Cornflowers and Corpses by London Lovett

Author:London Lovett [Lovett, London]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Fox Press

Chapter 19

A hearty sun had left behind enough heat between the blue sky and the cement sidewalk that each step produced a cradle of warm air around my feet and legs. Daylight was starting to make its slow, glorious descent into late afternoon, and sparkles of light flickered off the choppy edges of water along the coast. The late day off-shore breeze had churned the ocean into its usual uneasy dance of sharp, quick interval waves. A brave sailboat traversed the rough surface as it torpedoed with full fat sails along the coast.

I picked up my pace and crossed my fingers that some of the fall prone Shearwaters that Nora was hoping for had made their unusual summer debut. I was allowing myself the very real possibility that even if Nora had ventured out to the lighthouse, she would no longer be there. Certainly, word would have reached her that Mason Fanning was dead. It seemed her birding peers would also have informed her about the knife being found. More than once, I considered the possibility that if I did meet up with her, I might be facing a killer, one who knew she was going to be arrested for murder. It wouldn't be the first time I'd found myself in that unfortunate predicament, and it generally earned me a lecture about the dangers of approaching a suspect. And yet, I'd once again found myself in the same situation. I blamed my insatiable appetite for solving a murder. If I could get to a possible suspect before the police that was like frosting on a delicious cupcake. Besides, Nora was petite and not terribly menacing in demeanor or size. How dangerous could she be (especially without her pearl handled knife)?

I took a short jaunt along the wharf to the steps leading down to the ivory sand. It was late enough that most beachgoers had already packed up their umbrellas and ice chests for the day, but a group of determined teenagers were attempting a game of volleyball. The afternoon breeze was not helping. Aside from a couple walking along the shore and another small group huddled on towels eating hot dogs, the sand was empty. No sign of a bird watcher.

I shaded my eyes and glanced along the coast to the lighthouse. Nora was sitting on a smooth rock with her knees bent, holding her legs. Her chin was resting on the tops of her knees. She looked more like a little girl waiting for her turn at jump rope than a woman searching for rare birds.

I hurried off the beach, over the wharf and across to the lighthouse. I followed the narrow hiking path that snaked down to the beach and rocks below the lighthouse.

The constant roar of the ocean muted my approach. Nora was rightly startled by my sudden appearance a few rocks away. She put her hands down to steady herself and keep from slipping along the smooth rock. Her backpack sat next to her, loaded down with all her birding tools.

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