Murder on Silver Lake
Page 14
“They’ve been arrested,” she said.
The deep hum of an organ played, vibrating through the space. “Okay.”
“Let me help you,” she said, offering a hand. “Didn’t Paul check on you.”
I wouldn’t have expected anything else from him, not helping me, not being there to see if I was okay. I didn’t expect that from Paul, and nobody else should have expected it either. He had his big win now, but I was the one who’d found them—albeit almost part of their plan.
Helped to my feet, Ruth dusted me off.
I clutched my handbag close to my chest.
Charlie continued to rub his body against me as hard as he could. He knew what happened, as much as he was a pet, he was in tune with me.
“They killed Don as well,” I said, looking Ruth in the eyes and shaking my head.
“They’ve been arrested, Eve.”
But it didn’t mean everything was okay again.
Entering the church hall, I was greeted with applause. Faces smiled and people cried as I walked out. At first, I wondered who they were greeting, glancing to the coffin still on the stage, and then behind to Ruth.
She clapped as well.
Shivers rose from my back, curving my cheeks and down my neck. I pressed my lips together, I wasn’t going to cry.
“Thank you,” Wendy said, grabbing me by the waist and hugging me tight. “Thank you.” She cried.
I wrapped my arms around her. I wasn’t going to cry.
They led me to the seat on the pew at the front row.
I noticed Scott, standing with applause. How I was so wrong? He wasn’t the killer, he was just very strange—still.
Sat between Wendy and Ruth, my body was warm but numb as I realised how I could’ve potentially been murdered through all of this. I could have potentially been part of the investigation, and they could’ve pinned that on Don as well.
Wendy left her seat, pulling me back into the room as her absence caused me to move.
She took the stage.
Her shaking hand grabbed the small microphone.
“I—I—I loved Gilbert,” she said, her throat throttling with a cough. “He’s always been part of my life, always. I wish I knew the future back then, I wish I fought for us. There are some amazing people among us today, and they’ve taught me that you can’t change the past, but you can—but you can make sure your future is better.”
The future had to be better.
A future without mindless murder.
My handbag vibrated.
Inside, I found Harriet’s eulogy in the illumination of my phone screen.
NEW MESSAGE:
Paul Green: Thank you, Eve. I hope you’re okay.
It was better than nothing.
TWENTY-SEVEN
ONE WEEK LATER
A written account of what had happened was published in a national paper. Right from my mouth, the story sold almost immediately. Everyone wanted to know what was going on in the small villages around the country, and unfortunately, I was the one telling people about a double homicide. It stopped before a third.
Wednesday wasn’t the same in the office. I’d taken a few days off to write the article at home, and then a few extra keep my mind from spilling over with everything that had happened.
Yvonne and Howard cornered me in the kitchen. I’d completely bypassed Jeannie and her one-hundred thousand questions, but of course, I had to speak with my colleagues.
“So brave,” Yvonne said.
“Can’t believe you got face-to-face with them,” Howard said, shuddering.
They both smiled with full-tooth grins.
“Thank you.”
“You know, Suzanne’s been doing nothing but moan,” Yvonne chuckled. “Can’t believe you were front page.”
Howard slapped his hands together. “Anything you left out? Anything they didn’t let you publish?”
There wasn’t. They let me tell the story as it was. “Well, it was different from what I’m used to writing.”
A loud scoff huffed from the door of the kitchenette. “Welcome back,” Suzanne said. “Wondered where everyone got to. Diane’s already paced the floor outside the desks twice. Think she’s looking for you.” She nodded at me.
“Oh?”
I hadn’t seen Diane since Sunday when she came by the house to visit and collect the article in person. It went to press the Monday, and everyone, including my mother and sister had their edition—I was getting mine framed.
I approached my desk with a coffee in hand and a smile on my face. Charlie shuffled in his bed. He’d been taken for a lot of walks recently, and back in the office, he was taking his respite.
Before I could sit, Diane snapped her fingers at me from her office door.
Her unmoving face, the features set in stone from years of Botox.
“Yes?” I asked, glancing around the office to see others watching the interaction.
“Can I have a word?”
I nodded, leaving my desk to join her.
A wide smile greeted me once I closed the door in her office.
“You’ve done it,” she said, sitting at her desk.
“What?” I asked.
Exhaling deeply, she broke eye contact and looked at a number of different papers on her desk, mixing them around. “I’ve had papers ringing me all morning,” she said. “They’re trying to poach you.”
The smile on my face grew. There was no hiding the excitement. “Well, I’m loyal to the magazine.”
“And I think you should take it,” she said
“What?”
She repeated what she’d said.
And I reiterated my question.
“Well, Patrick owns one of the national papers, and they’ve been looking for someone to take on the role of writing real hit pieces.”
“Hit pieces?” I asked, lowering myself into the seat at the desk. “I’m a bit too old now to be going around writing hit pieces.”
Her face turned, a scowl forming. “I thought you wanted more out of your career.”
“I did,” I said. “I’ve had a successful career, and I enjoy what I do. I love writing about the experiences in the local area.”
“It’s triple your current pay.”
Stumped. A job where I earned more money.
I didn’t need it.
“You could work from home.”
I liked coming into work.
“And you’d get to write whatever you wanted, you’d get to explore your curiosities.”
I liked that. I always wanted to investigate, it’s part of why I took to looking into who killed Gilbert. The strong fascination of it happening on my doorstep, mixed with curiosity.
“So? What do you say?” she asked. “More money, more freedom. Will you take the job?”
TO BE CONTINUED
BOOK TWO
MURDER ON RED ROSE DRIVE
From Hugo James King
Thank you for reading Murder on Silver Lake, my debut book. I have much more to come from the small village of Silver Lake and the neighbouring town of Briarbury. Evelyn, alongside rescue dog Charlie, and best friend Ruth, have many more stories penned for arrival in the near future.
Silver Lake is somewhat based around an area I lived in for a while, a quiet and rural place, but beneath the surface my mind worked wonders to create narrative and back stories.
I hope you’ll continue and follow me down this rabbit hole.
Let’s see where the journey takes us.
Best wishes,
Hugo
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The Silver Lake Cozy Mystery Series
The second book in the series has a cover and a blurb. You can see and read about the second book below. We’re going to explore more of what Evelyn Green is about, and her new-found thirst for investigative journalism. Who said you can’t take a career change in your fifties?
MURDER ON RED ROSE DRIVE
&n
bsp; BLURB
Love is in the air. A body on the ground.
The red rose dealer of Silver Lake is dead.
Every Valentine’s day, business blooms in the Cotswolds.
And death is bad for business.
An accident or murder?
Will you come out smelling of roses?
Coming Soon
Follow Hugo James King on Amazon.
About HUGO JAMES KING
HUGO JAMES KING
Always a storyteller.
Always a curious mind.
He grew up surrounded by farms and rolling hills.
He now lives in the North West of England.
Dependant of two: a white Japanese Akita and a ginger Bengal cat.
A consumer of supermarket-brand coffee and a creator of large-dish lasagnes.