Murder By Invitation: Judith Spear Book 1 (A Judith Spears Mystery) by Sam Oman

Author:Sam Oman [Oman, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Foul Duck Books
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

Mud sucked like a vacuum cleaner at Judith’s boots. Minutes into her journey and she was already regretting tromping across the estate in the dead of night, in the middle of another fearsome rainstorm. She knew the forecast called for rain, but since arriving at Beaconsfield Manor, it had turned into a monsoon, a tempest, a flood. Driving wind angled the fat raindrops almost horizontally as they struck her. She focused on the mud, regretting that she was relying on her phone’s torch, rather than bringing along something more substantial.

She retraced the route Stephen had driven to the river, which involved crossing a pair of cattle grids in the wet darkness and trudging for forty minutes in the pitch-black countryside. Judith was not one to be spooked, but she was thankful the rain drumming on her hood was drowning out anything lurking in the darkness. Three times she slipped in the mud and barely kept her balance. She radiated confidence while in the company of others but was far too conscious of her middling years that a spill in a dark field could have bone-breakable consequences. Yet, in the world of Judith Spears, curiosity conquered fear every time. Which is why she was always landing herself in trouble.

She had budgeted thirty minutes to get to the broadband box, and ten minutes to poke around. Just over an hour in which she hoped Terry Hardman wouldn’t head down to the kitchen and notice she wasn’t asleep on the sofa. However, the weather front and increasing wind hampered progress.

Judith stopped to catch her breath and turned away from the brutish wind that was causing the silhouetted trees at the edge of the field to lash with fury. She made a mental note of her position – which was difficult with the feeble torch light. It would be so easy to get confused and wander in the wrong direction. She reminded herself that she just had to head downhill towards the river.

Fifty-two minutes later, she heard the surging water before drawing close enough to catch the turgid river at the edge of her torch light. It was in spate and worse than before as it crept into the field. The encroaching water was threatening to sweep away the bonfire she had come to investigate. Already, water was only a foot away from the firepit where the medicine bottles had been dumped. Hurrying, she walked around the junction box, which was dangerously close to being flooded.

The rocks gave a welcome relief from the muddy ground. She knelt at the edge of the firepit, her knees cracking like twigs. The rain had soaked through the arms of her jacket, making her shiver – which further caused the light to bob in her cold hand. There were two brown medicine bottles in the fire. Old style ones, made from brown glass rather than the cheap plastic used nowadays. With her free hand, she pulled a kitchen sandwich bag from her pocket and slipped her numb fingers inside.

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