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“Is this where you’re going to tell me to go home and mind my own business.”
He smiled. “You’re perceptive. No, I’m just going to ask you to be respectful of our families. They’ve been through enough. They’re trying to heal and don’t need the press asking a lot of intrusive questions.”
“They have a right to the truth,” I said rather arrogantly, taking a sip of the bitter amber beer. “DC Havard said the cases have gone cold. Someone needs to keep them alive.”
“DC Havard misspoke. Of course, everything is still being investigated. It will be until we find the girls. I will make sure of it. What we don’t need is the press getting in the way.”
“I won’t get in the way.”
“Look, all I ask is that you contact me if you need information.” He handed me his business card. “I will tell you what I know. Leave the families and community alone.”
I looked at the card in my hand. I knew when someone was trying to put me in my place, and I didn’t like it, but at least he was willing to share information. “Fine, tell me about Môr Haven Manor.”
His eyes narrowed. “You mean the Ellis estate.”
“Yes. Who owns it now? I asked. “I was told Mr. Ellis passed away three years ago.”
“It’s a family estate, so it went to his grandson.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”
“Rhys Hughes.”
“The caretaker?” I asked, surprised.
He laughed. “He’s hardly the caretaker. Rhys Hughes is the wealthiest man in Wales. Why are you asking about Môr Haven anyway?”
I shook my head. “It was just something I heard.”
“Well, stay away from it. Rhys is eccentric and a bit of a hermit.”
I put his card in my purse and smiled. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch if I have any questions.”
“Miss Bardot-”
I stopped him. “Please call me Navy.” I needed an ally in this town if I was going to make any progress.
“Navy, be careful. We still haven’t caught this person. It’s dangerous. Leave the detective work to the professionals,” he warned.
I nodded, standing up. “Thank you, DCS Davies.”
“It’s Morgan. If we’re going to be working together, you should call me Morgan.”
“Morgan,” I said with a brief smile before turning to leave.
I hurried out to my car. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. Two missed calls from Sam and a text asking me to call him. I put the phone back and started the engine, pulling out onto the road. I needed a break in the story, and soon. The last thing I wanted was to return home with my tail between my legs, begging for forgiveness. No, Sam could wait for the moment.
* * *
I pulledonto the long drive of Môr Haven Manor, passing through the two stone pillars as I wound my way through the hidden valley until I came to the main house and parked the car. The heavy rain had softened into a light drizzle, and I pulled the hood up on my coat, getting out.
The door to the caravan opened, and Rhys Hughes exited.
“You’re back,” he said, somewhat surprised.
“You could have told me who you were.”
“I did.”
