The Complete Christmas Cozy Collection by Shéa MacLeod

Author:Shéa MacLeod
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christmas, culinary cozy mystery, Traditional British mystery, humor
Publisher: Sunwalker Press
Published: 2023-12-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

It was a forty-five-minute train ride from Meres Reach to Plymouth, and I spent the time trying to read the latest Josephine Tey detective novel which I’d picked up at the Post Office. It was a used copy, so Mr. Johnson had let me borrow it for free. I found it difficult to focus on the fictional adventure when I had such questions swirling in my mind.

At last the train arrived in Plymouth, and Tippy and I alighted and made our way to the ticket office. When I asked the middle-aged man behind the counter how to get to Upper Snow Falls, he gave me a once over through thick lensed glasses.

“Can’t get there by train.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine,” I said. “Is there a bus?”

“American?”

“Yes, I am.” At least I assumed he meant me and not the bus.

“Don’t get many of those. Not since the war.”

I wasn’t sure whether to apologize or what. Instead I offered a smile and repeated my query. “Is there a bus that goes to Upper Snow Falls?”

“Sure. Right out there.” He nodded toward the road that ran in front of the station. “But you better hurry. It’s about to leave.”

Tossing a thank you over my shoulder, I ran for it, dragging Tippy behind me. I caught sight of the bus, an ancient, lumbering, dark green monstrosity. It was just pulling away from the curb as I exited the station. I hollered at the top of my lungs, dashing toward it, Tippy yapping at my heels. Heads turned to watch the brash American making a spectacle.

Spectacle or not, it worked. The bus slowed and lurched to a stop and the door opened. The uniformed driver, a stout man with a flourishing red beard, stared at me. I stared back.

“You want this bus or not?” he said.

“Are you going to Upper Snow Falls?”

“Pass right through there, sure.”

I nodded and climbed aboard, handing him the necessary coins for the fare. “Will you tell me when we get there?”

“Sure thing, Miss.”

Before I took a seat I asked, “How long will it take?”

He shrugged. “Twenty minutes. Half hour. Depends.”

He did not say what it depended on, so I took an aisle seat. And since the bus was nearly empty, I let Tippy up on the window seat. He immediately pressed his nose against the window and stared out at the world, tongue lolling from his mouth.

The scenery was breathtaking with sheer drops into rolling blue waters on one side and rolling green hills on the other. Here and there were dotted small farm houses, fields of sheep, and villages so small they made Meres Reach seem like a thriving metropolis.

The bus bounced and wobbled over potholes and around corners, doing its best to induce a feeling of seasickness. I was starting to think I would need the driver to pull over when he lurched to a sudden stop and shouted, “Upper Snow Falls.”

Upper Snow Falls was one of those little villages that had sprung up around a crossroads. Well,

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