Lost Cause (A Daisy Dunlop Mystery ~ Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Daisy had hardly slept. She might as well have sat up all night. Solomon hadn't shown up, and Paul still hadn't called to say he'd arrived in Cheshire. She switched on the bedside light. Her phone showed it was a little after six. No point in lying around any longer. In fact there was no reason for anyone to be a sluggard. Solomon was supposed to be working, not screwing. He'd said he'd be back for breakfast, and her stomach was ready to eat. She struggled into a sitting position, leaned back against the pillows, and punched the button on her phone to speed-dial Solomon's new number. His phone rang and rang. When she thought he was never going to respond and she'd be put through to his voice mail, the call was picked up.

A deep male voice sounded in her ear. "Hello, who is this?"

Her heart raced. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. She'd heard it on the office intercom often enough. Clive Lewis. She hung up and stared at the phone. A check of the call log confirmed she'd called Solomon. Why the hell did Clive have Solomon's phone? If some breathy female had answered she wouldn't have been surprised, but Clive was definitely not Solomon's type.

Daisy clambered off the bed and dragged her clothes on as quickly as she could. Her hair was a riot of curls. She should have done something with it after her shower the night before. The best she could do now was to tie it up in a ponytail. She needed to find out what had happened to Solomon. If there was a reasonable explanation for Clive having his phone she couldn't imagine what it was.

She ran through ideas as she brushed her teeth, grabbed her jacket and bag, and then ran downstairs. The fire had burned out, and there was a chill in the air, giving the house a strangely empty feel. Should she call the cops? And tell them what? Solomon went out and didn't come home and a well-respected lawyer with an interest in a local homeless charity answered his phone. That sounded stupid even to her. What she needed was proof he was really missing and to get that she needed to get out there and start looking. First problem, she had no wheels. Solomon had the Aston Martin and the four-wheel drive was safely tucked up in his garage. If she wanted to take it she needed keys, and they were last seen on the bunch Solomon had in his hand when he left the night before.

He had to have a spare set somewhere, but where? Daisy prowled the house, opening and closing drawers and hunting through cupboards. No keys, although Solomon had an interesting stash of DVD's in his bedside cupboard. She returned to the kitchen and tried to think like Solomon. Where would he keep something important? The study. Had to be. It was the only place she hadn't checked.

The sound of the key in the front door gave her a start. She dived through the kitchen door and came to a stop. A short, plump, middle-aged woman with gray hair that surrounded her face like a halo of wire-wool closed the front door and smiled at her.

"You must be Daisy. Solomon said you were staying."

"He did?"

"Yes. I'm Mrs. Brown."

"Sorry. He never mentioned you."

"No reason he should."

Daisy watched the woman take off her coat and hang it on a peg. She seemed very comfortable in Solomon's home so she was unlikely to be a threat. Besides she seemed to have got through security without a hitch. "Are you a relative of his?"

She laughed. "No, poppet. I'm his cleaning lady."

Daisy smiled. Of course. The git said he had a cleaning lady. In fact, it was a wonder he didn't have a butler and chauffeur as well. "Do you have a key to his study?"

"I've got a key to everything."

Daisy could kiss her. "Awesome. I need to use the four-wheel drive, but he forgot to give me the spare key. I've hunted the house top to bottom and can't find it."