The Missing Party-Girl: A Rags-to-Riches Cozy Mystery Romance by Nhys Glover (read after .txt) 📗

I know nothing about police work or missing persons, I asked Hugo Davenport, the executor of my aunt’s estate, for help. I wasn’t aware there was anything wrong with what he arranged for me.”

He stared at Adie for a moment longer, as if expecting her to confess to some terrible crime. When she said no more, he grunted and looked down at the manila folder in front of him.

“Although my superior directed me to make this file available to you, I cannot, officially and in good conscience, show it to you. However, if I was to step out to get refreshments for us all, and you were to use those five minutes to photograph the contents of the file, I would be none the wiser. Of course, if any of those photographs later turned up somewhere they shouldn’t, I would have no hesitation in arresting you, Miss Reynolds. Do I make myself clear?”

His stern tone had Adie shaking in her designer-label boots.

“I… Yes, of course,” she stammered again.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Hugo had overstepped. What if she’d made an enemy by using the Old Boys Network to help her?

The man stood, adjusted his suit, and headed for the glass door. Adie cast a furtive glance around the bull pen. Everyone seemed to have their heads down, focused only on their work.

Could they risk stealing a look into the file when they were so obviously on display? Maybe it was a trap.

Turning back to Cage, she noted the file they wanted had been pushed within reach of him as the detective moved from behind his desk. Using his back to hide his actions, Cage slid the file down onto his lap, quickly pulling out his phone. In no time at all, while she watched in guilty horror, he took a photo of each of the pages in the file.

It wasn’t a very big file. Adie would have thought a missing woman would have required more investigation than what was on a few typed pages. Yet what did she know of police investigations, in the UK or at home?

While she kept anxious watch out the windows, Cage finished his task, pocketed his phone, and replaced the file on the detective’s desk. By the time he was finished, the sweat was rolling off Adie’s brow, and her hands were shaking so badly she didn’t think she’d be capable of holding a cup of coffee without spilling its contents. She made a lousy spy!

Cage looked across at her, his expression annoyed. “If you look any guiltier they’ll all be in here, looking to find out what we’ve been up to. Have you no guile at all? This isn’t as bad as Adams is making out. He’s just following the letter of the law and covering his own back. It happens all the time. He probably resents having his time wasted more than he does being made complicit in this minor infraction.”

Adie nodded numbly, trying to keep it in perspective. It wasn’t as if this was a current case they might somehow compromise. Most of the people in it would be dead by now, or at the very least in nursing homes. Even if it ended up as a front page story in the paper, it wouldn’t mean a criminal would avoid punishment. It might embarrass the metropolitan police, but that would be about all.

Maybe that would be enough.

At that moment the door crashed open, making Adie jump. She let out a little cry as she did so, and jerked around guiltily.

Adams stood in the doorway with three mugs of steaming coffee in his hands. His expression had soured even more since he’d left.

He placed the mugs down and closed the door behind him.

Adie didn’t attempt to take one of the mugs that, from the look of them, contained milky tea, not coffee. Her mistake was laughable. Of course a British policeman would drink tea!

“We have a problem,” Adams said, returning to his seat and subtly sliding the manila folder back in front of him as he did so. “I was just informed that the digital copy of this file was accessed not long ago. No one in this century has accessed this file, and then it’s accessed twice, in a matter of days. That is very… troubling.”

He scowled at Adie, as if she was the one who’d accessed the digital files.

“What Ms. Reynolds didn’t mention is that her aunt decided to make a bit of a game of this search. If she doesn’t succeed in uncovering the missing woman, a million pounds of prize-money will go to her husband’s nephew. It was designed to keep Adie working on the mysteries, but it has become something far more sinister. There have already been attempted break-ins at her home, and her dog has been poisoned. Robert Winsley is doing everything in his power to stop Adie from succeeding in her quest.”

Adams frowned even more intently. I could almost read his mind. He didn’t need this rich woman’s treasure hunt causing him problems. It already looked as if there was a police officer who’d been bribed to give Winsley what we’d used our connections to acquire.

“What does this man expect to gain from breaking into your home and killing your dog?” Adams demanded, after an over-long pause.

“The digital recordings made by my aunt before her death. On each, she outlines the next mystery I need to look into. I expect he thinks that if he knows ahead of time what the mysteries are, he can find a way to stop me solving them.”

“And you think you have a chance of solving a cold case that fully trained and experienced detectives failed to solve fifty years ago?” Adams scoffed.

Adie shrank a little into her seat. “Probably not. But I’m not going to let Winsley win. I don’t want the money.