The Flood: A totally unputdownable crime novel (A Fiona MacLeish Crime Thriller Book 1) by G.N. Smith

Author:G.N. Smith [Smith, G.N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803149134
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2023-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-EIGHT

The upstairs of the farmhouse was a place Fiona had never been. She’d expected it to be dated, but not by this much. The wallpaper was either a sixties style, or painted woodchip. Underneath her feet, the carpet was worn to the point of threadbare. Fiona could tell it had once been a quality weave, but she’d bet a week’s wage it was at least as old as she was.

Pierce’s warning was uppermost in Fiona’s mind as she padded after William, one of the Tilley lamps in her hand. A shelving rack displayed several ornate thimbles, the greater part of their number now strewn on the carpet with at least three broken. William bent and used a careful hand to sweep them aside, his head shaking as he straightened. It was a rare show of tenderness from the gruff farmer and Fiona expected the collection of thimbles belonged to Elsie, or perhaps William’s late mother.

Ahead of them a bedroom door swayed back and forth in the wind that was now coursing into the farmhouse through the damaged roof. Fiona could hear water dripping and there was the occasional clatter as a slate tumbled down the roof.

William advanced through the doorway in a series of half steps, his torch picking out the great branch that had speared through the roof and into the bed. If anyone had been asleep in that bed, they would have been impaled.

When William’s torch examined what was left of the ceiling, it picked out a mess of broken timber. Fiona had no idea whether the timbers were joists, struts or spars, but she did know that it looked as if it could collapse at any time. Most of the ceiling had already fallen to the floor, and the parts that hadn’t were hanging from the timbers of the ceiling. Water cascaded in at the top where it ran down the undamaged roof, as well as that blown in by the wind. Everything in the room would be ruined and very soon the water damage would extend down into the room below.

A soft bump at Fiona’s back informed her Pierce wanted to join them in the bedroom, so she pressed her back against the wall and allowed him space to complete his assessment.

Pierce’s torch was focused on the roofing timbers, not the branch or the remains of the ceiling. The beam carried along every exposed member as he worked out the extent of the damage.

‘This your bedroom, William?’

‘Aye. What about it?’ William turned to look at Pierce, his hands balling into fists and his tone defensive.

Pierce’s long arm gestured at the bedside table, where a pair of photo frames were knocked flat. ‘Do you want me to get those for you? They’re by your bed so they must be important to you or Elsie.’

‘Please.’

Fiona could hear the grudge in William’s tone, and had a little suspicion Pierce had read his anger and changed what he was going to say about their dated home.

As Pierce skirted the fallen

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