Candy Cane Conspiracies (Claire's Candles Cozy Mystery Book 7) by Agatha Frost

Author:Agatha Frost [Frost, Agatha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pink Tree Publishing LTD
Published: 2022-12-19T16:00:00+00:00

Claire hurried through the Victorian conservatory at the back of Starfall House and into the kitchen. She waited for the heat to wrap around her, but it didn’t come. It was almost as freezing inside as out. She walked through a cloud of her condensing breath and into the entrance hall. There wasn’t a light on in the place, the only illumination the hazy glow of the setting twilight sun. Instinct drove her towards a flickering light in the library. She let out a sigh of relief when she heard crackling flames.

Scott was in a high-backed chair by the fire, his feet propped on a footstool – wearing slippers made of sheep’s wool and not cat fur. A laptop lit up his face, and he didn’t notice her until Claire was almost at the chair opposite him. His extreme concentration faded instantly, and he looked at her with strained eyes. A shadow of purple circled red rings drawn around bloodshot pupils. He looked like Damon after a lengthy Dawn Ship tournament.

“Bit nippy in here,” Claire said, pointing to the chair by the fire. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” Scott’s feet darted off the footstool, and he sat up straight. He placed the laptop on a side table. “Kirsty’s taken control of the thermostat in the name of cost-cutting. She says she wants us all to stay here, but it feels like she’s trying to freeze us out. Couldn’t stand to be in my room for another second. Found a stack of logs in the cellar.” He threw another couple onto the flames, and the comforting air warmed the bite from Claire’s cheeks. “They’re saying the snow’s here to stay. Northash’s very own mini ice age.”

“I swear I hear that yearly, but the snow always melts eventually.” Claire tugged off her gloves between her teeth and settled into the chair, sensing her opportunity to dig deeper with Scott. “You’re from around these parts, aren’t you? Not Northash, but close. Your accent is Lancashire, but I can’t quite place it.”

“I’m from near Blackpool way,” he said, tossing a gesture in the direction of the observatory as though Blackpool wasn’t at least an hour’s drive away. “I’ve moved further east as I’ve grown older. One of the joys of being freelance is moving around as much as I please.”

Claire realised she didn’t know what Scott did; so far, his role in The Collective hadn’t stretched beyond being Anne’s boyfriend.

“Freelance?”

“Graphic designer,” he said, lifting the lid of his laptop a little. “Well, an all-round digital artist. Got in on the ground with web designing back in the nineties, and I’ve never done anything else. With everything going on, I’d rather do anything but write code for a website, but I had deadlines before Anne died, and they haven’t vanished.”

Claire squinted at the bright screen, recognising the chippy menu, although it looked slightly different from the current design. She’d left him in the chippy yesterday afternoon, rubbing the corner of the menu. He worked quick.

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