‘Hello. I’m looking for Justin Holmes.’

He stepped forward into the light cast from a window and she recognized his face from the farm website.

‘You’ve found him. And you are?’

‘Caitriona,’ she said automatically, not wanting to give her familiar name. She held out a hand. He didn’t take it and she nervously dropped her hand by her side.

‘What can I do for you?’

There was no warmth to his eyes, and his rolled-up shirtsleeves exposed the wiry muscles on his forearms. He was blocking her exit.

‘I’ve been looking around the area . . . thinking of moving here. And I was curious . . . about your farm. Crops, is it? As opposed to . . . cattle . . . or sheep?’

He didn’t answer.

‘I love the country, green fields,’ she said, echoing Grace. ‘Then it goes all golden when it ripens. Wheat, anyway. Do you have wheat?’

‘We do.’ He spoke cautiously.

‘Ah, OK. Interesting. Yes . . . I was also wondering about how you grow it. You know . . . when you dig the field, plant the seeds. What kind of stuff you spray on the crops.’

‘Why?’

‘Sorry?’

‘I said, why? Why do you want to know that?’

She smiled disarmingly. ‘Just interested. If it’s going to be in my back yard.’

He studied her a moment. ‘They’re all standard, all approved.’

‘Herbicides?’

‘Naturally.’

There’s nothing natural about them, thought Kate. ‘What’s in them?’

‘Like I say, they’re all licensed.’

‘Can you tell me what the chemicals are? Just curious, you understand.’

‘Where did you say you were looking to move?’

‘Oh, in Ramsbourne.’

‘Yes, I got that. Where exactly?’

Flustered, she answered quickly. ‘Hawthorne Lane.’

‘Didn’t think there were any houses for sale there.’

Stupid, stupid, thought Kate. Why hadn’t she been more vague? ‘It’s only just come on the market. Not yet advertised.’

A pause and then he nodded, and she was unsure whether he believed her. ‘Good luck. I’m quite busy . . . if you don’t mind.’ He stood to one side, allowing her to walk out of the barn.

‘Sure. Nice talking to you, Justin. Great farm you’ve got. Who’s the owner here, by the way? Someone local?’ In fact, she knew it wasn’t. Her online investigation had told her the farm and the land were owned by a nondescript company that was registered in Cyprus, a place notorious for hiding the true individuals behind companies.

‘If you have anything you need to speak about, you can talk to me. Now, as I said . . .’ He smiled coolly. ‘Lots to do.’

‘Course.’

She walked back out into the sunshine, sensing him right behind her. Once on the track, she looked back to see that he was watching her, making sure she left. A few metres down, the track took a turn to the left, near some oak trees. She stopped. Checked behind again and saw she was out of view of the farm. Damn. That hadn’t gone how she’d wanted it to. She’d hoped to have more of a look around. But now Justin was about, she couldn’t check anything out. Unless . . . maybe he did have lots to do. Maybe he would be off in one of the fields in a minute. She looked up. Dare she?