I started the car again and began driving down the promenade. As much as I didn’t want to, I needed to see Yvonne. She might be able to fill in some of the gaps. Yvonne lived just outside of Filey in a renovated farmhouse, which was Harry’s childhood home. She married John not long after Harry and I started dating, and John moved in. I thought it was a little quick, but each to their own. Just beyond Yvonne’s house was a sign that described Filey as a ‘treasure to discover.’ I’d never found any treasure here, only misery. The only thing I wanted to discover was the truth about Harry, and then I could leave this miserable place.

I drove down the crushed stone driveway, and I could see plumes of smoke emanating from the back of the house. Yvonne never liked to smoke inside because of misplaced pride but was happy to light one up in my kitchen whenever she visited us in Manchester. I didn’t bother with the front door. I just walked around the side of the house and found her furiously chain-smoking. I remained at a distance to avoid inhaling the cancerous fumes expelled by her lungs. I took a deep breath of fresh air before I turned the corner and prepared to be annoyed.

“Amelia? What are you doing here?” She coughed.

“Sorry to bother you, Yvonne. I’m back in Filey to talk to Steve. He knows something about Harry’s death,” I replied.

“Oh, love,” she started, crushing her cigarette on a fence post, “you need to try and move on. That’s what I did after Harry’s dad passed.”

“I know. But people weren’t saying Harry’s dad’s death was suspicious.”

“Suspicious?”

“Someone from the funeral told me he wasn’t even drinking that night. He was sober when he fell.”

“That can’t be right, and he had alcohol in his blood. It was in the toxicology report.”

“Yeah, but you know what Harry was like. He could drink anybody under the table. He was on non-alcoholic beer.”

“So, how did he fall?”

“That’s why I’m here. Apparently, he was trying to make a call just before he died, but I don’t remember anything on the police report of his phone. Did you see it?”

“I don’t remember. But I’ve got his last bill inside. He never changed his address.”

“Can I take a look?” I asked.

Yvonne led me inside through the kitchen doors and started rooting through a drawer in the kitchen island. She was idly flicking through envelopes and letters idly until she found what she was looking for. She placed it on the counter in front of me.

“There. No calls on the night he fell,” Yvonne said with a shrug.

“But Kim and Steve both saw him trying to make a call.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, love. Are you sure it was from that phone?”

“What do you mean, that phone?”

“Maybe he had more than one.”