The Little Village Christmas: The #1 Christmas bestseller returns with the most heartwarming romance of 2018. Sue Moorcroft
I just stick to one of my normal contractors?’
‘It’s not your fault.’ Gabe’s gaze flicked to Ben, though he continued to address Alexia. ‘Shane was Jodie’s boyfriend so we took her personal recommendation. I had no misgivings about it and she’s a partner in the business side.’
Alexia hugged her arms around herself. ‘When Dion’s finished, I’ve got to go home and talk to Jodie.’
‘I think we ought to go together. I’ll ring Christopher and advise him of the situation while we’re hanging about.’
As Gabe stepped away to make his call, Ben cleared his throat. ‘Alexia, please let me apologise—’
Alexia didn’t even look at him as she turned and strode into the Public. If her nose had tipped any further in the air she would have given herself a crick in her neck.
Then Gabe ended his call and returned. Ben turned to him. ‘She won’t let me apologise.’
The older man sighed. ‘She probably isn’t too bothered about your feelings right now because she’s facing the prospect of confronting her best friend about the boyfriend going missing at the same time as money and valuables. And when bad things happen to Jodie she can find it hard to cope.’ After a pause for this to be digested he added more gently, ‘You get off home, Ben. Give her time to calm down.’
Dismissed, Ben had little choice but to trail off in the direction of Woodward Cottage, zipping up his hoodie against the evening wind that had an edge on it for September, crossing Port Road and entering the quietness of the bridleway under the familiar weight of negative emotions.
But this time he knew exactly where his guilt and regret lay.
Alexia’s feet felt like lead weights, heavier with every step she took towards home.
Gabe seemed in no more of a hurry, scuffing gloomily through drifts of golden leaves. Alexia tried to rehearse what to say to Jodie but her thoughts kept flying back to the rage on Ben’s face as he’d questioned her. Though he’d tried to back up, her anger and disappointment had refused to let her listen.
When they reached the cottage she silently unlocked the glossy blue door, finding Jodie, still in her dressing gown but looking less hungover, lying on the sofa, tucking into what she always termed her ‘poorly food’ – salty crackers and Pepsi. She looked up from the TV as Alexia trailed into the room, Gabe on her heels. ‘So what’s going on with the roof?’ She was grinning, obviously ready to be told some funny story about why Gabe had phoned Alexia with news of missing roof slates.
Falling into a chair, Alexia was no nearer knowing how best to approach Jodie than when she’d left The Angel.
Thankfully, Gabe took the lead. In his deep, precise tones he explained to Jodie what had happened at The Angel.
Slowly, Jodie sat up, belting her dressing gown more tightly, frowning. ‘So someone’s broken in and stolen the old radiators and tiles? They’ve taken the slates off the roof?’
‘We can’t tell if they broke in, or whether they had a key, as the door’s gone.’ Gabe’s voice held the cautious note of someone pussyfooting about a subject.
Jodie’s gaze flicked between Gabe and Alexia. ‘What do Shane and Tim say? Have they seen anyone lurking around?’
Gabe fidgeted. ‘We haven’t been able to contact them. Have you heard from Shane?’
Jodie shook her head, but slowly, as if moving it too decisively might disturb something delicate.
Gabe glanced at Alexia but Alexia felt frozen, as if she were watching an oncoming car speeding towards them and was unable to suggest they jump out of the way.
Gabe turned back to Jodie. ‘I’m afraid there’s worse to come,’ he said gently. And he told her about the missing money. ‘I take it you have no knowledge of these transactions?’
Jodie gasped, clutching at the neck of her dressing gown as if holding herself together. ‘I haven’t had any reason to look at the accounts for days. How can the money have gone? Who’s taken it? It’s nearly £30,000 altogether. It can’t be gone!’ She scrabbled in her pocket for her phone and began to stab wildly at it.
Slumping more deeply in her chair, Alexia watched hopelessly, letting Jodie have her moment of denial but miserably aware that no amount of checking the bank balance was going to make the money miraculously reappear. She felt exhausted. It wasn’t until Jodie lurched into a high, keening sobbing as she tried fruitlessly to ring Shane once more that Alexia dragged herself over to the sofa to slide her arm around Jodie’s quaking shoulders.
‘What are we going to do? How can it have happened?’ Jodie wailed.
Alexia felt hot tears ooze from her own eyes. Whether they were for Jodie, Gabe or herself, she couldn’t have said. But, used to Jodie’s emotional reactions, Alexia patted her back while Gabe made hot drinks and fetched tissues. There was nothing to do when Jodie was locked in grief but to allow her to cry it out.
Eventually, when the storm had lessened, Gabe accessed the recent bank account transactions to show them that the money had disappeared in a series of withdrawals – cheques on Friday, when they’d all been preoccupied with preparing for the wrecking party, and the rest via Internet banking either side of midnight Saturday/Sunday.
‘You can see the name of the payees!’ crowed Jodie, hope dawning on her red and blotchy face. ‘Look, this one’s a company called Oatwood 2k Ltd. And this one’s —’
But Gabe was already shaking his head. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. Whoever did this is clever. They’ll have hidden their tracks. It will lead to a dead end.’
‘But how can it?’ Jodie demanded, expression bewildered. ‘It’s there, the name of the company—’
Gabe’s lips thinned. ‘If my experience is anything to go by the money will have been transferred out already and will have disappeared into a network of companies and individuals. The addresses of some will be rental properties and the current tenants will never have heard of Oatwood 2k or any of the others. Some will be legitimate entities, often blissfully unaware that their identities have been stolen and used to open bank accounts. Somewhere along the line the money will be drawn out in cash.’ Jumping up, he started to pace around the room. ‘There’s a very practised hand on the tiller during this voyage of deception, let me tell you. They knew precisely which gambles were worth taking. I, for one, was kept very busy on Friday and Saturday and had no reason to check the accounts.’
‘Same,’ said Alexia, picturing Shane ‘marshalling the troops’ as he called it while they’d all helped to get ready for the wrecking party. She curled up on the sofa as Jodie tried over and again to ring Shane. Alexia might not have Gabe’s banking experience but she was shrewd enough to know that whoever took the money must have had an in. ‘Jodie,’ she began gently. ‘Do you have an address for Shane?’
Knuckles whitening around her phone, Jodie began to bluster, brown eyes furious. ‘Honestly, Alexia, I can’t imagine why you’d bring up such a random question now, when we’ve got this to worry about. He lives in Manor Road in Bettsbrough, but I’ve only been a couple of times and I didn’t exactly note down the door number.’
Alexia glanced at Gabe. He gazed gravely back, compassion in the depths of his eyes. She tried again. ‘The police want to know. Someone has taken this money. Shane isn’t answering his phone so they need to find him—’
‘What?’ Jodie physically jumped away from Alexia. ‘Are you accusing my boyfriend? The bank accounts have been hacked. Obviously! It happens all the time. It’s random! Don’t you dare—!’
Gabe interrupted, voice soft. ‘But slates and doors, fireplaces