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Lucy had popped over, ostensibly to borrow a hoe for the garden, and ended up staying for coffee and cake. But from the minute she arrived, Alexia had been itching to get back to her MacBook.
“What you’re working on? Beavering away over there, all secret squirrel.”
Alexia grinned. “So what am I, a squirrel or a beaver?”
“You’re a politician, honey: avoiding the question.”
“Not anymore I’m not.”
“So what are you working on? It’s not Teddy’s case, is it? Because
I really think you need to put that out of your mind. There’s nothing you can do from here.”
“I have put it out of my mind.” Alexia shut the computer and joined Lucy at the kitchen island. “And it’s not Teddy’s case.”
Lucy had an uneasy feeling. “What then?”
“It’s . . . something else I’ve been working on,” Alexia said evasively. “It’s not important.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Okay, okay.” Alexia capitulated. “It’s a cold case I’m looking into. You remember I told you about Billy Hamlin, the boy who—”
“I remember,” Lucy cut her off.
“And you know he was killed?”
Lucy nodded.
“Well, so was his daughter. Jennifer. She was murdered last year, in truly horrific circumstances, and no one seems to have any idea why, or who did it, or anything.”
Lucy frowned. “Okay. Well, that’s sad. But what does it have to do with you?”
“When Billy came to England those times, when he tried to see me and I turned him away, he was trying to tell me something about his daughter. I think he was scared something bad was going to happen to her.”
“And then something bad did happen to her.”
“Yes.”
“And you feel responsible?”
“Not responsible, exactly. But I feel I owe it to Billy to help now.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t help then,” Alexia said simply. “I could have. I should have. But I turned my back on him. Maybe, if I’d listened, Jenny would still be alive today.”
“That’s crazy talk,” Lucy said robustly. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“I started looking into Jenny’s murder last year, back when I was still in office. But there was so much going on then, at home and at Westminster. I didn’t have time to focus on it. Now I have nothing but time.”
Lucy pushed away her half-eaten cake. “I thought you came here to get away from the past. From all the stresses back home.”
“I did,” Alexia admitted. “And I have. Mostly.”
“Then why reopen such an awful can of worms?”
“Because nobody else is going to, Luce. No one cares who killed Jenny Hamlin. The media moved on after a couple of weeks. The police have totally given up. Maybe, if I can uncover the truth, if I can find some justice for Billy’s daughter, I can make amends.”
