MYSTERY: BRITISH MYSTERY: Missing Hearts (Amateur Sleuth Suspense Thriller) (Cozy Crime Detective Short Stories) (4 page)

BOOK: MYSTERY: BRITISH MYSTERY: Missing Hearts (Amateur Sleuth Suspense Thriller) (Cozy Crime Detective Short Stories)
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Benjamin moved to the window and gently cracked it ajar.

“What the hell George?” Benjamin asked with some frustration.

“Just keeping an eye on you both. How’s the food?” George replied.

“Listen George. I think there’s someone in the wine cellar. I heard a groan. We can’t get out of this room without being watched. Got to go.” Benjamin whispered, just as Van Lomas re-entered the room.

Benjamin snapped his head round to see the tall man approaching the table.

“Was just trying for some fresh air. That fire makes it quite stuffy after a big dinner don’t you think?” Benjamin asked smiling as he pushed the window closed.

“Why yes, I suppose it does Ben. Are you suitably cooled? We shall have more wine I believe. Portuguese. One of my favourites. The French wines are so overrated don’t you agree?” Van Lomas remarked.

Looking back at the window, Benjamin relaxed seeing no sign of George. Hopefully he had made some sense of the brief message.

The three of them talked some more and eventually Van Lomas stood up and addressed them both. “It was so good of you to accept my invite this evening. You two are exactly what we needed tonight.” He said raising his glass towards the pair of them.

As he did, the main door of the room opened and the butler appeared. He stepped aside as a group of what looked like monks began entering the room. They worked their way around the table surrounding Benjamin and Janey.

“We would like to invite you to join us in a short stroll,” Van Lomas said.

“A stroll?” Janey asked. “A stroll where?”

“A stroll down to the circle of course. It is all prepared and ready for your arrival. Please don’t attempt to refuse me. My friends have been looking forward to this for some time. Some years in fact. I’m sure you understand they won’t take no for an answer.” Van Lomas said.

As two of the hooded monks grabbed Janey’s arms, Benjamin took a swing. He was soon overpowered by the others and the pair of them were frog-marched out of the house.

“Ben! Ben! Help me!” Janey screamed as she kicked and twisted against the grip of her escort.

“Stop!” Van Lomas said. “Pay attention to what I say. As I mentioned before. They have been waiting a long time for this and won’t take no for an answer. If you keep resisting, I shall instruct them to silence you. Please save yourself that indignity and come quietly.”

In silence they were marched down the winding path over the moors to the circle.
Before they were in the circle the butler came running down the path after them.

“SIR! SIR!” The butler shouted.

Van Lomas held up his hand to stop the procession.

“What is it Grayson!” He snapped.

“The others Sir! The others in the cellar,” he almost whined.

“Yes they are on their way. I wanted these two to see the wonderful job we had made of the circle before I brought the others down.” Van Lomas said.

“No, Sir! They are gone. All of them gone. We went to get them out and they are gone!” The butler replied.

“Don’t be so pathetic. They had enough drugs in them to knock out a horse. You said so yourself. How can they be gone?” Van Lomas snarled. He turned back to Janey and Benjamin. “Take these two down to the circle and hold them there, the rest of you, find them! Now! Wherever they are they can’t be far.”

Four of the hooded group dragged Janey and Benjamin down to the circle as the rest hurried off towards the house and surrounding moors.

Van Lomas was right. They had been busy. As Benjamin and Janey were walked into the circle they could feel the blood oozing under their feet. Beneath the bright full moon they could see the centre of the stone circle was awash with the carcasses and blood of dozens of small animals. The smell of the blood and bodies reached their noses and after the dinner and wine it was hard for them both not to retch.

The group that had gone in search of the lost ones returned. They returned empty handed. Shortly after two more of the group arrived dragging a bloodied and beaten George.

“We found this in the house,” said one as he threw George to the feet of Van Lomas.

“Where are the others?” Van Lomas snarled at George as he kicked him in the side of the head.

“Gone I reckon. Gone home. Gone walking. Maybe sat in your dining room finishing off your fancy fine meal. Oh no, that was me of course. So they must be gone.” George snickered through a broken and bleeding mouth.

“It is midnight, Sir. We are out of time.” The butler said.

“This maggot will go first. Whatever happens these three will be sacrificed tonight. On that alter.”

From out of the hooded group that had formed around the circle, one of them stepped forward and stood before Van Lomas.

“No Van Lomas. That is not the bargain you made.” Said the hooded voice lowering the hood of her cloak. It was Monique. Janey gasped.

“I know what deal I made and these will die tonight.” Van Lomas snapped.

"No Van Lomas, you will!” Said Monique. Turning to address the circle she spoke out so all could here.

“You people were fooled by this man’s lies. The pact he made with Lucifer was for his own immortal soul not yours. Tonight he agrees to sacrifice thirteen. Thirteen souls to release Lucifer on earth and thirteen hearts to give Van Lomas eternal life. Just him. Not you. You would be playthings for the evil one. Driven mad and desperate for your own deaths.
Van Lomas has failed with delivering the thirteen hearts and now he has to pay. If he doesn’t pay, all of you will. He must pay with his own heart. That is the pact he made with Lucifer. You or him.”

Van Lomas stood silent. His face filled with rage and in his hand lay the long ceremonial dagger he was to perform the ritual slaughter with. Monique lowered her hand and lifted the blade. She could feel his hand weaken as she removed it from his grasp and turned it towards him.

“I do not kill you Daniel Van Lomas, you do. Step forward on to this blade and redeem an ounce of sanity for yourself.”

Van Lomas gazed around the circle hoping for an escape. Hoping that somehow thirteen victims would arrive and save him. But he knew the truth and knew the pact. He groaned as he stepped forward onto the gleaming blade and as he felt it penetrate his heart he slowly slid to the blood drenched circle floor.

As Monique stepped back from the now lifeless body towards her daughter and Benjamin, the dark figures around the circle melted away into the darkness. The butler, knowing nothing else but to serve his master Van Lomas and aided by two of the hooded group, lifted the lifeless Van Lomas from the ground and carried him off into the darkness of the moors.

The four of them were left alone in the circle.

“Mother?” Janey whimpered. “What the hell is going on? Who the hell are you?”

Monique laughed lightly and lifted Janey from off the ground to stand in front of her.

“Your aunt killed the father of Daniel Van Lomas and tonight I killed his son. Daniel Van Lomas too has a son. You must prepare to meet him. You will kill him. Our families shall continue this battle until no heir is left to carry on the ritual they wish to create. You will need this.”

“What battle? I have no intentions of killing anyone. We must call the police.” Janey gasped, interrupting her mother as the woman tried to hand her a velvet covered object.

“Many generations ago, as Christianity was making its first fumbling steps into Britain, an ancestor of Van Lomas was one of those first priests to have arrived here. Yes of course he knew the Bible backwards and forwards but he also knew many other ancient truths that would never be taught to the common people here. He knew the magical texts kept hidden by the Catholic Church. Lucifer himself. Eternal life would be granted to himself or his heirs if the proper ritual was carried out at the proper time and place. That of course is here and now.” Monique drew her daughter close, walking around the stones with her.

“Your ancestor on the other hand was a simple boy that had been taken under the wing of the church to learn and to spread the word in this area. He had studied hard and, more importantly, had observed Van Lomas and followed him to see first-hand the rituals Van Lomas secretly indulged in. He continued to study hard but also made it his life’s work to study all that Van Lomas might know in an attempt to thwart his plan.” Monique paused to ensure Janey was keeping up with her dialogue and to allow her a moment to take it all in. She then continued.

“Your, our, ancestor killed the first Van Lomas on a night such as this and in this location. Creating a book of all he knew, he passed it on to his daughter with the instruction that no Van Lomas must ever succeed in their diabolical ritual. Tonight was my turn. I have studied hard and long for this evening and have been in the utmost terror that I must fulfil this destiny. But now it is done. Now that burden is unfortunately yours.”

Monique passed Janey the thick, leather bound velvet covered book she was always so eagerly seen to be reading. On the cover Janey noted the same inscription as they had seen on the rings the visitors wore.

“Read it and study it child. Prepare, and ensure the future belongs to us, not them.”

“But we need to call the police Mother. We need to get those people back to safety wherever they are.” Janey said as she clutched the heavy book to her chest.

“The police will arrive and find nothing. The cult will be long gone along with the body of Van Lomas.” Monique replied.

“But what about all those people that were kidnapped?” Janey asked.

“I met George some way down the track before he came to the house.” Monique answered. “We agreed he would bring them down to Ben’s van and load them quietly aboard. They were in no fit state to climb down the moors and they would be safe until the deed was done. George and Benjamin can now drive them back to the village and tell all to the police. All, except a mention of us. We were never here. Our anonymity in this matter will be what helps us prevail on the next attempt. There will be a next attempt Janey, have no doubt. Now, let us get off this accursed moor and down to the pub. I believe we may have saved the world and earned a drink or two.”

Janey looked at her mother and Benjamin in bewilderment. So much had happened so quickly that she couldn’t take it all in. But Van Lomas was gone, the evil was gone, and they were all safe once more. For a little while, at least. Taking Ben’s arm on one side and drawing her mother close to the other, Janey walked away from the terror of this night with the two people she loved most in the world safe beside her. A new life had begun for them all, she just hoped she was up to the challenge.

The End

BONUS

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Crafty Murder
Sweet Cozy Mystery
About the Book

A
fter her parents
died in her teens, Emmeline was adrift, but determined to make something of herself. That was what her parents would have wanted, right? She aced college and went to business school, then moved to her brother’s new town, hoping to settle down. But plans have a way of not working out, and after a few years, Emmeline quit her stable, sensible job to open a tea shop.

Successful and happy for the first time in years, Emmeline thought she had just about everything a girl could want. Who cared if she was pining after her downstairs neighbor, Nick? Who cared if the shop was just barely turning a profit? She got to do a job she loved all day every day. And with the town craft fair coming up, she set her sights on winning the big craft competition.

Only… Emmeline’s life is about to turn upside down. Because a murderer is lurking in her tiny town, and when they strike at the craft competition, they make sure that the blame falls squarely on Emmeline.

1

E
mmeline threaded
her way through the dense knot of people, glowing with pride as she heard snatches of conversation—and plenty of compliments for her work. She probably wasn’t going to win first prize in the craft competition, but her honey-spice cupcakes were a definite hit, and she had almost sold out of the premeasured mix she made on a hunch.

Today was special for more than just the competition. A year ago to the day, she had screwed up all her courage and quit her job at the local bank, using her savings to buy a vacant storefront on Main Street. Emmeline’s Tea and Cakes had opened less than a month later, filled with comfy armchairs and thrift store tables, and with a freshly painted pink-and-gold sign she’d labored over on her living room floor. The shop had been a hit at once, and Emmeline now spent her days up to her elbows in flour and spices, turning out batches of her famous cakes.

The town craft fair seemed the ideal place to get a little more exposure. It was pricey to set up a booth, but Emmeline had bribed a few family members with a lifetime supply of cakes if they would sell mix for her, while she herself circulated through the fair with samples of her cupcakes.

Today, on the third and final day of the fair, she was hoping against hope that all the people who loved her cake had turned out to vote for her. She had stiff competition. Audrey, the mayor’s wife had been making exquisite quilts for as long as anyone could remember, and they had won at the craft competition for the last two years. The quilt this year, a depiction of the four seasons with falling leaves, flowers, and snow swirling to the center, took Emmeline’s breath away.

The only possible competition she might have was from James Pike, a town newcomer. Emmeline had seen him a few times at her tea shop, and had never taken much notice of him. With his sandy brown hair, roundish face, and retiring manner, he escaped attention most of the time—until three days ago, that was, when everyone found out he made gorgeous statues. The one he’d entered, a brass weeping willow, looked like something she might see in a high-end art gallery.

“This cake is
delicious
,” someone said nearby, and Emmeline flushed with pleasure, turning to look as an out-of-towner polished off the last bite of a cupcake. She was so preoccupied with watching the woman fill out her ballot that she ran headlong into Audrey.

“Mrs. Galloway! I’m so sorry.” She bent to help the woman pick up a sheaf of papers and a plastic bottle caught her eye. “Is this yours?”

“Yes,” Audrey said coolly, reaching out to pluck them from Emmeline’s hand. “Those are my husband’s eye drops.”

Emmeline stood awkwardly. She had never warmed to Audrey, despite many people’s assurances that the woman was a great force for change in the community. Notably younger than her husband, Audrey seemed to have fended off the accusations of
trophy wife
by spending her time makeup free and involved in charity work. Audrey, people told Emmeline, had successfully lobbied for state funding for the local libraries, donated her time to a number of charities, and was always signing up to bring casseroles to new parents and sick people.

Secretly, though, Emmeline wondered just how much of the adoration was for Audrey’s good works, and how much was for her stunning looks. The woman looked like a model, with perfect skin, waves of auburn hair, and eyes of a gorgeous bright green. Tall and slim, she drew eyes wherever she went, standing silently at her husband’s side through charity dinners, ribbon cuttings, and school soccer games. No one seemed to notice that she rarely smiled.

All at once, Emmeline felt ashamed of herself. If Audrey was doing so much good for the citizens of the town, how could she secretly sneer at the woman? She knew herself well enough to know that she was jealous: jealous of the woman’s striking looks, of her simple, elegant clothing, and of the way she seemed to have time for charities, casseroles, and all of those stunning quilts. Emmeline was pretty enough in her own way, with dark brown hair and a full mouth, but she rarely got her socks to match and she’d never made a casserole in her life. Lunch was toast as often as not, and her apartment never seemed all the way clean.

Yes. She was just jealous. She smiled at Audrey, determined to make nice.

“I’m really sorry I ran into you. If you stop in at the shop, I can make it up to you with a free cupcake.”

Much to her surprise, Audrey smiled, and it transformed her face entirely. Had Emmeline thought the woman looked like a model? She’d been wrong. Audrey looked like a
queen
. It was like being noticed by the most popular girl in school.

“That would be nice,” she said, and she really seemed to mean it. “Marvin brought home some of your scones the other day. They were delicious.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed them.” Was she actually
blushing
? She needed to get a hold of herself. “It’s really nothing compared to your quilts.”

“Thank you.” Audrey’s face went cold again. “But I think the people this year will prefer that sculpture.”

“Mmf.” Emmeline couldn’t bring herself to admit that she’d voted for the sculpture as well. It had been on a whim—she’d never thought that it would win against the vibrant quilt at the head of the room, but she wanted James to know someone had seen it and liked it. From the whispers she heard all around her, a lot of people had done the same…and the man had a real chance of beating Audrey. “I didn’t realize he was a sculptor. I thought he did…”

She had no idea what James might do. She’d always pictured him as an accountant, perhaps, or an office worker at some big corporation.

“He’s a financial advisor,” Audrey said, muted anger in her tone. “You know, when I saw him on Tuesday, he said he loved my quilts and he was sure they would win this year. And then he comes here with some sculpture that’s probably not even his—” She broke off.

“I’m so sorry. You know, I really don’t feel well. I think I’m going to head home.” She managed a ghost of a smile.

“But you’ll miss the awards ceremony,” Emmeline protested. The ballots would be taken and counted in only a few minutes; it seemed preposterous to leave now.

“I don’t think I’ll win anything this year,” Audrey said bitterly. “Do you?”

And she was gone, pushing her way out of the crowd while Emmeline stared after her in confusion. That had been odd, indeed. Whatever she’d expected from Audrey Galloway, that wasn’t it.

“Aunt Emmeline!” Someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hello, David.” Emmeline was still getting used to looking up at her nephew. After business school, she’d moved here on a whim, hoping to get closer to her older brother and his wife. His son was already eight years old at the time, and now, at 12, the boy was already six feet tall.

“They just took the ballot boxes away.” David was grinning. “And
tons
of people are talking about your cake! I even saw the guy with the sculptures saying he voted for it! He took three pieces of the sample cake.”

“Did he? That’s nice.” A socially graceful maneuver at any rate, but Emmeline didn’t want to share such a jaded sentiment with her nephew.

“I think you’re going to win,” David said earnestly. “I really think so. Remember saying you’d crush all the competition? I think you will!”

“You’re sweet.” Emmeline looped her arm through his and stood on tiptoe to peer through the crowd. “Let’s go get closer so we—so I—can see.”

They waited anxiously as the count commenced, Emmeline’s brother Harry and his wife Jenna arriving at a run after having closed up the tent.

“You ready to win?” Harry asked encouragingly, and Emmeline smiled up at him.

“I have the best family.”

“You do. I’m glad you recognize that.” Her brother grinned back cheekily.

They waited for minutes that felt like hours. Emmeline had entered the competition for the exposure, but the positive response had started a new dream in her head: of winning, and being able to show off the little trophy on the counter at Emmeline’s Tea and Cakes. The atmosphere of the crowd was intoxicating, and she found herself bouncing nervously back and forth.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The call came out over the crowd. The chief organizer of the craft fair stepped on stage, smiling at everyone. “We have very exciting news this evening. We have…a tie!”

Oohs and aahs greeted this pronouncement.

“Yes, indeed! In third place, we have Audrey Galloway with her Four Seasons Quilt.” A smattering of applause gave way to murmurs when Audrey did not appear. “And tied for first place in the craft competition are James Pike with his beautiful Wind in the Willows sculpture, and Emmeline Hayes with her honey-spice cake!”

The roar of the crowd was deafening, and Emmeline’s family crowded in on her, cheering.

“Now, now.” The chief organizer held up his hand. “The committee couldn’t decide on one or the other, so we brought in Mayor Galloway to make the final choice! Sir, please come to the stage!”

Everyone cheered as the mayor climbed the steps, giving a charming smile to everyone assembled. With salt and pepper hair, he was still a handsome man, trim in his well-tailored suit. He took the time to shake the hands of every committee member, and then took the mic as everyone held their breath.

“This is a tough decision,” he said, smiling.

Emmeline grabbed her brother’s hand and nearly crushed it.

“Now, I did like that honey cake…but I’m going to have to say that the Wind in the Willows statue is my first choice.”

A cheer went up, and disappointment hit Emmeline in a wave. She managed to clap, smiling bravely as people looked over at her, and climbed the stage to accept her second-place trophy.

“I think you should have won,” James told her earnestly.

“No, no. You deserved it.” But she knew everyone could see the disappointment on her face, even though she was smiling. As soon as she could, she fled to the bathroom and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, breathing deeply until she got a hold of herself.

“It isn’t
fair
,” David said when she returned, bearing her little star trophy.

“It’s all right,” Emmeline told him. “Just think how many people will come to see the shop now.” She felt her chin tremble, and looked away. “You know, it’s been a really long weekend. I think I’m going to head home.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her sister in law enfolded her in a hug. “You know that—”

But whatever words of wisdom Jenna might have had, they were lost in the sudden screaming from behind the podium. The crowd surged forward to look, carrying everyone with it, and more screams rang out as they saw what had upset the cleaning woman: James Pike’s body, blood running from his head, and the blood spattered trophy lying nearby.

“Oh, my God.” Emmeline put her hand over her mouth. Everyone was looking around as if they might spot the killer lurking in the crowd, and all she could think of was the one person no one would see.

Audrey Galloway.

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