“Right.” Renie looked glum. “These emails look bad for Moira and—I assume—Patrick. Here’s another one. ‘I’m making an early night of it and going to bed. Wish you were with me. The sun is setting, but it always shines when we’re together.’ And how about this? ‘Your days are so full and my arms are so empty. I kiss the sprig of heather you gave me, knowing that though it is the last of the season and will wither and fade, our love will not.’ Double gack.”
Judith shook her head. “It’s a wonder we’re not gagging on our food. But how did these emails end up in my purse?” She put her napkin on the table. “Let’s call Gibbs to have him pick us up. I’m very curious about Chuckie.”
Renie polished off the last of her chips. “I can use my cell phone. What are you going to do with those emails?”
“I should turn them over to MacRae along with the silver case. It may be an heirloom,” Judith replied, “but I’d like to find out if my purse was a convenient stash or I’m being used.” She signaled to their server to bring the bill.
Renie had called Gibbs to tell him where they were. “Shall we meet you on the High Street?” she asked.
Judith waited for Renie to speak again. Their server nodded, and apparently went to fetch the bill.
“Okay,” Renie said into the phone. “We know where it is. See you there.” She rang off. “He has to collect his car from the mechanic. We’ll meet him at Archie Morton’s garage. It’s only a short walk from here off the beach road.”
Five minutes later, the cousins were walking down the High Street. Fluffy clouds flitted across the sun as a fitful breeze blew off of the sea. As they reached the end of the main thoroughfare, Judith glanced to her right at the cottage called The Hermitage.
“I don’t see a car parked there,” she said. “Patrick must own that red BMW sports model. Maybe he’s still comforting Moira.”
“I’m not convinced she needs comforting,” Renie remarked. “On the other hand, define ‘comfort.’”
As usual, traffic was sparse on the beach road. The gawkers who had ringed the cliff in the aftermath of Harry’s death had gone to ground. So, apparently, had the media. The only people the cousins saw as they walked toward Morton’s Auto Repair were two teenage boys, taking a breather from their bicycles and resting alongside the road.
“Gibbs isn’t on the beach,” Judith noted as they espied the garage’s office entrance. “Maybe he’s already here.”
The only person in the small, cluttered office was the brawny man who resembled Jocko Morton. “Are you Archie?” Judith inquired politely.
“Aye.” He frowned at her from under dark, bushy eyebrows. “What if I am? And ye are…?”
“The Queen of Sheba,” Renie snapped, apparently not taking a liking to the man’s attitude. “We’re here to meet Gibbs from Grimloch.” She grinned and looked at Judith. “Hey—I like that. ‘Gibbs from Grimloch.’ What do you think, coz? Could this be ‘Archie of Aberdeen’?”
Embarrassed, Judith stared at her shoes. “Ask him.”
“Okay, Arch, ol’ bud,” Renie said, “where’s Gibbs?”
“Gibbs isn’t here,” Archie replied, still frowning. “King Solomon’s not here, either. Why don’t you push off?”
“Why,” Renie retorted, “don’t you f—”
Judith swiftly put a hand over Renie’s mouth. “Sorry, Mr. Morton. My cousin’s…drunk.” She winced as Renie bit her. “We’ll wait outside.”
“Good idea,” Archie muttered.
Judith literally dragged Renie outside. “What got into you?” she demanded.
Renie’s brown eyes spit fire. “I don’t trust that guy. He’s not a mechanic. He doesn’t have dirt under his fingernails.”
“Oh, for—” Judith held her head. “He owns the shop. He probably has mechanics working for him.”
“He has pig eyes,” Renie said. “Just like his brother Jocko.”
“Forget it,” Judith said. “You can’t antagonize everyone in the village. You’re damned lucky Kate Gunn forgave you.”
“And vice versa,” Renie asserted, looking mulish. “I wouldn’t have bothered if I hadn’t been bored and wanting to help you sleuth.”
“I appreciate it.” Judith moved toward the road and gazed out toward Grimloch. “Here comes Gibbs.”
Renie was looking in the other direction. Judith followed her gaze. Around the corner from the small office was the repair area. Three men were working on two cars. A black Volvo sedan was up on a hoist; a green SUV had its hood raised. Five other vehicles including a gray vintage Morris saloon were parked behind a chain-link fence. Judith assumed the Morris belonged to Gibbs. A Doberman patrolled the area.
Three minutes later, Gibbs arrived, doffed his cap at the cousins, and went into the office. Five minutes passed. Renie was growing impatient. Judith passed the time by watching the mechanics, who appeared to be as diligent as they were good-natured. Although she couldn’t make out the words, she could tell from their manner that they were ribbing each other as they worked.
“What’s taking so long?” Renie demanded. “Does Gibbs have to work off the repair bill?”
“Here he comes,” Judith said as Gibbs and Archie Morton headed for the chained-off area. “I suggest we stand by the road. I don’t want you duking it out with Archie and causing another Ugly American scene.”
Almost another five minutes passed before Gibbs got behind the wheel and drove out through a gate Archie had opened for him. The saloon stopped so the cousins could get in. Gibbs merely grunted a greeting. His lined face still showed the ravages of his grandson’s death.
As they drove down the dirt track, Judith broke the silence. “Is Archie a good mechanic?” she asked.
Gibbs nodded. “The best. He’s kin.”
“My,” Judith remarked, “there are lots of family links here.”
“’Tis a village,” Gibbs pointed out. “Little changes in St. Fergna.”
“I guess not,” Judith said.
“I’ll let you off by the lift,” Gibbs said. “I keep the car in the shed on the beach. But the shed be gone now, blown up wit’ Harry’s car.”
Judith had forgotten about the wooden shed she’d seen on her first morning at Grimloch. She and Renie had been with Harry at the time. She shuddered in spite of herself. “Oh. Yes. We feel so awful about imposing on you and Mrs. Gibbs at such a time.”
“Canna be helped,” Gibbs said, slowing down as they neared the foot of the cliff. “Here ye be.”
Judith and Renie got out and went straight to the lift. The diving birds roamed the shore just where the low tide was lapping at the sands. More clouds were gathering, but the air smelled fresh and salty.
The lift had already been summoned from above. “Someone must be using it,” Judith said, craning her neck to see the cage. “It’s coming.”
The contraption made its usual rattle-rattle-bang noises as it descended. At ground level, Judith saw Chuckie grinning between the bars. He looked not unlike a chimp at the zoo.
“Hallooo!” Chuckie called. “You going up?”
“Yes,” Judith said.
Chuckie shook his head. “Not with me.” Still grinning, he poked the button and the lift began to ascend.
“Hey, twerp!” Renie called. “Come back here!”
The lift rose ten feet and stopped. It started again and went up another six feet. Judith could hear Chuckie laughing. At last, the cage came back to ground level.
“Hallooo!” Chuckie cried again. “Do you know the password?”
“It’s ‘I won’t beat Chuckie to a pulp if he lets us in,’” Renie snapped.
“Close enough,” Chuckie said, no longer grinning. “Hop in.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Gibbs?” Judith said, stepping into the lift.