Page 109 of Criminally Yours

“Tell Bear I said hi,” Millie replied.

Strike shook his head as she reached the threshold of the pub.

“Watch the step.” Merryn was taller than average and bent to avoid clipping her head on the top of the doorway as Millie tripped and nearly fell into the pub, drawing everyone’s attention.

Silence descended as she readjusted the summer dress she hadn’t intended to wear beyond the confines of the safe house.

Elsie waved them over to a table.

“Three ciders, Larry,” Merryn shouted to the man behind the bar, who delivered them quickly.

Millie scanned the pub as she joined Elsie, supping the top of her pint of cider and sighing. The fruity tang of the apples stayed on her tongue while the bubbles fizzed in her mouth.

She didn’t have Strike’s instincts, but she promised to stay safe, which meant being aware of her surroundings.

The punters ranged from wizened bearded men to lads in football kits. There were a couple of older ladies throwing darts. Millie hadn’t played since university, having left the darts society because the guys had made her uncomfortable.

“Why was your husband checking the inside of the pub?” Merryn asked.

Millie worried her lip.

“Elsie, tell Millie what you told me.”

“You know my real name.”

Elsie leaned in and whispered, “Someone’s showing your photo around and asking after you because the police want to talk to you.”

Millie jumped up. “I’ve got to go.”

Joyce walked into the pub and blocked her exit. “Hi, ladies. I’m guessing you told her?”

“Sit down. You’re safe,” Elsie explained.

Merryn rested her hand on Millie’s arm, encouraging her to sit. “It’s okay. Nothing will happen to you here.”

“But the man looking for me?”

“He’s gone. I told him I saw you in Plymouth a few days ago. He’ll search that city forever.”

“Why would you do that?”

“We like you,” Joyce replied.

“But you barely know me.”

“You’re sweet,” Merryn uttered

“And you read romance books,” Elsie added.

“You gave me a cupcake,” Joyce said. “And your husband is hot as hell. What’s not to like?”

Millie gave a half-smile.

“Jonah, who rented you the house, only allows good people there, so we’re on your side, whatever your side is. Why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

“I’m a counsellor, not a criminal,” she blurted. “I witnessed a man get stabbed, and I videoed it, but my phone is broken. Strike’s keeping me safe until the video’s sorted or the victim wakes.”

“You’re safe here. Don’t worry,” Joyce said, squeezing her hand. “How long have you been married?”