A Fall From A Manor: A DCI Cieran Black Scottish Crime Thriller (DCI Cieran Black Scottish Crime Thrillers Book 10) by Ramsay Sinclair

Author:Ramsay Sinclair [Sinclair, Ramsay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-04T00:00:00+00:00

17

Tracking down Lucas Fox was tricky. The man was a ghost. Any of the witnesses that the detectives spoke to claimed that there was not one place in which Lucas could be counted on to show up to reliably. Some suggested just showing up at Alana’s front door and waiting for the man to stop by, but others claimed that Lucas hadn’t stayed at Alana’s house in well over a month.

Though, they were short on options, and so they showed up on Alana’s front doorstep, anyway.

Alana’s cottage was a short walk away from the village center, down a narrow road that twisted and turned through the grasslands. The small house came into view at the edge of Saltrest, a lonely structure, though beautiful in its own sort of way.

It was a quaint stone building with white walls weathered by years of exposure to the elements. The roof was steep, covered with dark slate tiles, and it boasted a small chimney that puffed a lazy stream of smoke into the overcast sky.

A picket fence with white chipped and peeling paint bordered the property, enclosing a modest garden where herbs and flowers grew in neat, organized rows. As they approached the gate, Cieran noted a cluster of wind chimes hanging from the eaves, their soft tinkling carrying on the breeze.

It was nice, but it was a whole world away from Fox Manor, making Cieran wonder why she chose to live in the cottage rather than the sprawling estate.

Leigha knocked on the door, and after a moment, it opened to reveal Alana Fox. She looked weary, though she could hardly be blamed for that. Her eyes were tired, but they were sharp, studying the two detectives carefully before she stepped aside and let them in.

The interior of the cottage was warm, far more so than the stark grayness of the world outside. The living room was small but cozy, and the walls were lined with shelves filled with books, most of which seemed to be well worn and well loved. A large window, streaked with raindrops, let natural light filter through the space. A threadbare armchair rested in the corner, and an old wooden table was off to the side, with a few chairs gathered around it. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, keeping the room warm, and the air smelled of herbs and something faintly sweet.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Alana said, her voice slightly clipped as she gestured toward the chairs around the table. “Tea?”

Leigha nodded, offering the other woman a small smile. “Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Alana looked to Cieran, offering him the same thing wordlessly, but the man shook his head, watching as Alana moved into the adjacent kitchen area where she began to boil the kettle. While her back was turned, Cieran took in the rest of his surroundings, his eyes scanning the room. There were photos on the mantel—family photographs. Two children, who must have been a young Alana and Lucas, with parents who smiled brightly at the camera.

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