Read Online Murder at the Lighthouse: An Exham on Sea Cosy Mystery (Exham on Sea Cosy Crime Mysteries Book 1) by Frances Evesham - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Frances Evesham
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dog’s missing.” Libby went through the house, opening one door after another. “Bear, where are you? Come on out, it’s me.”
Mandy sat on the stairs, transfixed by Mrs Thomson’s body. “Maybe he’s outside?”
Before Libby could search the garden, horns blared, lights flashed and the emergency services arrived in force. Joe Ramshore was first. “Mrs Forest. What are you doing here?”
Mandy said. “We found Mrs Thomson.”
“Did you?” He frowned at Libby, eyes narrowed, suspicious. The ambulance crew whispered in his ear. “Another body,” he said. “And once again, you’re on the spot.” He took Libby’s arm. “Might I ask what you were doing here?”
The wooden chair at the police station, designed for utility rather than comfort, made Libby’s back ache. She stared ahead at uninviting walls, bare of pictures, or notices, painted dull grey. Mandy sat next to her at the plain wooden table, swirling cold, undrinkable tea inside a paper cup. Detective Sergeant Ramshore tilted his chair back, until only two legs touched the floor, waiting blank-faced for an explanation. “We went to the house to look at a photo. Mrs Thomson showed it to me earlier when I walked the dog for her.”
His expression didn’t change. “You were looking after Bear?”
“Max―your father―he’s away.”
Joe’s eyes were cold. He raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “And he asked you to take over the dog walking?”
Libby held his glance. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “So, you came back here in the evening, to visit an old woman? Didn’t you realise you’d frighten her at this time of night? It looks like she tried to get to the door, wearing her ragged old slippers, and tripped on the stairs.”
“What?” Furious, Libby leaned forward. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”
“Have you got a better idea?”
“The dog’s missing. Maybe she was going out to look for him?”
Joe crossed an ankle over the other leg, tapping his cup with a long finger. “We’d know more about that if you hadn’t broken in, making such a mess of the back door, wouldn’t we?”
“We had to get in.” Libby was indignant. “What if she’d still been alive?”
“OK.” He uncrossed his legs. “Fair enough, I suppose. Anyway, I’m afraid the poor old soul’s gone. She must have been almost ninety, and she lived all on her own. Something like this was bound to happen, one day.”
“You think it’s an accident, then?”
The detective laughed. “Mrs Forest, please don’t start imagining someone murdered Mrs Thomson. Old ladies fall all the time. It’s amazing she lasted so long, all alone in this place. No one broke in. The only damage is to the kitchen door, thanks to you.”
“Can we go home, then?”
When Joe smiled, he looked like his father. “I’ll get one of my men to drive you.” Tired, Libby and Mandy trudged along the drab corridor of the police station. “And Mrs Forest.”
She stopped. “Yes?”
“Try not to find any more bodies for a few days.”
Bear’s Adventure
Libby tapped out a brief text for Max before she fell, exhausted, into bed. “Can’t send photo after all. Explain later. Please text addresses of band members.” She was asleep even before the whooshing noise warned the text had gone.
A series of messages greeted her when she woke. “What’s going on? Hope everything OK. Here are addresses.” She smiled. Max was no more able to use text speak, full of gr8 and thx, than she. She copied the addresses onto a scrap of paper and folded it, sliding it into a pocket in her handbag.
“I’m worried about Bear.” She poured cornflakes into a bowl. Mandy, white faced, a faded grey dressing gown pulled up to her chin, looked like a vampire. She cradled a coffee cup in both hands, and grunted. Libby hid a smile. It was good to have a teenager about the place again, failing to communicate. “I’m going back to see what happened.”
“You know it’s not half past six
Mandy sat on the stairs, transfixed by Mrs Thomson’s body. “Maybe he’s outside?”
Before Libby could search the garden, horns blared, lights flashed and the emergency services arrived in force. Joe Ramshore was first. “Mrs Forest. What are you doing here?”
Mandy said. “We found Mrs Thomson.”
“Did you?” He frowned at Libby, eyes narrowed, suspicious. The ambulance crew whispered in his ear. “Another body,” he said. “And once again, you’re on the spot.” He took Libby’s arm. “Might I ask what you were doing here?”
The wooden chair at the police station, designed for utility rather than comfort, made Libby’s back ache. She stared ahead at uninviting walls, bare of pictures, or notices, painted dull grey. Mandy sat next to her at the plain wooden table, swirling cold, undrinkable tea inside a paper cup. Detective Sergeant Ramshore tilted his chair back, until only two legs touched the floor, waiting blank-faced for an explanation. “We went to the house to look at a photo. Mrs Thomson showed it to me earlier when I walked the dog for her.”
His expression didn’t change. “You were looking after Bear?”
“Max―your father―he’s away.”
Joe’s eyes were cold. He raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “And he asked you to take over the dog walking?”
Libby held his glance. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “So, you came back here in the evening, to visit an old woman? Didn’t you realise you’d frighten her at this time of night? It looks like she tried to get to the door, wearing her ragged old slippers, and tripped on the stairs.”
“What?” Furious, Libby leaned forward. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”
“Have you got a better idea?”
“The dog’s missing. Maybe she was going out to look for him?”
Joe crossed an ankle over the other leg, tapping his cup with a long finger. “We’d know more about that if you hadn’t broken in, making such a mess of the back door, wouldn’t we?”
“We had to get in.” Libby was indignant. “What if she’d still been alive?”
“OK.” He uncrossed his legs. “Fair enough, I suppose. Anyway, I’m afraid the poor old soul’s gone. She must have been almost ninety, and she lived all on her own. Something like this was bound to happen, one day.”
“You think it’s an accident, then?”
The detective laughed. “Mrs Forest, please don’t start imagining someone murdered Mrs Thomson. Old ladies fall all the time. It’s amazing she lasted so long, all alone in this place. No one broke in. The only damage is to the kitchen door, thanks to you.”
“Can we go home, then?”
When Joe smiled, he looked like his father. “I’ll get one of my men to drive you.” Tired, Libby and Mandy trudged along the drab corridor of the police station. “And Mrs Forest.”
She stopped. “Yes?”
“Try not to find any more bodies for a few days.”
Bear’s Adventure
Libby tapped out a brief text for Max before she fell, exhausted, into bed. “Can’t send photo after all. Explain later. Please text addresses of band members.” She was asleep even before the whooshing noise warned the text had gone.
A series of messages greeted her when she woke. “What’s going on? Hope everything OK. Here are addresses.” She smiled. Max was no more able to use text speak, full of gr8 and thx, than she. She copied the addresses onto a scrap of paper and folded it, sliding it into a pocket in her handbag.
“I’m worried about Bear.” She poured cornflakes into a bowl. Mandy, white faced, a faded grey dressing gown pulled up to her chin, looked like a vampire. She cradled a coffee cup in both hands, and grunted. Libby hid a smile. It was good to have a teenager about the place again, failing to communicate. “I’m going back to see what happened.”
“You know it’s not half past six
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