Death by Association: The Wellington Cozy Mystery series by M A Comley

Author:M A Comley [Comley, M A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jeamel Publishing Limited
Published: 2021-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

15

Lucy set off toward home, her head swimming with nonsensical notions. She drew in deep breaths to try to clear her mind. Her house in sight, she upped her pace and rounded the next corner to be confronted with raised voices coming from outside Marnie’s home.

There, standing on the porch, were Marnie and Winnie, Marnie’s hands gripping the railing as tightly as a sailor would grip a boat’s handrail in a stormy sea. Winnie was cheering, clapping and shouting words of encouragement. Lucy paused and watched them for a while. She could sense Marnie’s triumph at the tiny bit of freedom she had accomplished by venturing onto the porch. It made her heart sing, knowing she had played a small part in her achievement by introducing her to Winnie.

Marnie’s face was alight. Lucy called out and clapped, “I’m so proud of you!”

Startled by the apparent intrusion, Marnie looked around as a shadow of the old fear flashed across her face. Then she spotted Lucy standing at the end of the drive and frantically waved.

“I did it, Lucy. I really did it,” Marnie hollered.

“Yes, you certainly did. This is your new beginning, Marnie. You rock.”

Marnie went back into her house shortly after. Lucy didn’t want to go back in the house just yet; instead, she opened her shed and grabbed the rake. She began clearing icy leaves from her front yard. That’s when she saw them.

The large footprints sunk into the heavy, wet snow that lay below the fluffier layers from a few nights ago. They led over the curb and into the street as though someone had kept to the pavement until they reached her drive and entered her yard. Lucy shuddered as she withdrew her phone from her pocket and shot a picture of them. It was evidence that would soon disappear if the sun came out.

Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Lucy lay her rescued leaves back over the footprints to protect them. Her bare fingers bit into the icy hard snow with granules of road salt, and plow-spun gravel slid beneath her fingernails. Putting away the rake, Lucy opened the front door with her frozen fingers and dumped her coat and boots in the hallway.

With her heart pounding, Lucy ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower to heat up as she peeled her clothes off. Seeing the conclusive evidence had unnerved her.

Someone had purposefully come into her house with the intent to harm her, using a deliberate approach that would leave very few clues or evidence. Lucy had to admit that she was more than likely still in danger.

The towel was warm from the bathroom’s steam as she rubbed her skin hard until it turned an even brighter crimson than the hot water had created. An upsurging panic made her want to brush away the evidence—give her back the wholesomeness she’d had before her home had been violated. She was desperate to shake off the tag of being a victim.

Dressing in sweats for their soothing warmth and comfort, Lucy wandered into her office and sat down at her desk.

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