by Blythe Baker
Sam waited for the other police car to arrive, not wanting to put Mr. Cooke and me in the same vehicle in case the farmer decided to snap once again.
Mrs. Cooke came out soon after the rest of the police pulled up, and when she realized what had happened, the scene that followed was horribly heartbreaking. It seemed she was completely unaware of her husband’s actions, having lived in blissful ignorance of the beggar’s appearance in the first place. As Mr. Cooke confessed everything to her, her confusion and distress were obvious.
Sam took me home after Mr. Cooke had been taken up by the pair of constables. I found myself feeling hollow as we left.
“How do you do this, day after day?” I asked Sam as we made our way back toward town.
He didn’t look at me, but there was a definite hardness in his jaw.
“Eventually, you just become numb,” he said, simply.
It was what he did not say that haunted me as he dropped me off back at my own cottage.
I swallowed hard as I watched him drive away, knowing that I was safe, even if I didn’t exactly feel like it.
I knew I would go next door later and explain what had happened to Sidney Mason. He had been almost as interested in the fate of the beggar as I was, although he would not be pleased to learn how I had placed myself in danger.
I would also have to talk to Irene and Nathanial. I needed to return their car to them, and keep my promise to myself that I’d be honest with them. They were going to be angry…but maybe they would still let me stay with them for a few days, especially given what I’d just gone through.
I unlocked the door to my house, and stood in the doorway, gaping as I stared around.
The same thing that had happened to the upper floor had now occurred downstairs.
The robber had been back.
Drawers opened and overturned. Boxes open and emptied. The till was open, yet not a single note had been taken from within.
I sagged to my knees in the middle of the floor, staring around as if there might be a ghost haunting me.
Why did this keep happening? And what was this person searching for?
I had thought this had something to do with the murder investigation, that it had been the farmer trying to possibly scare me away from asking questions…but looking around, I wondered if this was something else entirely.
“What in the world do you want with me?” I asked aloud, staring around. “Why do you keep tearing my home apart? What are you looking for?”
It wasn’t money. It wasn’t my valuables. So what could it be?
I didn’t stay. I couldn’t. Fear pushed me away, and I wasn’t going to try and brave it.
Locking the door, I raced down the road toward the police station. Sam Graves had to know this had happened again…and just days after the first time.
The fear of the violation of my privacy was real, tangible.
But what scared me more was that this person always seemed to be one step ahead of me. I wondered if I would ever discover what this mysterious…and probably dangerous person…was searching for.
Continue following the mysterious adventures of Helen Lightholder in
“A Simple Country Mystery.”
About the Author
Blythe Baker is a thirty-something bottle redhead from the South Central part of the country. When she’s not slinging words and creating new worlds and characters, she’s acting as chauffeur to her children and head groomer to her household of beloved pets.
Blythe enjoys long walks with her dog on sweaty days, grubbing in her flower garden, cooking, and ruthlessly de-cluttering her overcrowded home. She also likes binge-watching mystery shows on TV and burying herself in books about murder.
To learn more about Blythe, visit her website and sign up for her newsletter at www.blythebaker.com