Murder Most Remote Read online

  Murder Most Remote

  Waterfell Tweed Cozy Mystery Series: Book Four

  Mona Marple

  Copyright © 2018 by Mona Marple

  All rights 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, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For the writers who encouraged me to be a reader

  And the readers who encourage me to be a writer

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Thank You For Reading

  About the Author

  1

  The fire was intense, a ball of angry heat attacking her face as she climbed up the melting staircase to rescue more books.

  “Help!” She called, but her voice was lost in the flames.

  Another step gave way under her weight, causing her to hang from the wooden rail as the fire ebbed closer.

  Sandy woke with a jump, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes acclimatised to the cool dark of her bedroom. She choked back tears and forced herself to feel the welcome cold air on her body. She had tossed the sheets from the bed and only had her thin pyjamas to protect her from either the heat or the chill, depending on whether she was asleep or awake.

  As her heartbeat returned to normal, Sandy picked her phone up from the bedside table. Almost 5am. She stifled a yawn and climbed out of bed, her feet slipping straight into the expensive sheepskin slippers that Coral had bought for her last birthday. The soft curls of the wool enveloped her toes and pushed the nightmare further from the forefront of her mind.

  Her small suitcase sat empty by the bedroom door and from within it, two piercing green eyes watched her.

  “Oh cat!” She cursed as she rose to her feet. “I’ve told you not up here! Go on, get downstairs.”

  The green eyes continued to stare at her and she sighed in resignation. The still unnamed cat had quickly asserted itself to be in charge in her home.

  Sandy ignored the queasy feeling in her stomach, the aftermath of the nightmare, and dragged her weary body into a hot shower, where she forced herself to read the instructions on the back of the shampoo bottle to keep her thoughts in check.

  She spent longer than usual styling her hair in a bid to ignore the suitcase, and at exactly the time he had said, she heard Tom’s car pull up outside. She caught herself giving a wide grin towards the cat, who watched her with disdain from his new sitting place, her pillow.

  “A smile wouldn’t hurt you, you know.” She muttered. The cat was so dark and fluffy it was impossible to pick out his nose or mouth. Only his piercing eyes broke up the pure black of his coat. He was beautiful, Sandy had begun to tell people with pride.

  As she left the house, she glanced up at her bedroom window, but the cat wasn’t there. She shook her head at her idea that he may have been there to see her off to work.

  “What’s got into you?” Tom asked with a smile. He had reached over from the driver seat to open the passenger door for her.

  “I left the cat curled up in my bed. On my pillow even! I’m getting far too soft in my old age.” Sandy explained as she climbed into the car. “Thanks for picking me up.”

  Tom shrugged, his attention on the rear view mirror as he indicated to move off from the pavement. “You look beautiful. I like your hair like that.”

  “I had some extra time. I’ve been up hours.” Sandy explained.

  “Packing finally?” He asked.

  Sandy felt her cheeks flush. “Erm, no.”

  Tom glanced across at her as he waited for a red light to change. “The dream again?”

  She bit her lip as she nodded.

  “It’s going to be okay, you know?” Tom said. “I’m in the same boat, but we’ve both got good people who can manage fine without us in their way.”

  “I know.” Sandy said. “I just wonder if it’s a good idea.”

  “A whole shop’s stock for a bargain price, Sand, of course it’s a good idea.” Tom reminded her. She couldn’t argue with that. Books and Bakes was in desperate need of fresh book stock, and this was a rare opportunity to get a whole shop’s stock for an unbelievably low price.

  “I just have this feeling, this gut feeling…” Sandy began.

  “Vibes?” Tom asked with a smile.

  “No, I’ll leave the vibes to Dorie.” Sandy said with a laugh. “You’re right. I’m being silly, everything will be fine.”

  Tom nodded as he pulled up outside Books and Bakes. “Our first weekend away. It’s going to be better than fine.”

  Sandy allowed herself to relax and gave him a genuine smile as he planted a delicate kiss on her lips.

  “I’ll pick you up at 2, okay?”

  “Okay.” She agreed as she climbed out of the car.

  Books and Bakes was already open. She was showing her face only because she had insisted to Tom that she wanted to do one last check that everything was in order. He had wanted to set off first thing in the morning, and she knew that made more sense given the long drive they had ahead of them, but when he had realised how anxious she was about the time away, he had agreed that they each spend the morning on last jobs in their businesses before setting off.

  Tom had been packed for days and texted her several times each day with a countdown, in hours, of how long until they would set off. Sandy had ignored the suitcase since borrowing it from her sister, Coral.

  But she could put it off no longer.

  “Good morning, Sandy.” Dorie Slaughter called out as Sandy pushed open the door. Dorie, the cafe’s most loyal customer, was sitting alone as usual.

  “Just the woman, Dorie. Can I pick your brains?” Sandy asked.

  Dorie let out a tremendous sigh. “I guess I have a minute if you’re quick.”

  “I can ask someone else if you’re too busy.” Sandy said.

  “No, no, you’ll get the best information from me, don’t waste your time with anyone else. I can spare a minute.”

  Sandy smiled to herself. “What do you do when your gut is telling you something’s a bad idea?”

  The question surprised Dorie so much she almost choked on her tea. “That’s your question? You’ve interrupted my precious little quiet time to ask me that?”

  “Well, I…” Sandy began.

  “You listen to it, of course!” Dorie exclaimed with an eye roll.

  “It’s that simple?” Sandy asked.

  “Lord help me.” Dorie said, although her interest in religion seemed only to extend as far as church events that involved food, or the potential for gossip. “Yes, it’s that simple Sandy. Never, ever, ignore your gut.”

  Sandy gulped. “Ok. I guess that’s pretty clear then.”

  “What are you doing here?” Coral called from the counter, where she held a single cake stand, free from a cake on top. Her ability to carry more than a single object at a time hadn’t improved since she had joined Books and Bakes.

  “Nice to see you too.” Sandy quipped. “I wanted to check everything’s okay.”

  “We’ve told you all week, everything’s fine.” Coral replied. “Just go and enjoy yourself, sis.”

  “Fridays can be busy, maybe I can serve for a bit?” Sandy offered. Derrick had agreed, with some reluctance, to return
to the bookshop counter upstairs. While he preferred to be on his feet and active, he seemed incapable of refusing a request made by Sandy.

  “Sandy, we’re fine, get out of here!” Bernice scolded, emerging from the kitchen with a balance of cakes and brownies in her arms. “We all want to keep our jobs, and to do that, we need you up in Scotland buying new stock.”

  Sandy grimaced at the reminder of how uncertain jobs had been before she had extended the bookshop to occupy the upper floor.

  “Scotland, eh?” Dorie asked. “Lovely place. Never been, but I saw an antiques show up there once. Ooh, beautiful it was.”

  “It’s not a holiday.” Sandy blurted. “I’m looking at new stock.”

  “Driving all that way to look at books?” Dorie asked, her nose wrinkled with disapproval. As loyal as she was to the cafe part of Sandy’s business, she had no interest in literature. “Can’t you use your magic phones and thingy-ma-jigs to do that?”

  “Sometimes.” Sandy admitted. “They’re all in storage this time, though. I need to go up there and have a good look at them.”

  “Hmm.” Dorie grunted, her interest in the bookish conversation exhausted. “Think you’ll find any new recipes up there?”

  Bernice cleared her throat.

  “Not that the same old recipes every day aren’t nice.” Dorie said, shooting a syrupy sweet smile towards Bernice.

  “I’ll make sure I try out a Scottish cafe or two, in your honour.” Sandy agreed. She squeezed past Coral and stood behind the counter. Everything was tidy and in place. The cafe was almost full and several customers had books on their tables that they had either already paid for or would buy after they’d finished their food and drink.

  Things certainly looked in order.

  “It’s like watching a new mum leave their baby.” Bernice said with a shake of her head as she returned to the kitchen. Sandy followed her, although the spot check was unnecessary. Bernice brought a military attention to all she did, and her baking and managing of the Books and Bakes kitchen was no exception.

  “Are you sure you’re happy that I’m going?” Sandy asked as Bernice busied herself wiping down the counters.

  “What’s going on, Sandy?” Bernice asked. She turned to look at her employer, kitchen spray in one hand and a cloth in the other. “You’ve left us before without all of this. Are you nervous about going away with Tom?”

  Sandy shook her head. Although it would be the longest period of time spent with Tom, and their first time away from Waterfell Tweed together, Sandy was looking forward to that part of the trip. Their lives in the village were so busy, and so full of other people’s demands, both for her running Books and Bakes and for Tom as landlord of The Tweed public house, the idea of a weekend away as a couple made her feel warm and content inside.

  “Well, what is it? You can tell me, whatever it is.” Bernice coaxed.

  “I just have this feeling like I shouldn’t go.” Sandy said, with a shrug. “I can’t explain it.”

  Bernice gazed at her, her auburn hair pinned on top of her head and dusted with flour as always. She narrowed her eyes and the intensity of her stare made Sandy look away.

  “Well.” Bernice said after a few awkward seconds had passed. “The shop needs stock, and if you don’t want to get it, I guess I’ll have to.”

  “What?” Sandy asked, as Bernice placed the cloth and cleaning product on the counter and washed her hands.

  “I’ll go.” Bernice said. “Have you got the address?”

  “No!” Sandy exclaimed. The strength of her reaction surprised them both. Sandy couldn’t explain what she was feeling, but she knew that if someone had to make this trip, it had to be her. “No, no. I’m being silly. Sorry, Bernice, I don’t what’s come over me.”

  Bernice raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Love. That’s what’s come over you.”

  Sandy allowed herself a small smile as her cheeks flushed crimson.

  She said her goodbyes and left the shop. She would walk home, the fresh air would do her good. Coral had borrowed her car while hers was being repaired after a minor collision with a dry stone wall.

  She allowed the walk to clear her head, resisting the urge to put her headphones in and listen to music or a mystery audio book. She had little silence in her life and felt a need for some.

  When she returned home, she had just a few short hours to check which of her clothes were clean and pack for her weekend away. The cat was fast asleep in her bed, and Sandy noticed how he let out tiny, contented purrs as she worked quietly around him, collecting fleece jackets and walking boots, t-shirts and jeans. It was a practical wardrobe, designed to help convince her that she was indeed a practical woman.

  By the time Tom pulled up outside her cottage, her reaction was as much nerves as excitement.

  Because as much as she tried, she couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that she shouldn’t be going on the trip.

  That something bad lay in store.

  2

  “Have you been to Scotland before?” Sandy asked. They had been driving for four hours before they had stopped for dinner at a motorway service station. Sandy had tried not to show her disappointment at eating pre-packed sandwiches while Tom appeared to be just pleased for a break from the road.

  He shook his head, his mouth full of the chicken curry he had chosen from the hot food selection. A stale-looking naan bread sat untouched on his tray. He was ravenous, shoveling the curry and rice in his mouth from overflowing forkfuls without conversation. He looked at her then and gave a self-conscious smile. “Sorry, I’m starving.”

  “It’s ok. I’m sorry you’re doing all the driving.” She apologised.

  “Don’t be, I’m happy to be here as your chauffeur.”

  “You’re more than my chauffeur.” Sandy said, and she reached across the table and took his hand in hers. The gesture made him blush a little.

  “Even better.” He said with a grin, then noticed her uneaten sandwich. “Don’t you like it? Curry’s good.”

  “I’m a bit of a sandwich snob.” Sandy admitted. “One of the problems of working in the food business, I can spot cheap ingredients like a… sorry, I don’t want to put you off.”

  “I’d eat a dead horse to be honest, you won’t put me off.” Tom said. He tore the naan bread in half and used one half to mop up the remaining curry sauce, then bit a chunk of it and began to chew.

  Sandy sat back and took in the scene around them. Dozens of couples seeking a break from whatever journeys they were on were sat at tables drinking coffee and scrolling on smart phones. A group of workmen in hi-vis vests erupted into a burst of laughter from the fast food queue. A young mum with pristine make-up and a slender figure watched with glee as her baby walked across the seating area towards her, their tiny hands in the much bigger ones of a balding father.

  The mundanity of the scene felt intimate somehow. To be sat with a man she liked, taking a break from a long drive. It was so normal, so routine, and yet an experience she hadn’t shared in a long time.

  “You ok?” Tom asked. His plate was empty and he had just peeled a banana.

  She nodded, unsure how to explain the way she felt.

  “Let’s get back out there.” Tom said. He practically inhaled the banana and placed the peel on his plate, then pushed his chair back and stood up.

  As they walked back into the cold afternoon air of the car park, Tom took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

  **

  When they finally reached the Isle of Mull, Tom could barely keep his eyes open.

  “Let’s go and get a nap.” Sandy said as he stifled another enormous yawn.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” He said.

  “Tom. You’re exhausted. I’m not taking no for an answer on this.” She insisted. Tom glanced at her, his eyes small and red, and nodded his agreement.

  Sandy had booked a small bed and breakfast for them at a bargain price, and couldn’t believe that her last minute booking had been possible at
all. She had never seen a place as beautiful as Mull, with its dramatic landscape and quiet isolation.

  When they had checked in and been shown to their rooms, Tom disappeared into his room and Sandy sat by the window in her own. The view was out to the bay, where the sand was white enough to be Caribbean but the waves roared and crashed with force. Sandy pulled her opal cardigan further around her body without realising and allowed the time to pass watching the waves build and trying to guess which would make the biggest crash against the sand.

  The knock on her door some time later made her jump. The sky was growing a deep blue as night approached. She gave in to a yawn as she padded across the small room and opened the door.

  “Ready?” Tom asked. The sight of him made her grin. His face looked well-rested but his hair was stood at all angles, it’s usual neat appearance changed by the tossing and turning of his nap. “I’ve been texting you.”

  “Sorry!” Sandy said, gesturing to the inside of her room. “I sat in the windowsill to look at the view and never moved away. It’s so beautiful here.”

  Tom blushed. “My eyes were closed before I made it to the bed, so I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to put this off to the morning?” Sandy asked. She had arranged a late meeting time with the retired bookseller, who had been slow to agree to anything after normal business hours despite their long journey. Sandy had wondered how desperate he really was to sell the stock and was feeling apprehensive about the viewing. She couldn’t stand the thought that she may have subjected Tom to such a long drive for a wasted journey.

  “Nah, let’s get it done and then tomorrow’s ours.” Tom said. Sandy nodded. They had a full day to enjoy the island before heading back to Waterfell Tweed.