Murder in the Valley: A Lady Margaret Turnbull Cozy Mystery (International Cozy Mysteries Series Book 4)
Authors: C T Mitchell
Tags: #Murder in the Valley
Murder in the Valley
By
C T Mitchell
Copyright
Copyright © 2015
by C T Mitchell
Cover and
internal design © Wood Duck Media
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reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any
electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval
systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews –
without the permission in writing from its publisher, C T Mitchell.
All brand names
and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or
trade names of their respective holders. We are not associated with any product
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Maggie Turnbull stood on her sun drenched verandah. In one
hand she held a mug of coffee, with the other she shielded her eyes from the
sun’s glare. She enjoyed the moment to look out from her hilltop home that was
known as Lawler’s Loft. It was a beautiful area that always had fresh air and
warm sunlight to provide for her and any guests that she entertained.
Privately, Maggie felt blessed to have found such a good
guest house in Lawler's Loft. In the beginning, the house was in sore need of
a protector who would give it new life. There were some hopeful buyers who
avoided or even rejected it for the shape it was in but not Maggie. She
refurbished and turned it into a bed and breakfast. Business was slow at first
but soon began to pick up as news and word of Maggie’s hospitality spread.
Lawler's Loft always had sun and warmth in great abundance.
Maggie never suspected Australia would be so warm and enjoyable compared to the
cold and bleak days of her time living in the United Kingdom. If she had known
Australia was so inviting, she would have moved here twenty years ago instead
of ten. What Maggie did miss – or who rather – was her late husband Malcolm, a
dot com millionaire, who passed away from a heart attack far too early in
life. She was grateful for his financial prowess and ideas that enabled her to
live on her own even without him.
Maggie looked up when her thoughts of Malcolm's memory were
interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Maggie walked through the plush,
comfortable rooms of Lawler’s Loft's main floor as the pounding on the door
became more frantic.
“Coming, coming!” Maggie called. “Don't knock my door
in. I'm coming.” Maggie opened the door to reveal the hunched form of one of
the locals – Lucy Broad. She gasped. “Lucy! Goodness, whatever is the
matter?”
Lucy’s shoulders shuddered as she struggled to take in a
deep breath. She lifted up her face to reveal a wet, puffy, red face. Her
eyes were practically swollen shut from all the crying. Her hair was a
disheveled mess and her clothes were wrinkled.
“Did someone try to attack you?” Maggie asked when Lucy
just stood shaking on her doorstep instead of telling her what was the
matter. “Please, Lucy, you know you can tell me.”
Lucy took several deep, gulping breathes before saying:
“I—I almost got into an accident while coming to Bangalow! I didn’t know where
else to go but I need to talk to someone! It’s so strange! It’s too strange!”
“What’s too strange? What happened?”
“The police in Lismore are absolutely useless! Useless!
They couldn’t find a window in a room even with a map!”
Maggie guided Lucy into the house, through the main hall, to
the sitting room. “Please, take a seat,” she said. “I'll pour you a cup of
tea.”
“Thank you,” Lucy whispered as Maggie deposited a box of
tissues in her still trembling hand. “I knew I could count on you to not judge
and just be supportive. You're a true gem, Maggie.”
“Every person is worth our time and understanding,” Maggie
said before disappearing to the kitchen to pour the tea. Under different
circumstances, she would have gotten a tray to carry the tea cups and saucers
out on but these times did not allow themselves for formalities. Instead, she
carried one cup and saucer in each hand as she returned to the living room.
“I brought you your tea,” Maggie said kindly.
“Thank you.” Lucy reached out for the cup to take a sip. “I
suppose you’re wondering why I turned up on your doorstep like this.”
“I am,” Maggie admitted as she sat down across from Lucy.
Looking up again, Lucy gave Maggie a small smile. “You
don't know me that well, Lady Margaret, so I feel there are some things I
should explain to you. Just so you understand everything, that's all.”
Maggie nodded. “Go on.”
“My husband Winston and I live north of Bangalow in Federal,
New South Wales. We live on an acreage estate that’s Winston’s property. We
inherited it from Winston’s grandfather. It’s a lovely place but, like any old
estate, was falling apart. Winston used to be a stock broker for Barclays UK.
He ran the local branch office here and that’s how we were able to renovate our
house last year.”
Maggie normally was quite good at learning the latest gossip
around town but Winston not working at Lismore anymore was new information for
her. “Used to be?” Maggie asked.
“Winston resigned from the firm in Lismore?”
“Yes, three months ago.” Lucy's hands tightened around the
tea cup to the point her knuckles almost turned white. “I didn’t know that he
had quit until I phoned Barclays UK in Lismore and found out that he left! He
never told me or even dropped any hints!”
As if sensing what Maggie was about to ask Lucy continued as
she gripped the cup in a death grip. “I don’t know where, if anywhere, Winston
is working now. He goes to work somewhere as usual every morning and comes
back at night. That is except for last night when he didn’t come home.”
Maggie knew a little about Winston Broad from her usual
sources of gossip in town. He was handsome, well liked (or lusted after) by
the ladies and could convince anyone of anything. She wouldn't be the least
bit surprised if he went into town every morning to hide some ongoing affair
and came home to his wife at night. Winston definitely came across as the type
of bloke that wanted to have his cake and eat it too.
“Do you think Winston could have been seeing someone else?”
Maggie asked as tactfully as possible. Now that she had Lucy calmed down, she
didn't need to send her into a fresh torrent of tears.
Lucy shook her head. “No, Winston would never have an
affair. It’s not in his nature at all. We were planning our five year anniversary
last weekend. He wouldn't do that to me. He just wouldn't.”
Lucy’s pink cheeks turned a deeper pink as she realized how
forceful and in denial that must sound. “I’m sorry, forgive me. I just get
so frustrated as those are the same questions that Detective Tom Sullivan asked
me when I went to see him this morning. No one wants to believe me when I say
Winston wouldn’t have an affair. It's the likely conclusion so of course
everyone jumps to it.”
“Why did you come to see me about it?” Maggie asked.
Lucy looked up and blinked her red, tear bright eyes.
“Because you need to help me prove it.”
“Help you?” Maggie blinked wide eyes at Lucy. “I. . .I
don't make it a habit to play detective.”
“But you have before, so why not again?” Lucy set her cup
of tea down. “You don't have to tell me one way or the other now, but just
promise to think it over. Please?”
“With any luck, there will be nothing to investigate.”
Maggie patted Lucy's hand in a motherly gesture that usually got the locals to
spill all juicy details they knew about town happenings. She didn't mean to
know and see all, it was just part of being known as a good hostess and even
better listener. “I'll bet dollars to donuts that Winston is just being
forgetful and will come home.”
Lucy frowned. “I have my doubts that he will return but
never mind that. A lot can happen in twelve hours. That's when the Lismore
Police will let me file an official missing person report.”
She sighed. “Twelve hours. I don't know if I can wait that
long. Not knowing where he is or if he's safe or not is driving me mad.”
“The police have procedures for a reason.” Maggie picked up
the empty tea things in one hand and gestured for Lucy to follow her. She
deposited the cups and saucers in the kitchen before leading the way to the
front door. “I'll think about what you're...requesting...but only after these
next twelve hours pass with no word from Winston. Do we have a deal?”
The offer of help – even the delayed offer of help – seemed
to calm Lucy. Her whole body relaxed as she stepped through the door onto the
front porch. “Thank you, Lady Margaret. Thank you.”
“Don't thank me just yet.” Maggie leaned against the door
frame. “There's no case yet.”
“Oh, there will be.” Lucy tried to straighten up her
disheveled hair and clothes. “There will be.”
Once Lucy was gone, Maggie shut the door. Something about
Lucy’s story and her behavior seemed, well, off to Maggie. She kept an eye on
the drive way and once Lucy had driven away she left the room to go to her
computer. There was bound to be information about Barclays UK stock online.
Maggie knew if she could find out what the connection was she was certain she
could tell Lucy and put this horrible question behind them.
She was a natural sleuth and wasn’t about to let the
question of what happened to Winston just fade into the background. Not when
his life could be at stake. As she stated before, a lot could happen in the
matter of twelve hours. Maggie wasn't willing to find out what exactly 'a lot'
translated in Winston's case.
“And more Lucy was beside herself with worry,” Maggie
muttered to herself as she started sleuthing online. You could find just
about anything online as long as you knew where to look. Maggie started out by
looking for information on Winston's stock. Barclays UK was a rather large
organization, and in some regions, branches went out into debt collection. If
someone owed a large amount of money and saw Winston as their enemy, that would
be an excellent motivator to cause him harm.
Maggie’s excitement at finding a possible motive evaporated
the longer she searched online. As much as she dug and searched into that side
of the business, she kept hitting brick walls. Barclays protected their inside
information tighter than Fort Knox. Frustrated, she got up and paced around
her office. Why was there little to nothing to be found? Was everything
locked up in restricted files? Fat chance of getting clearance to that unless
she made nice with an employee.
“Now there's a thought,” she said out loud.
Who could she find that worked in that department of the
firm. Whoever was working in that part of the business would want to keep a
low profile as debt collectors were often frowned upon as much as tow-truck or
repossession companies. She couldn’t think of anyone who liked to advertise
their efforts or their success in that regards. It would be easy for some
disgruntled person to try to cause them harm.
Despite the bad guy persona, repossession and debt
collecting was a lucrative enterprise that existed since before the Roman
Empire and would continue to exist long after they were all gone. Is that what
happened to Lucy's husband?
Could Winston be involved in debt collection and a disgruntled
person harmed him?
Lucy Broad sighed as she returned to her home in Federal.
She really didn’t want to go home after Winston had gone missing. She didn’t
want to deal with the stares and whispers she knew would follow. The stares
and comments would include pity, disgust, wonderment, and comments about her
marriage to Winston.
It made her sick just thinking about it. Was it so hard
for everyone in town to accept that Winston chose her? Sure, he could have had
his pick of women – he probably still could – but he chose her. Lucy knew how
lucky she was. She didn't need everyone reminding her that they thought
Winston was just bidding his time until something or someone better came
along. Lucy let her shoulders slouch as she pulled into her drive way. At
least Maggie was kind to her. It seemed like no one else was willing to extend
her that same courtesy during this trying time.
Climbing out of her car, Lucy headed towards the door but,
before she could reach it, she caught sight of something that hadn’t been there
before. For one horrifying moment, she thought her door was covered in blood.
Closer inspection revealed that it was red paint. Red paint that someone used
to send her a message –
“You move or else!”
Lucy gasped. She couldn't stop herself from reading the
terrible words over and over again as if they would somehow change the more she
looked at them. Who would be so cruel? Who would write such a thing at a time
like this? Her husband was missing. She didn't need to worry about vandalism
and threats on top of it all.
For a moment, Lucy debated calling the police or venturing
inside her house to see if they vandalized more than just the door. Would the
police be of any help at all since they were no help at all when she tried to
report Winston's disappearance? Why would they be any help now? Would they
accuse her of writing the words herself for attention or sympathy?
Lucy struggled to build up her courage before she cautiously
ventured inside her house. She couldn’t hear any signs of life or anyone
around. She hoped that meant the vandals had long since left. She took a deep
breath to calm her nerves before pushing the door open. What she saw made her
gasp more than seeing the words scrawled on her front door did.
The house was destroyed! It was an absolute mess. There
were large red paint splashes over every piece of furniture in the living room
and kitchen. It looked as if someone set a red paint bomb off in her room!
Tears stung Lucy's eyes as she teetered between despair and
fear. Who would do such a thing? What had she ever done to anyone in town
besides try to live her life as quietly as possible? She didn't like drama –
Winston was the flashy one in the relationship – but it seemed like, no matter
what, drama followed her.
Lucy fled the house and ran to her car. She sat in the
driver's seat, hands gripping the steering wheel and took deep, gulping
breathes to calm herself. Once her hands stopped shaking, instead of driving
off to report the crime, she fumbled for her phone and dialed the first number
that came to mind – Maggie Turnbull's.
“Maggie, it’s Lucy. I’m sorry to call you like this but
I’m in trouble,” Lucy said after Maggie picked up. “Someone broke into my
house and wrote 'move now or else' on my door and all my windows. They threw
red paint over everything. My furniture, countertops, walls...It's horrible.
It's just horrible. At first...At first, I thought it was blood.” Lucy broke
down in tears. “Who would do something like this? I don't understand.”
“I can think of a few whose and what fors but I'll save that
for when you're here instead of there” Maggie said. “Come to my place and stay
here for a while, Lucy, or at least until this affair is sorted out.”
“Are you sure?” Lucy asked. “I wouldn’t want to put you in
any danger.”
“You should be safe here. I have plenty of room at Lawler’s
Loft and it’s quiet at the moment. I only have one guest so that will leave
lots of room for you.”
Lucy didn't take long to think things over. She didn't want
to be alone right now. Maggie offered her a cozy place to stay and company.
How could she say no? “Alright. I'll be there shortly.”
“I'll put some tea on for you.”