by Carrie Marsh
Dining With The Dead
A Millerfield Village Cozy Murder Mysteries Series
Carrie Marsh
SMILING HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.
Contents
Copyright
Monthly Giveaway Contest
A Personal Note From Carrie Marsh
Dining With The Dead
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Monthly Giveaway Contest
Also By Carrie Marsh
Acknowledgement
If You Have Enjoyed This Book…
Publisher’s Notes
Copyright © 2017 by CARRIE MARSH & SMILING HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not intentional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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A PERSONAL NOTE
FROM CARRIE MARSH
To My Dearest Lovely Readers,
Dining With The Dead is a prequel to the other books in the series, all of which are completely cozy mysteries. The can be read and enjoyed in any order. I’ve made sure not to include any spoilers for those you who are new to the characters.
You will have plenty of fresh action and mystery, as well as little background story on some of the major characters in Laura universe. All in all, there is something for everyone.
I had squeezed out every single creative juice on my brain creating this book - I hope you will have a great time reading it too.
With Hugs, Kisses and Love…
DINING WITH THE DEAD
by
CARRIE MARSH
and
Smiling House Publishing Co.
CHAPTER ONE
INTRODUCTIONS
Millerfield is a small village.
That means, for those of you who don't know, that there is only one street in total, the population is divided equally between the extremely old and the very young, and, most importantly: everyone knows everyone else.
Laura Howcroft, standing behind her desk at the Woodend Cottage Hotel, realized, not for the first time that day, just how small Millerfield was. The thing that made her realize it was that nobody knew her. And that, surprisingly, hurt.
“Eh...who's the new girl?” she heard a farmer say as he headed past her.
“Dunno...she's not from here – never clapped eyes on her afore.”
“Oh,” the farmer said, eying her with mistrust, “a foreigner.”
Laura rolled her eyes. It was, she thought, rather rude. To say nothing of unreasonable.
I'm from Cambridge, she wanted to shout. That's a hundred miles away! She suddenly realized that, for people whose entire world was slightly over two square miles, a hundred miles away was another galaxy. For them, she was practically from outer space.
She leaned on her desk and sighed. Not for the first time, Laura wondered why she had moved here from her own larger village of Cambridge.
“It seemed like a good idea...” she said under her breath.
Just then, a voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Miss?”
Laura looked up, and carried on looking. She was staring into the darkest eyes she had ever seen. Mesmerizing and almost-black, framed by long, dark lashes, the eyes were warm and intelligent.
“Good afternoon,” she replied, swallowing.
Something in those eyes tugged at her heart, making her feel things that sensible, practical Laura Howcroft did not feel. Ever. The love of her life was Monty – her cat – and that was just fine.
“I think I have a reservation,” the man said, genially. His voice was warm as melted butter on a crumpet, and Laura felt something peculiar happen in her heart.
“Uh...” she went blank. What was the Maître d' of a restaurant supposed to ask, again? “...name?” she remembered, relieved.
“That would help,” the man agreed.
Laura bridled. That was, she thought, a bit cheeky. Even though he was her age, or maybe even older, she felt a need to reprimand him.
“No need to be rude, you know,” she said crisply, not looking up from the list of the day's reservations.
“Apologies,” the man replied frostily.
“Fine,” she mumbled, secretly pleased that she had made him feel uncomfortable. “Since it would help so much, could I have your name?” she smiled sarcastically.
“Well, most people in the village know me,” the man said distantly. “I'm Doctor Lucas.”
Oh, heck...Laura thought, shutting her eyes. Rule number one of village life: never, ever offend the only doctor.
“Fine,” she said, quietly. She ran her finger down the list of surnames. “Dr. Howard Lucas...we put you at table Three. Enjoy,”
“I shall do my best,” the doctor said archly, and walked off without a backward glance.
As soon as he had gone, Laura collapsed on the desk. Why, she thought, sadly, am I doing this? I should have stayed at home, and joined Emma when she moved into a caravan...
Laura ran a hand through her blonde hair, and, turning, caught sight of herself, reflected in the mirror behind the counter. Of middle height, with delicate features and blue eyes, Laura had never quite known how to classify herself. A friend had told her she looked like Sharon Stone and Laura, not being one for movies, had had to look her up on the Internet. Laura grinned at herself.
I'm sure Sharon Stone never had under-eye rings like that, she thought critically. Fine bloody film star I'd be.
“Laura!”
A bright, genial voice broke through her miserable reverie. Laura blinked. Inwardly, she quailed. It was not that Janet was unwelcome, exactly...she was just so loud!
“Janet,” Laura said, giving the red-haired receptionist a watery smile. Miss Janet Lister worked at the front desk of the hotel, a position she had held for a few years before Laura arrived. Janet had also been an “incomer”, and had sympathy for Laura.
“What's the matter?” Janet asked convivially. “Not enjoying your first day at work...?”
; “Not at all...” Laura said indistinctly, “...what makes you think that?”
“Come on, Laura!” Janet boomed, “I've seen more cheerful murder victims!”
Laura sighed. “I am enjoying it, Janet,” she began, “...it's just that everyone seems so – so unfriendly! So suspicious of me. And I can't seem to do anything about it.”
Janet laughed.
“That's not your fault! It's just the way it is around here. You know, small village, tight-knit community? They'll get used to you – you'll see.”
Laura swallowed. She was not too sure how reassuring that was. The day these people got used to me is the day I move out she thought.
How could she be absorbed in this small, mean-spirited community? She shuddered at the thought.
“Never mind,” Janet said carefully. “I brought you a scone. That'll make it better, you'll see.”
She produced the scone, arranged on a little plate, and left it at Laura's side. “Nothing ever happens here, and no-one ever changes,” Janet added, “...but you can be sure a scone will make it all all right.”
Patting Laura on the shoulder, she turned and left, headed back to the hotel reception desk.
Watching her go, Laura felt a lump in her throat that had nothing to do with the scone-induced hunger, and more to do with feeling truly moved.
“Perhaps this village, and its inhabitants, aren't too bad after all,” she muttered under her breath. Looking around the restaurant to make sure she wasn't needed, she went into the office and bit into her scone. Creamy and covered in strawberry jam, it was warm and crumbly, fresh out of the oven.
As her eye fell on Dr. Lucas, sitting by the window with a sandwich and the local paper, she felt somewhat less certain that a scone could improve everything.
“I shall forget about him,” she told herself primly. “For the moment, I shall allow that scones, while not making things better, can make them more bearable.” Even, she thought, in villages where nothing ever happens.
CHAPTER TWO
A COMFORTABLE EVENING
The late evening sun slanted through the window of Laura's rented cottage. She sat at the kitchen table, looking idly through the newspaper while she drank her last coffee of the day. She sighed, enjoying the immense peacefulness of the countryside.
She heard something solid thump in the sitting-room. She grinned.
“Monty!” Her whole face lit up as the large, black cat walked in through the kitchen door. “How are you?”
Not too bad actually, the cat's thought-voice replied. The field up there is full of mice, did you notice?
“No,” Laura grinned. “Is that good?”
Depends, Monty grumbled, as he sat himself firmly down on a fallen sheet of newspaper, and began to clean his paw, on what you mean by good.
The answer was characteristically laconic, and Laura smiled. Monty had been part of the reason why she had taken this job...her other offer had been in York, and she knew pet-friendly apartments were hard to find in a big city.
“What's good about a field of mice?” she asked.
Well, Monty replied, looking self-satisfied, it means that the neighborhood cats all go there. I'm meeting people around here.
“Oh, Monty,” Laura chuckled. “I'm glad you're settling in. I would that I was.”
You will, he said cryptically.
Laura sighed. “I hope so.”
Trust me.
Laura smiled a little sadly, and finished her coffee. She wished she could make some friends, but no-one she had met so far had really captured her imagination. Except one person, that was.
He isn't so bad, that Dr. Lucas, she thought. Not when you actually meet him... She grinned at herself. Why was it that she could not stop thinking about him?
The conversation she had with Dr. Lucas the day before kept playing around her head: She's very funny, doctor. Is she, indeed?
She recalled the way Dr. Lucas had looked at her, and the warmth in his eyes when he smiled.
I rather like him, she said to herself. She blushed.
“Laura Howcroft, you are acting like a teenager,” she told herself, sternly. She laughed. Perhaps she was, but she didn't really want to stop.
She wished she could talk to Monty about it, but Monty was always non-committal when it came to the subject of relationships. He liked some of her friends, disliked others and left the house altogether for some.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
“Janet?” she asked, surprised.
“Hi!” Janet grinned. “I went up to the Hogarth farm, and bought some strawberries. I thought you might like to share?”
Laura smiled. They did look delicious.
“Thank you, Janet.”
Janet stayed where she was on the doorstep, clearly bursting to tell Laura her news.
“And up at the Hogarth farm, I bumped into a fancy businessman, and he said he was looking for a place to stay, and I said: “Why not Woodend Cottage Hotel?” And so he said yes.”
Laura smiled. “An extra customer. Do we have room?”
“Of course!” Janet beamed. “And you should have seen him, Laura...he's quite hot, in a funny kind of way...”
Laura grinned. Typical Janet, she thought. Though she had only known her a few days, it seemed it didn't take long to find out all about her there was to know. And all about everyone else, too.
Laura invited her in, and she sat with coffee and strawberries and chatted for about an hour. Then she went home.
After she had left, Laura stood in the middle of the room and called.
“She's gone, Monty. You can come out now...”
About time, Monty grumbled. He looked pained. Right in the middle of my nap, too. Does she always talk so much?
Usually more, Laura replied, and he shuddered, and then climbed onto her lap, walking in a circle to flatten her skirt to make it a comfortable bed.
The two of them sat, Monty curled up on Laura's knee, and watched the sunset.
CHAPTER THREE
PECULIAR HAPPENINGS
“Laura! Laura...Come quick!”
Laura, just finished taking notes for a reservation, slammed the receiver down and looked up at Janet, feeling suddenly exhausted.
Nothing ever happens? Laura asked herself, wry. This must be, she thought, weary, the third crisis in the last five hours! And it's only my second day at work...
“What's happening, Janet?” she asked, instantly alert as she scanned Janet's face. Her new friend looked distressed.
“It's Chelsea...she's crying in my office. Can you help?”
Laura swallowed. Chelsea, the teen-age girl who did most of the tidying, was unlikely to be upset by something trivial. She seemed to Laura to have infinite resilience: she had never seen a person who could come up with such smart retorts so fast.
“I can try...” Laura ventured.
“Good! Ta, Laura,” Janet breathed thankfully. “I can't seem to help, and we have a coach of visitors at midday...” she checked her watch. “Oh, hell! Better go. Chelsea's in my office, if you're coming...”
Laura nodded.
“Miss Howcroft?”
“Mm?” Laura looked up at the guest beside Janet.
“Could I book the restaurant tomorrow afternoon, between lunch and tea? I need to have a meeting.”
“Yes, of course,” Laura agreed. “Mr..?”
“Neville Ramley. I booked in on Monday?”
“Oh, of course. Very well...” Laura's voice trailed off as she wrote the details down. “I'll print off a sign for the door, if you like?”
“Thank you.” Mr. Ramley agreed.
“Laura!” Janet hissed urgently after he had gone. “Come on!”
Together, they raced off up the corridor. They bumped into a businessman on his way downstairs.
“Oh, hi, Mr. Hogarth...” Janet said. Laura smiled. She was almost batting her eyelashes.
“Hi,” he said politely, then hurried past.
That must be him, La
ura thought, wryly – the business man from the farm.
In the front office, Chelsea did indeed seem inconsolable.
“It's not...I didn't...” she wailed, as Laura came to talk to her.
“It's okay, Chelsea,” she reassured the girl. “What is it you didn't do?”
“Search me...” Janet muttered, and ran quickly out to the front lawn to welcome the coach tour, leaving Laura alone in the office with the inconsolable Chelsea.
“I mean it,” Laura said gently. She sat down beside Chelsea, her hand covering the girl's, where it lay, motionless, on the coffee-table. “If someone has accused you of something, please tell me. I will do my best to help...”
“I didn't...” the girl sniffed, “...steal it.”
Laura breathed out. That was probably easy to solve! All she needed to know now was what had gone missing.
“What was it, Chelsea?” she asked gently. “What didn't you steal...?”
“Nothing!” Chelsea wailed. “I didn't steal nothing! I...”
“Miss Lister...Are you in there?” Someone rattled the door-handle anxiously.
Oh, hell, Laura thought, closing her eyes. Standing, she opened the door.
“Janet is outside,” she said shortly. “Can I help you instead...?”
As it left her lips, she wondered why she had made such an offer. As if she did not have enough to worry about! First a mixed-up reservation, then Chelsea and her alleged thieving, and now...whatever this was.
“Oh, please, Miss!” Mrs. Levitt, the accountant said, “...we need someone strong, we do!”
“Wait here, Chelsea,” Laura said gently, as she let Mrs. Levitt lead her out. Why, she thought, if they need someone strong, ask me? Not much above five foot eight, Laura was petite and slight.
“What's happening, Mrs. Levitt?” she asked, as the delicate old lady led her downstairs.
