Clare scribbled down the advisor’s number and thanked Patrick Meikle for his call. Then she tapped the number into her phone. A recorded message told Clare that Natasha Lynch was on annual leave until Monday, so she left a brief message and rang off.

Chris tapped on the door and came in. ‘Phew, Clare,’ he said, waving his hand. ‘It’s like an oven in here.’

She looked at him. Her eyes hurt now. ‘Is it?’ She shivered. ‘I can’t seem to get warm today.’

‘You need to go home,’ he said. ‘You’re probably coming down with something. Go on, get home. Before you infect the rest of us.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing, Chris. I’ll be fine.’ Then she peered at him, forcing her eyes to focus. ‘What did you want?’

‘Oh, just to say the Mounties are calling me back.’

‘It’s not really the Mounties, is it?’

‘It is, actually. But they’ll find out which province he was working in and pass it on. Should get a call back later today, or tonight at worst.’

She nodded. ‘Okay, anything else happening?’

‘Nita’s got hold of the hire car company. There’s a tracker on the car so they should locate it pretty soon.’

‘Good.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘Actually, Chris, I really don’t feel great. Think I’ll go home for an hour or so. See if a nap will sort me out.’

‘I’ll drive you,’ he said. ‘Keys.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she said. ‘I’m quite capable.’

‘Clare, you’re as white as a sheet. Keys!’

She logged off her computer and followed him out to the car, muttering it was a lot of fuss about nothing. Sara followed behind in another car to take Chris back to the station. They arrived at Daisy Cottage just as Moira, Clare’s neighbour, was finishing Benjy’s walk. She took one look at Clare’s face and, after a hurried conversation with Chris, said she’d take Benjy back and keep him overnight.

‘You get yourself into bed,’ she told Clare.

Clare, who was too tired to argue, thanked them all, told Chris she’d be back in a couple of hours and staggered inside, shutting the door behind her. She let her jacket fall to the floor. Her head was swimming and she climbed the stairs on her hands and knees, fearful she might fall. Then she staggered to her bedroom and kicked off her shoes. She was shivering now and she cursed her summer duvet. The DCI’s navy woollen dressing gown hung on the back of the door and she pulled this round her and climbed into bed under the covers.

Day 8: Saturday

Chapter 35