Murder on the Levels: An Exham on Sea Cosy Mystery (Exham on Sea Cosy Crime Mysteries Book 2) by Frances Evesham Read Free Book Online Page A

died, but no one else.”
    Mandy narrowed her eyes. “Kevin’s lived around here for ever, but Vince is new. Don’t know much about him, but maybe I can find out.”
    Libby folded the cloth and placed it neatly over the edge of the sink. She’d need to make sure Mandy didn’t run into danger. “Take it easy. We’re looking for a poisoner. A killer. I don’t want to have to tell your mother I put you in harm’s way. Just write down everything you know.”
    Mandy nodded, but there was something about the determined angle of her chin that worried Libby. She’d never forgive herself if Mandy ended up into trouble. “I mean it, Mandy. Take care.”
    “I can look after myself.”
    There wasn’t much more Libby could say. Mandy was stubborn, and a landlady couldn’t lock her lodger in the house. She left matters there, and set off in search of Marina. She was certain her friend had more information to give, if only Libby could pin her down long enough to drag it out.
    At least she knew where to find her. Marina had recently watched a Panorama programme and decided she needed to get fit. “Don’t want to die of high blood pressure, or heart disease, darling.” The difficulty seemed to be finding a regime that involved a minimum of exertion. Dismissing dieting, dog-walking and running as undignified and exhausting, Marina turned back to an old passion. She’d learned to ride horses at her expensive boarding school, alongside minor royalty. “At least I can ride sitting down,” she announced. “Far more comfortable.” Today, she’d be out at the stables, taking a quiet hack around the lanes.
    ***
    The drive took Libby over an hour. Why Marina travelled all the way to a tiny village near Shepton Mallet for her lessons, Libby had no idea, unless it was in the hope of meeting celebrity jockeys riding out on the gallops.
    A string of well-fed, mild-mannered horses puffed up a hill. Libby slowed. That had to be Marina bringing up the rear, in a luminous orange jacket. Libby drove round the corner, parked in sight of the stables, and settled down to wait. The open window let the country smells of hay and horse manure fill the car. Libby tried to decide whether she loved or hated them.
    The single file of horses clattered into the yard. They were huge―much bigger than Libby expected. She’d never before been within a hundred yards of a horse. She wasn’t letting those hooves anywhere near her feet.
    Plucking up courage, she left the safety of the Land Rover, hovering out of range, as stable hands led the horses into nearby stalls, and riders drifted away. Marina remained, her back turned to Libby, deep in conversation. Libby touched her friend’s shoulder. “Hello.”
    Marina swung round, mouth open. “Libby. What the―what are you doing here?” A crimson stain crept up her cheeks.
    Her companion was new to Libby. Heavily built, immaculate in full riding kit, his weather-beaten, fleshy face crowned by a shock of snow-white hair, he tapped a riding whip lightly against mud-splashed leather boots. Libby flashed her warmest smile. “Sorry to interrupt. I hoped I’d find you out here.”
    Marina swallowed, neck tendons working. Her eyes flickered to her companion and back. “Here I am. Taking riding lessons.”
    “It looks like fun.”
    The stranger turned full beam on Libby. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” His voice rumbled deep in his chest. “My name’s Wendlebury. Chesterton Wendlebury.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Pasta and spotted dick
    Chesterton Wendlebury secured the best table in the Monmouth Arms, near the wood fire, explained he had urgent business, and left. Marina had regained her dignity. “It’s not what you think.”
    Libby took a sip of orange juice and lemonade. “I wondered what brought on your sudden enthusiasm for horse-riding. Where did you meet superman?”
    Marina blushed. “We’re just friends. I bumped into him at one of the Round Table dinners.”
    “Which you were