Two Birds with One Stone (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 1) (23 page)
Read Two Birds with One Stone (A Marsden-Lacey Cozy Mystery Book 1) Online
Authors: Sigrid Vansandt
“So, what is it?”
Johns asked, walking into the room with Piers.
Everyone around the table looked up immediately, each with
an awed expression like they were beholding a miracle.
Helen, her voice raw with excitement, said, “In a million
years you will never believe what we have on this desk. Never. Never. Never.”
Piers and Johns stood slightly dumbstruck in the doorway
then quickly crossed the room to look at the manuscript laying on a clean,
white, linen cloth.
Perigrine, with a tear in his eye and a voice raspy with
emotion said, “It
’
s Emily Bronte
’
s
missing novel. Priceless. Simply priceless.”
“I
’
ve got goosebumps,”
Helen said.
Piers walked over and bent down. On a page stained from age,
along a margin in a woman
’
s delicate hand, was written a
small poem. It was vaguely familiar to him. Here though, only a stanza of the
entirety was written:
Come walk with me, come walk with me;
We were not once so few
But Death has stolen our company
As sunshine steals the dew
—
He took them one by one and we
Are left the only two.
The room was reverently quiet. Then Johns said, “Better call
someone from Harvard. It’s theirs.”
Everyone looked up at him like he had stripped down to his
shorts and was dancing the hoochie coochie.
“Why? What do you mean?”
The room exploded with everyone talking at once, accusing Johns of
various forms of unpatriotic, un-English, unfeeling coarseness.
“It
’
s not ours! Devry stole it from
Harvard!”
Johns
yelled, trying to get over the noise of all the people talking.
Everyone stopped mid-accusation.
“We have no choice,”
Johns said. “That
’
s final. Lock it up, Cross,
before it goes missing again.”
He walked out of the room feeling relieved, completely
above-board, and suddenly hungry. No time like the present for lunch he
decided, so he found his way to the reception area and announced, “I
’
m going for lunch at The Traveller
’
s,
Constable Waters. Be back in an hour.”
Donna made a mental note and went back to listening to
Alistair tell her about the time they were saved from being arrested by the
Polish Police by a band of gypsies.
Things were back to normal in Marsden-Lacey. At least for a
while.
Marsden-Lacey, England
One Week Later
“SO, I
’
LL CONTINUE THE INVENTORY at
Healy while you
’
re gone. Think you
’
ll
have time to get a tan while you
’
re in
Florida?
”
Martha
asked while helping Helen pack her suitcase for her trip.
Having retrieved a large majority of her things from her
flat in Leeds, Helen was staying with Martha and sharing expenses while they
worked on their extensive jobs in Marsden-Lacey. She was ready to give away her
ex-husband and attend his wedding in Orlando. Leaving that afternoon, Helen was
trying to find enough hot weather clothing to avoid dying from the Florida
heat.
“So, did you invite Piers to go or did he invite himself?”
Martha pumped Helen
for information.
“I absolutely did not invite him. He brought it up because
he has friends in Key West. I told him if he would like to have dinner one
night while we are both there, we could meet. I
’
m still a
bit stung by how people might perceive my intentions about him.”
“
Oh for Pete
’
s
sake, Helen. Thyme was a nut job. She doesn
’
t count. I
think you should have some fun and show him off to your ex and his floozy.”
“Why don
’
t you worry about your own
love life?”
Helen
threw a pair of frilly knickers back at Martha who had tried to stuff them into
Helen
’
s case.
T
he doorbell rang
as Martha threw them
back at Helen but they landed on Amos’
head instead.
“You might want those. You
’
ll wish you
had kept them,”
Martha
said before running down to answer the front door.
She found Chief Inspector Johns blocking the sun on her
doorstep.
“Why hello, Chief Inspector. What can I do for you?”
“I wondered if you would like to go to dinner tonight, Mrs.
Littleword?”
he
asked.
She blinked up at him. The sun had turned him into a dark
silhouette filling her door.
“Please come in,”
she said, a bit rattled. This was the last thing she had expected. “I
can
’
t this evening. I have a date tonight, but maybe
another night?”
She
gave him a big smile.
Johns stayed his usual rigid self. “Oh, I see. Wouldn
’
t be with anyone I
’
d know?”
“Well, maybe. Do you remember the doctor you had come to the
station after everything happened at Healy? You had him check us over. Gave
Helen a mammoth bandage for her arm?”
“Whithersby.”
He said it almost as a growl and his face grew dark.
“Yes. That
’
s him. Well,
he
’
s been such a nice man, coming here almost every
day to check on me. He
’
s concerned I might have pulled
something in my back while trying to flee from Mrs. Thyme,”
Martha said,
getting wrapped up in her own vision of herself as a gothic heroine.
“Fine,”
Johns said tersely. “I hope you have a wonderful time, Mrs. Littleword.
I wouldn’t be too sure of the Doc, though. He sometimes tips the bottle a wee
bit more than he should.”
Martha’s eyebrows knitted as if concerned by what he said.
Johns nodded. “And he can be something of a rake.”
“A rake, you say?”
She grinned when Johns glowered.
“It’s a concern. For a respectable lady, like yourself.”
Martha found it difficult not to laugh. “I appreciate your
warning, Constable. I’ll do my best not to let Dr. Whithersby threaten my
reputation.”
Johns grunted, stood straighter. “Good. I’ll look forward to
another time then...perhaps.”
He gave her a strained smile and turned down the pathway
leading to her gate.
Martha stood in the doorstep, one hand on her rounded hip
while a new addition to the family menagerie, a tabby, Maine coon cat, threaded
lovingly between her ankles. With a knowing smile on her lips, Martha
considered Johns
’
back side.
“
Not bad. Not bad at all,
”
she thought, then
quietly shut the door and ran back upstairs to help Helen pack for her
Floridian fun.
Sigrid Vansandt lives with her husband, daughter and small
maltipoo, Amos, in the Ozarks of Arkansas.
She always wanted to write and with the encouragement of her
family finally gave it a try. An avid reader of all things British and the
American South, she enjoyed combining the two cultures into her first cozy
mystery series.
Thank you for reading!
Email Sigrid at:
[email protected]
Sign up to her email list at:
http://eepurl.com/baKFLj
Or follow her on twitter:
@SigridVansandt
Two Birds with One Stone
copyright
© 2014 Sigrid Vansandt, all rights reserved.
Cover image copyright © iStock.com/smartboy10 and
kakigoristudio
Interior graphics
copyright ©
depositphoto.com/Natuska
This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, organizations, places and events are invented by the author or are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, organizations, places and
events, living or dead, is coincidental.
This e-book may not be
reproduced, scanned, stored or distributed in any form without prior written
permission of the author. It is intended for the purchaser’s use only.
