Murder on the Tor: An Exham on Sea Cosy Mystery (Exham on Sea Cosy Crime Mysteries Book 3) by Frances Evesham Read Free Book Online Page B

She’d suggested he cared, just because they went to the exhibition in his posh Jaguar.
    Libby pulled a map out of the pocket of the car door and pretended to study the route to High Down, letting her flaming cheeks cool. “Let me think about it, Max. The chocolate business is just beginning to take off, and I’ve asked Mandy to do a proper apprenticeship. When that’s going well, maybe...”
    “Let’s face it,” he went on, “we’re already working together. Why not make it official? You know, business cards, a website and a bit of mouth to mouth advertising. That’s all I’m suggesting.”
    “But what happens if we’re in the middle of an investigation, and you suddenly disappear to South America on some secret government work? How can I trust you, when you keep things from me?” Max turned and stared.
    Libby grabbed the wheel. “Look where you’re going.”
    “I’m not the one who runs the car into the ditch.”
    “I’ve only done it once. Don’t change the subject. The point is, how can I work with a partner who takes off without a word and never tells me where he’s going?”
    Max let the silence draw on. When he spoke again, he sounded thoughtful. “I suppose you’ve got a point, but I won’t be doing government work for ever.” Libby swallowed hard, battling to keep her breathing steady as Max pulled through a gate and drove along a rutted path towards the cliffs. As the car drew to a halt, Bear and Shipley whined and drooled with excitement. Max jumped out, threw open the doors and shooed the dogs onto the Downs, where the first few drops of rain heralded Marina’s promised rainstorm.
    ***
    The rain drove hard across High Down, but neither of the dogs cared a jot. Libby pulled up the hood of her new parka, zipped the collar and strode on, enjoying the rain against her face. In London, she’d carried an umbrella at all times, terrified of a sudden storm causing her unruly hair to frizz, but she’d learned to love a good downpour. To her surprise, Max took her arm. “Sorry if I upset you,” he murmured.
    “You didn’t,” she lied, startled.
    He squeezed her arm. “Come on, let’s look round the old fort.”
    For half an hour, they explored the ruined buildings. Shipley raced in and out of the wartime pillbox while Bear investigated interesting holes in the ground and chased imaginary rabbits. “The rain’s getting worse,” Max pointed out. “Maybe we should go. Am I really invited to this sticky chicken dinner, tonight, or have I blown my chances?”
    A sudden burst of barking interrupted him. Bear hovered at the edge of the cliff. “Can you smell another rabbit?” Libby waded through mud puddles on the path. As she reached the edge of the cliff, Shipley appeared, to see what Bear was doing. He brushed past Libby, just as she raised a foot to step over another puddle. Caught off balance, she tripped and fell, rolling down the steep slope, scrabbling to clutch at grass stalks.
    “Libby!” Max was too far away to help as Libby slid over the edge of the cliff. After a long moment, she landed with a thud that squeezed every ounce of air from her lungs. Her head connected with something hard. So that’s what it means to see stars. For a moment, lights swirled in front of her eyes, before darkness descended.
    ***
    She opened her eyes. A wide ledge, a few feet down the cliff face, had broken her fall. Max was at the cliff edge, looking down, horror etched on every line of his face. “Libby,” he called. “Can you hear me? Are you OK?”
    Libby tried to lift her right hand, but it wouldn’t move. Her wrist seemed to twist at an odd angle, and it ached. She tried her left hand, relieved to find it uninjured. She waved. Max called, “I’m on my way. I’ll get a rope from the car.”
    “No, don’t come. You’ll fall too.” As she shouted, Bear jumped down from the top of the cliff and licked Libby’s face. “Get off, Bear. I’m quite all right.” She lifted her head and