“Holding up, but terribly worried about Nick. No one’s heard a word from him.”
“I’ll go and have a chat with her.”
He found Faith in the kitchen.
“I see you managed to conjure up something to feed the masses,” he told her, and was rewarded by a smile.
“I made Jack run me to the supermarket this morning, before he went to collect Winnie. There’s fresh bread and roast beef, if you’d like a sandwich.”
“I stopped on the way back from Bath, thanks.” He pulled out a chair. “Are you not joining in the Great Treasure Hunt?”
“I’m going in to the café until closing time. Buddy rang—he’s desperate for help. Sunday’s a big day, with all the weekend climbers.” She watched him, her chin up, as if bracing to counter a negative reaction.
“Are you sure you feel up to it?” Kincaid asked gently.
“I’m fine. And it’s only for a couple of hours.”
“I’ll run you up to the café, then, and pick you up at closing—”
“I can walk,” she said acidly. “I’m pregnant, not crippled.”
“Faith, it’s your safety I’m thinking about. Until we know more about what happened to Garnet—and to Winnie—I’d just as soon you didn’t go out on your own if it can be helped.”
“Don’t tell me you think Nick—”
“I didn’t say a word about Nick, and, no, I don’t think it’s likely that Nick had anything to do with Garnet’s death. But why do you suppose he hasn’t rung or come by the house?”
Faith grasped the back of a chair. “I don’t know. That day, when he came into the café and said I should check Garnet’s fender … I was so furious. I told him to get out. But we’ve had rows before.…”
“You don’t think he’s still angry with you—”
“And now, because of me, the police think he … I’d say he’s got good reason to be narked with me.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case. But if you like, I’ll have a look for him after I drop you at the café.”
“Could you?”
“Any suggestions as to where, other than the caravan?”
“He likes to go to the Galatea, on the High Street. And the Assembly Rooms café.”
“Do you know anything about Nick, where he comes from, for instance?”
“Somewhere in Northumberland. He’s got a first from Durham in philosophy or something. And I think his mum is well off.”
“So why is he working as a clerk in a bookshop?”
“I don’t know. He’s always on at me about finishing my education, but I can’t see that it’s done much for him.”
“What about Garnet? Do you know anything about her background?”
“Not much,” Faith replied. “Her parents died when she was fairly young, and she didn’t have any other family. She came to Glastonbury for the first Pilton Festival, in ’71, and stayed. What do you suppose will happen to her house?”
“Did she leave a will?”
“She never mentioned one.”
“If she died intestate it will be a complicated process, but I’d imagine the property would eventually go to the county. Unless, of course, some long-lost relative comes out of the woodwork.” It was a remote possibility that some distant cousin had decided the property might be worth murdering Garnet, but one they should check. “Do you know anything about Garnet’s friends?”
“She knew people in the Archaeological Society, because of her restoration work. And then there’s Buddy, of course. They’ve been friends for ages.”
“Buddy’s your boss?”
“Yes. And he’ll be run off his feet if I don’t get to work.”
Kincaid fished his car keys from his pocket. “Faith, on the night of Winnie’s accident, what exactly did Garnet say when she left the house?”
Faith snatched a shapeless cardigan from the peg on the kitchen door as they passed. “She said … ‘I have to go. I’m late for an appointment.’ ”
“And you assumed it was a delivery?”
“She’d said so in the café, when Winnie invited us to Jack’s.”
A peek into the sitting room showed Winnie not waiting for the tea he’d promised, but fast asleep on the sofa.
When they reached the Escort, Faith said, “I like your car. It’s purple.”
“Wild Orchid, actually. But it’s not mine. It’s Gemma’s.”
Faith gave him a sideways glance as she stretched the seat belt around her stomach. “She’s nice.”
“Very nice,” Kincaid agreed.
“She said she has a little boy, and she’s raised him by herself since he was born.”
“That’s right.” Kincaid answered cautiously, wondering where this was going. “It hasn’t always been easy, but she’s done a terrific job.”
“What about his father?”
“He and Gemma divorced just after Toby was born, and he disappeared not too long afterwards. Didn’t want to pay his child support.”
Faith digested this in silence as they drove to the café.
“Not all men are like that, you know,” Kincaid offered. “Are you wondering if your baby’s father will help you?”
“I don’t need his help.” Her voice had grown steely.
“Faith, Gemma and I went to see your parents this morning.”
“But I—You didn’t tell them—”
“No, we didn’t tell them where you were. But we did promise we’d tell you how much they want you to come home.”
“That’s the last thing my father would want!”
“I think your dad misses you. It’s just hard for him to say so. Sometimes love and anger and worry get all tangled up, and the wrong thing somehow spills out.”
Faith was out of her seat belt as he came to a stop in front of the café, but not before he’d seen the tears in her eyes.
“I’ve got to go. You can pick me up at five if you want.”
“I think I’ll come in for a cup of tea,” Kincaid decided abruptly. “I’d like to meet Buddy.”
“Charles Barnes,” said the café’s proprietor, gripping Kincaid’s hand. “But most folks call me Buddy. What can I do for you?”
“Just a few minutes of your time, if you can spare it.”
“Sure, I can. Any friend of Jack Montfort’s is a friend of mine.” Buddy motioned Kincaid to a seat at a nearby table. “He’s been good to Faith. Garnet would have”—he cleared his throat—“Garnet would have appreciated that.”
“Garnet was fond of Faith, I take it.”
“More than fond,” Buddy replied. Glancing at Faith, busy in the kitchen, he lowered his voice. “There were times I wished I’d never told her about Faith, thinking to do a favor for them both. Garnet worried about her so, you’d have thought she’d brought that girl into the world herself. And now what’s going to happen to Faith, with Garnet gone? I’ll keep her on here, after the kid’s born, but she’s got no place to live.”
“Have you any idea why Garnet was so concerned about Faith’s welfare?”
“She talked about the Tor, and about Faith being a magnet for the old powers, but there was nothing concrete. Garnet always had a bee in her bonnet about that stuff.”
“You knew her for a long time, Faith said.”
His weathered face creased in a smile. “We were going to change the world, you know? Who’d have thought we’d end up old hippies, stuck to the side of Glastonbury Tor like burrs. Although I guess you could say Bram and Fiona made something of themselves, but they couldn’t leave Glastonbury either.”
“You all knew each other?” Kincaid asked, surprised.
“Oh, we were tight, the four of us. Fiona and me, Bram and Garnet. But then things changed. They always do, don’t they? Bram set his sights on Fiona, and Garnet and I … Well, we made the best of things. Garnet bought the old Kinnersley place for a song, and I suppose I thought we’d just go on forever.…” He lapsed into silence.
“Why did Garnet never have the old farmhouse modernized?”
“Habit, mostly,” Buddy said fondly. “At first she couldn’t afford it, then she just got used to it, I reckon. And I think she liked the reputation it earned her.”