Part 23 (1/2)

”The man was a pain,” Evan agreed.

Watkins went to perch on the corner of Evan's desk. ”I'd still like to know who wrote those notes. If there are extremists at work, I'd like to know it.”

”So would I, but I wonder if we ever will.”

Watkins slid off the desk again. ”All right. Well, I'd better be getting along. I've got a burglary down in Beddgelert to look into. Same old routine stuff after all the excitement. That's the problem with this job. When it's all routine, you wish for excitement and when it's all go, you long for regular hours. Ah well, there are worse ways of learning a living.”

”I'm thinking of asking for a transfer myself,” Evan said. ”I'm finally going to send in my application for detective training.”

Watkins didn't smile, as Evan had expected. Instead he looked uncomfortable.

”What?” Evan demanded. ”You don't think I'd be good enough for the job.”

”I know you would, boyo,” Watkins said. ”You'd be b.l.o.o.d.y good. It's just that it won't be for a while, that's all. We're in hot water with the commissioner, so it seems, because North Wales Police has the lowest percentage of female detectives. So the next recruits have to be female-starting with our Glynis Davies. She's been accepted for the next training cla.s.s. She'll make a good detective, don't you think? Very ingenious. Very thorough.”

”Oh yes, great,” Evan said halfheartedly.

”It was matching those prints that got her transfer through in a hurry,” Watkins said. ”That and the fact that her boyfriend happens to be the commissioner's nephew.” He grinned at Evan, then slapped him on the back. ”Be seeing you then, boyo. Take care of yourself.”

As soon as Sergeant Watkins had gone, Evan took out the application and tore it up. He tried not to feel angry or disappointed, but he couldn't help it. It looked as if he was destined to be stuck in Llanfair, at least for the immediate future.

He glanced at his watch. Almost five o'clock. He'd put in enough overtime to leave early for once. He closed up for the day and came out into the soft glow of late afternoon. Without any clear idea of where he was heading, he started up the street. It wasn't Glynis's fault that she'd been chosen over him. And she was bright, too. She'd do well as a detective.

He strode past the school without looking to see if Bronwen was there. He needed to walk, to feel the wind in his face. He realized that he not only felt disappointed, he felt stupid. So Glynis was only being friendly to him after all. He'd read far too much into her overtures. Lucky he hadn't encouraged her-his career certainly wouldn't have been helped if the commissioner's nephew had found that Evan had been flirting with his girl.

Stupid! Evan said out loud to the empty street. Stupid to allow himself to be flattered by a good-looking girl. He was too gullible where women were concerned. Well, from now on it would be different.

He pa.s.sed the chapels, with their respective vehicles parked beside them, and continued up past the Everest Inn until he stood at the top of the pa.s.s. Here the wind was blowing strongly with the tang of salt in it, and dark clouds raced across the sky. Out at sea the horizon was a hard line. It would rain before long. The Indian summer was finally over.

It's not a bad place to be, he told himself. His gaze scanned the green hillsides. The burned-out cottage stood like a dark wound amid the green. Watkins was right. Those English people would never be back . . . which started him thinking. What would happen to a ruin like that? Would it be too hard to rebuild? It already had water and electricity and a good solid foundation, and the walls were still standing . . . The wheels in his head started to turn and his gaze wandered involuntarily down to the school house.

At that moment the rain began, falling as isolated drops that spattered on the asphalt to begin with; then came more and more of them until the heavens opened. The rich creosote smell of wet macadam rose up to his nostrils. He turned to walk back.

As he pa.s.sed the schoolhouse the front door opened and Bronwen ran out, holding a large umbrella over her. ”Evan, you're soaked to the skin. What were you doing up on the pa.s.s? Is something the matter?”

”No,” he said, looking down at her anxious face. ”Everything's just fine. I went for a little walk.”

”Come inside. I'll make you a cup of tea,” she said, ”and if you're very good, you can try a slice of the baguette I've just made.”

She led him across the playground and in through the open door. The kitchen smelled of freshly baked bread. Bronwen pointed proudly at the table. ”I learned a lot while Janine was with me. I think I've turned into a pretty good cook.” She poured a cup of tea from the brown earthenware pot. ”What were you doing up on the pa.s.s?”

”Just thinking,” Evan said. ”Trying to clear my head.”

She nodded. ”We're lucky where we live. You can't get too upset by little problems when you're surrounded by mountains. They keep everything in perspective.”

Evan took the cup and drank. ”Bronwen,” he said after a sip. ”Do you think this is such a bad job for a man? Stuck up here, I mean. Not applying for promotion?”

Her eyes flashed. ”A bad job? You're needed up here, aren't you? If you hadn't been here, Bryn would likely be in jail by now and his whole future would have been wrecked.”

Evan looked surprised. ”You know about Bryn?”

”Terry told me. Bryn told him.” She saw the alarm on his face. ”Oh, don't worry. They won't tell anyone else. Those two are as thick as thieves-sorry, bad metaphor.” She smiled then put her hands on his shoulders. ”You've done some good things while you've been here,” she said. ”You've touched lives.”