Murder at the Lighthouse: An Exham on Sea Cosy Mystery (Exham on Sea Cosy Crime Mysteries Book 1) Read Online Free

yesterday.”
    Libby pulled out a chair and eased on to it. She’d had just such a stupid row with Trevor. They argued―shouted―about nothing, and she threw his dinner in the bin. He cracked the TV remote control against her shoulder, all his strength behind the blow. His face, contorted with fury, sometimes appeared in Libby’s dreams. She’d been terrified he’d hurt the children.
    “Mandy.” She took a moment to control her voice. “Mandy, if your mother won’t do anything about it, then you should leave the house. You’re old enough.”
    Mandy bent over the saucepan. “I think the sugar’s ready to boil.”
    Libby handed over the sugar thermometer. “Think about it. I’ve got spare beds at my house if you need them.”
    Mandy sniffed and rubbed her nose, but said no more. Libby let it go. The girl had to make up her own mind.
    The doorbell tinkled. Libby left Mandy at the hob, watching water boil in the pan, and stepped into the shop, pulling on a pair of clean white gloves. “Can I help you?”
    Tall, grey-haired, a little older than Libby, and dressed in a long blue overcoat, the new arrival smiled. “Good morning.”
    Libby stared. “It’s you. The man with the dangerous dog.”
    “So it is. We seem to have got off to a bad start.”
    “I should say so.”
    He grinned. “I gave Bear a good talking to before I handed him back to Mrs Thomson.”
    Libby’s lips twitched. “Quite right. He needs to learn to behave. Fuzzy’s a bit of a menace, of course.”
    “Well, to be honest, I liked the look of Fuzzy. I admire a cat that stands up for itself. Bear doesn’t agree.”
    Libby looked at the blue eyes. Yes, definitely familiar. Where else had she seen them? “Did you want a sandwich? Or cake?”
    “Just a ham salad baguette, please.” He patted his middle. “Have to watch the weight, these days.”
    Mandy arrived from the kitchen. She’d redone her mascara. “The frosting’s ready, Libby.” She stopped. “Hello, Mr Ramshore.”
    Libby looked from one to the other. “Ramshore. Like the detective sergeant?”
    He smiled. “My son.”
     

Coffee and Suspicion
    This new Ramshore’s first name turned out to be Max. “My parents were Norwegian.” That explained the blue eyes.
    Libby chose a table in a corner of the coffee shop, while he bought two lattes. “I thought I owed you a cup of coffee. I wasn’t too gracious, earlier. Bear is much too big and loud.”
    “What breed is he?”
    “Carpathian Sheepdog. Very gentle, like many big dogs, but he needs an incredible amount of exercise. He belongs to my neighbour, Mrs Thomson, really. Her husband kept him on the farm, but old Eric had to go into a care home before he died―dementia, I’m afraid. I bought the farm and I look after Bear when he gets too much for Mrs T. Which is quite often. She still lives in the old farmhouse down the lane from me.”
    “Well, anyway.” Libby wasn’t ready to forgive him, or Bear, completely. Besides, she was suspicious. “Did you know I worked in the bakery? I’m sure you didn’t just happen to walk in today.”
    “No, to be honest, my son told me about you.”
    “The detective sergeant himself? What did he say?” She glared. “Aren’t the police supposed to keep things confidential?”
    “He just suggested I look out for you, on my marathon Bear-walk this morning. He thought you might be upset, after that business on the beach. Then, you had your little accident.”
    “Caused by Bear.”
    “And Fuzzy.” His eyes twinkled. “I can see we’re not going to agree on that. Anyway, I felt bad, so I asked one of your neighbours where you might be going. It’s a small town, you know.”
    “You can say that again.” Where did looking out for each other stop and nosiness begin? “Have you always lived here?”
    He nodded. “I went to school with Susie Bennett, you know. She wasn’t in my year, she’s a couple of years younger, but I knew her.” Libby waited for the inevitable slur on