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pounding ceased. Downstairs, he heard voices. They had found the girl, he thought. He was being called to a murder scene. He ran down the stairs. Bronwen was standing at the half-open front door. She was wearing one of Evan’s T-shirts, which came to mid-thigh on her, and nothing else. She looked up at the sound of Evan’s feet on the stairs.
    â€œI didn’t want to wake you until seven-fifteen but we’ve got a visitor,” she said, her voice unnaturally cheerful.
    â€œI wasn’t expecting to find you here, Miss Price,” a voice said, and to Evan’s horror, his mother stepped past Bronwen and into the front hall. “Hello, son,” she said.
    â€œMother, what are you doing here?” Evan stammered. “We weren’t expecting you until the weekend.”
    Mrs. Evans’s face was a stone mask. “My next-door neighbor, Mrs. Gwynne, said her son was driving a furniture lorry up to Bangor. I thought to myself, why not surprise my son and save the money for the train fare too?”
    â€œYou certainly surprised me all right,” Evan said.
    The stony expression didn’t waver. “I thought to myself that my boy might need some extra help in the busy time before the wedding and he might need someone to make sure he was eating properly. But I see you’ve already got extra help.” Her gaze traveled over Bronwen. “But don’t tell me you’ve already had the wedding?”
    Bronwen flushed and went to say something. Evan put a hand around her shoulder. “No, Mother. The wedding is still two weeks away, as you very well know. And I’ve been out all night on a particularly nasty case, so Bronwen was making me some breakfast.”
    Mrs. Evans’s face struggled, as if she wanted to believe this, but
couldn’t. “Well then,” she said. “I could do with a cup of tea, after sitting in that bumpy old lorry all night. Evan can bring my case in for me.”
    â€œI’m afraid I was making coffee,” Bronwen said. “Evan hardly got any sleep so I was helping him to stay awake. But I can put the kettle on for some tea.”
    â€œAnd maybe you’d like to pop upstairs and put your dressing gown on at the same time, Miss Price,” Mrs. Evans said. “You’ll catch your death of cold running around in your undies like that.”
    â€œAll right.” Bronwen kept her face composed until she was out of sight, then bounded up the stairs.
    â€œMother, now you’ve upset Bronwen,” Evan hissed.
    She stared at him with the same stony gaze. “I should hope it was her own conscience that upset her. What on earth do the neighbors say when the policeman brings women in for the night?”
    â€œWomen? Mother, she’s my fiancée. And I’d like you to try and be nicer to her.” He left his mother standing in the hallway and ran up the stairs. He found Bronwen standing at the window, staring out.
    â€œI’m sorry, love,” he said.
    â€œI know she’s your mother,” Bronwen said in a low voice, “but she’s a miserable old harpy.”
    Evan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re right. She is.”
    â€œShe’s never going to accept me as a daughter-in-law.” Bronwen’s voice cracked. “She still calls me Miss Price, for God’s sake. And the way she looked at me. You’d have thought I’d been entertaining an entire army regiment!”
    Evan laughed and squeezed her to him. “I don’t know what she can have against you, but I’m sure she’ll improve.”
    â€œOf course we know what she’s got against me. I’m taking her precious son away from her control.”
    Evan reached behind the door and took down a velour robe. “Here, put my dressing gown on, and as soon as we’ve given her a cup of tea, we’re going to march her over to Mrs. Williams and get her settled in