The America Ground (The Forensic Genealogist Series Book 3) by Goodwin Nathan Dylan

Author:Goodwin, Nathan Dylan [Goodwin, Nathan Dylan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

‘Where have you been?’ Juliette asked, when he entered the lounge.

Morton sighed. He’d spent half of his journey home considering what his next course of action should be in the Lovekin Case and the other half trying to think up a watertight story to feed to Juliette. As hard as it would be, he had made up his mind to keep this afternoon’s drama to himself for now. He knew that PC Juliette Meade would be straight onto his case, demanding an explanation for the huge gap between his text message saying that he was coming home and his actual arrival time.

‘Sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I just needed time to think. After I texted you I got a coffee and just tried to…well, think. You know, weddings, Dad and all that.’

‘Okay,’ Juliette said, eyeing him suspiciously. ‘That sounds ominous.’

Morton smiled. ‘No, it’s all fine. Just lots of thinking. But I’m not going to let Dad and Madge get in the way of our plans. So, let’s get on with it.’

‘What happened to your neck?’ she asked.

He’d already pre-empted the questions the gaping wound on his neck would bring, so he’d stopped off at a supermarket on his way home and bought a packet of plasters and a fresh shirt with a passing resemblance to his old bloodstained one. If it were covered at least, she wouldn’t be able to see how bad it really was. ‘I cut myself shaving this morning,’ he lied.

‘Right.’

She was still looking at him doubtfully and he wasn’t sure if he had been believed or not. ‘Shall we get on with it, then?’

‘I’ve got all the wedding bits out ready,’ Juliette said, pointing to the kitchen table, which was when Morton looked over and noticed the two envelopes from the General Register Office. Ann Lovekin’s marriage certificate and Keziah Lovekin’s death certificate. ‘All that remains is for us now to open some red and get deciding.’

‘You didn’t like my Vegas idea, then?’ Morton joked, unable to stop himself from wondering at the contents of the two envelopes.

Juliette smirked as she opened a bottle of wine and poured out two large glasses. ‘You need to be serious about this, Mr Farrier.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, taking a glass from the table.

Juliette took a seat beside him. ‘Right. First things first. Any preference for timescale? I was thinking next year sometime.’

Morton nodded. ‘Next year sometime sounds good.’

‘Summer?’ she asked hopefully.

‘Summer sounds good.’

‘Okay. That was easy enough. Tick. Right, venue.’

‘Venue sounds good.’ He knew that he was over-compensating for the shock of his afternoon and needed to rein it in or else she might become suspicious.

Juliette pulled a scorned look and slapped his arm. ‘Be serious. Do you have any ideas for a venue?’

‘Not really, but I’m guessing by the gargantuan file in front of us, that you have,’ he said, taking a large gulp of wine. This was going to be a long night. He eyed the certificates on the table again, but knew that they would have to wait now until tomorrow.

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