by Issy Brooke
He saw an opportunity to kill Clive, and he thought that it would look like a perfect accident.
But as the crime scene investigators had discovered, with their 3D modelling and fancy computer projections, Clive hadn’t fallen accidentally; he had been pushed, and pushed very hard and very, very deliberately.
Jared had switched from cycling to running immediately after the murder because of being seen on cctv. He’d claimed to be out jogging so it was a fiction he had to maintain. Unfortunately, he had done too much and too soon, bringing a bought of tendonitis on. Penny had spotted it, but the significance hadn’t sunk in.
It still saddened Penny to think that Jared had once been her friend.
“Are you all right?” Drew asked, murmuring into her hair, and bringing her back to the present.
“Yes, sorry, I was just thinking about things. About what a strange year it’s been, for so many people.”
“Try not to dwell on it all.”
“I can’t help it. Right now, where is Jared? He’s in a cell somewhere, on remand and awaiting trial. He won’t be leaving prison for a very long time. Don’t you think that’s kind of sad? He should be out here, enjoying the celebrations, but he let his stupid obsessions get the better of him. And then it snowballed, didn’t it?”
“You’re safe now. He’s obviously unhinged. He’s better off in jail than out here.”
“I know. But then there’s poor Clive. For all his horrible ways, he shouldn’t have been killed.”
“I think Linda has taken up his interfering and curmudgeonly mantle though,” Drew pointed out.
They could still hear her shrill complaints.
“Why did she bother to come out if she hates the New Year so much?” Penny said.
“So that we all know how much she hates it, of course.”
“Like she hated my flyers in the end.”
“Did you ever think she would like them?”
“No,” Penny said sadly. “I was silly to think I could meet her standards. I wonder if she will ever get that footpath opened. And if she does, what she will do next. I can’t imagine her ever being happy with achieving anything.”
She looked around. Haydn wasn’t present, either. His house refurbishment had been finished and he had disappeared from the town, and no one particularly missed him. He had clung on to his job, she had heard, and that was a relief even though she had no particular feelings for him. No one wanted to end up jobless at Christmas, after all.
But there was Ariadne, and Wolf, and Destiny close by. She had enjoyed a wonderful Christmas Day dinner with them, and over a few too many glasses of Advocaat and lemonade that night, she had told the whole story to Ariadne. Francine was there, accompanied by Kevin the window cleaner, which made Penny smile. She could see Ginni, with her nephew Steve making a rare appearance. A scooter whipped by, containing William Goodfellow, all bundled up in a dark blue World War Two RAF greatcoat. Sheila from the post office was clutching a bottle of low-calorie wine, and others from the walking group gathered around too.
Shopkeepers and customers, business owners and clients, residents and families and visitors. As the first chime struck, the community fell silent as one, craning their heads to stare up into the dark, damp sky.
“Ten! Nine...”
The countdown was shouted out, louder and louder.
“One!”
Fireworks lit up the sky, even in spite of the rain. Stranger turned to stranger, friend to friend, embracing without embarrassment and wishing one another a happy new year.
Drew caught Penny around the waist and kissed her.
“Here’s to a fantastic new year,” he said. “To you and me.”
“To us.”
And then they were pulled apart by others and they formed a circle of hands, their arms crossed over their chests, and the familiar rendition of Auld Lang Syne held the rain at bay for a little longer.
The End
Also out: Book One, Small Town Shock (http://amzn.to/1EILMdu)
And Book Two, Small Town Secrets (http://amzn.to/1ys54BJ)
And Book Three, Small Town Suspicions, (http://amzn.to/1FTyfO5)
And Book Four, Small Town Trouble, (http://amzn.to/1NsmP6t)
And Book Five, Small Town Treason, (http:/amzn.to/1PodVvl)
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Author’s Note
Lincolnshire is real! It’s a massive rural county in the east of England, with a sparse population. It’s mostly agricultural. Upper Glenfield, the town in this tale, is fictional. Lincoln, the main city nearest to Glenfield, does exist and it’s worth a visit. The only thing I’ve fictionalised in Lincoln is the layout and situation of the police station.
Just a quick heads-up on the whole spelling and grammar thing. I’m a British author and this book is set in England. Sometimes, British English looks unfamiliar to readers of other variants of English. It’s not just spelling (colour and realise and so on) and not just the vocabulary (pavement for sidewalk, mobile for cell phone) but there are differences even in the way we express ourselves. (In the US, it is more common to say something like “did you see Joanne?” whereas in the UK we would say “have you seen Joanne?” and so on.) Also, my characters do not speak grammatically correct sentences - who does? Not me. Rest assured this book has been copyedited and proofread (errors, alas, are my own and I won’t shoot my editor if you find any.)
I’ve got a website at http://www.issybrooke.com where I have more information about the characters, about Lincolnshire, and the fictional town of Glenfield. It’s a work in progress.
The dog in this story, Kali, is based on our own rescue dog, a Rottie cross called Stella. That’s her on the cover of this book. She left us in 2015 and these books are dedicated to her.
Oh, I’m on Facebook here – https://www.facebook.com/issy.brooke – and Twitter here – @IssyBrooke.
Thank you for reading.
Issy.
Table Of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Author’s Note