TODAY, OUR TEAM MEMBER, AUTHOR DAVID W THOMPSON, IS SHARING CHAPTER ONE OF HIS NOVEL, 'LOVE IN THE CROSSHAIRS' - Book 3 of The Emma Love Mystery series. #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat
Love In the Crosshairs, An Emma Love Mystery (#3)
Chapter One
A chilled mist wet my cheeks, sending a shiver down my back. I squinted against the dense fog. The clouded sun cast a blurred reflection on the mirrored waters. My arms still ached from Friday’s journey here to my friend Cathy Grimes’ farm. A school of bull minnows broke the water’s surface in front of me and churned their way in the direction of the campsite. Kayaking on Briton’s Bay in the late fall was one of my favorite pastimes, even on brisk mornings like this one.
I’d dreamt of this fall adventure for months, hoping to explore the hidden coves and secret inlets that swirled with local lore, with no other commitments weighing me down.
I needed the morning solitude after the sleepless night before. It wasn’t the old ghost stories Gwen started that troubled my sleep, but the tale of an old and forgotten real-life murder committed behind the very beach where we made our camp.
The small town of Newtowne prided itself on its tranquil charm, where the most scandalous event was usually a bake sale gone awry, or that prominent attorney caught spotlighting deer last season. How was it that an unsolved murder mystery escaped my notice?
“Of course you’d know about it, Sam. It’s part of your department’s unsolved cold case files,” I told my on again, off again boyfriend Deputy Sheriff Sam Mattingley.
“And I’m sure I know why you and Daniel have not heard of it, too, Emma. Family honor, reputation—” Sam began.
“What does that mean?”
Sam rubbed the day-old stubble on his chin and his left eyebrow shot up when he answered. ”I mean it wasn’t something your family would be discussing at Sunday dinner. Your grandfather was the number one suspect at the time, Emma, but nothing was ever proven,. It was during the same time that he was grabbing up a lot of land locally. Some say it was less than honestly—"
“Sour grapes from jealous townies it sounds like to me. Old Franklin Love was an accomplished investor,” Daniel added.
The conversation echoed in my mind as I approached our camp. Pulling the kayak up on the bank, I smiled to see the three lumps that were my companions still cocooned in their sleeping bags.
‘Wake up, sleepy heads,” I yelled.
There were murmurs of discontent from all before Daniel poked his head out.
“ Emma? What time is it? Didn’t you advertise this as a relaxing retreat? The only reason I came along is life’s been so stressful the last few weeks and I needed it.”
“Sorry, brother, but it is half past eight in the morning. Alicia is expecting you back this evening and I’m sure Nana has been a handful for her being all alone with her. You wake Gwen up and I’ll get Sam stirring before I start some breakfast. I’ll bet Cathy is down soon to check on us.”
Breakfast was an uncomplicated affair. Eggs scrambled hard and venison sausage cooked over an open fire with tongue searing instant coffee to wash it all down. Sam said it was like Army coffee; you had to chew as you swallowed. It was about as basic as a meal could be and tasted as fine as that served in any three-star Michelin restaurant.
“This was my first time camping,” Gwen said. “You and Daniel seem to be old hands at it though.”
“Our father got us started young. He was a big fan of the outdoors,” Daniel answered. “In Daniel Senior’s honor, Gwen and I are going for a morning nature walk. We won’t be long.”
Gwen dragged herself out of the beach chair and made a comment about not being a morning person. Despite that, she followed Daniel, hand-in-hand, into the woods behind the camp.
“I remember you talking about camping in school, Emma.…way back when we had to write those ‘what we did over the summer’ essays. Remember those early years in school? There were so few of us that they threw several grades in together? I asked my dad if we could go camping sometime and he said I was too young to go camping.”
“Too young, Sam? Too young to camp?” I asked. “Not in my family. I think the benchmark was as soon as we were able to go all day without wearing a diaper.“
“Hello, the camp!” A woman’s voice reached through the tree line.
“Cathy? Down here on the sandy bank.”
“I see you found the spot I described to you.”
“It’s been perfect, Cathy,” I said. “Thank you so much for sharing your piece of heaven with us.”
“What else are friends for?” Cathy asked. “Did you catch any perch, or better yet, any crabs?”
“Enough to make the pot stink as my uncle used to say. Nothing is as good as fresh seafood cooked at the water’s edge.”
“Wonderful. I’m glad you and Sam enjoyed yourselves,” she said, but as she looked beyond me, her eyes darkened and her lips drew into a straight line.
I turned to follow her gaze as Daniel and Gwen emerged from the woods.
Daniel waved a greeting. “I was just showing Gwen the old eagle’s nest in that huge hickory tree that I spotted yesterday afternoon. It is deserted, of course, but still pretty cool.”
I knew exactly what tree he was referring to. After lunch yesterday, I’d taken a hike in the woods behind the camp. I saw the tree standing alone, a monarch of the forest. Its regal bearing demanded respect or even devotion like a primal priestess. Its muscled branches swept wide, long arms low to the trail, reaching out to embrace its followers or capture the undeserving penitents who dared to draw near. I was one who dared, yet when I approached it, there was a feeling of unease…darkness. My vision swirled in a kaleidoscope of images, and I fell to my knees.
“Old evil here. This place isn’t for you,” a voice that could’ve been my sister Maya’s. Maya, my big sister who drowned when I was only a child. Had her spirit led Daniel there? Gwen’s voice snapped me back to the present.
“Don’t forget the fox’s den,” Gwen added. “Damn things kept me awake a good part of the night with their yapping. I don’t think they liked us invading their territory."
“I imagine not,” Cathy said.
“Hello, you’re Miss Cathy Grimes, right?” Daniel asked. “I’m Daniel Love and this is my wife Gwen.” He held out his hand to her.
Cathy’s expression didn’t change and her hand remained at her side. She gave a short nod. “Mr. and Mrs. Love.“
She turned back toward me, away from Daniel. “Do you think we could get together after you get home, Emma? I’d like to talk to you, and I’d love to have one more float with you before Mother Nature shuts us down for the year.”
“Yes. The end of kayaking season marks the beginning of my work tracking cheating spouses, lost pets, and teenage vandals. I can’t understand why my PI business picks up so much when the temperature dips. Maybe it’s being couped up inside for so long? Or maybe folks are less observant or more paranoid in the warmer months? But I’ll look forward to your call.”
“I’ll see you then. Goodbye, Sam. And, for future reference, Mr. Love, it’s Mrs. Grimes.”
Cathy turned to walk up the hill toward her home. She stopped and turned back to the campers.
“That old hickory tree? That’s where they found my grandfather hanged fifty-two years ago.” She said and walked away.
“Is she always so unpleasant?” Daniel asked.
“Not at all. Just the opposite, I’d say. We have gotten close these past few months, and her son Crab is a great kid,” I said. “Have you and Cathy met before, Daniel?”
“Not that I recall. You, Gwen?”
“I may have seen her before, in the grocery store or something, but if so, it wasn’t memorable.”
“Maybe Daniel reminds her of someone from her past. I don’t think Cathy had the easiest life,” Sam said.
“Ah, so what does our Deputy Sam Mattingley know about our benefactor, Mrs. Grimes? Spill the beans, Sam?”
“Nothing big, Daniel, and I’m no gossip. Besides, I think we better get a move on if we’re getting back at the appointed time. Nana will have poor Alicia in knots.”
***
The trip home seemed to strain our endurance. Unlike the leisure strokes enroute to the adventure, on this float our paddles slogged through the water as if dreading the inevitable return to real life. But the water was calm, and the gentle incoming tide helped push the small crafts along.
“I can see my kayak ramp ahead,” I sighed. “In ten minutes, our mini vacation will be over and it’s back to the same old grind.”
“Why don’t you and Sam come to dinner tonight, Emma? That way we can savor the last of the long weekend together.”
I noticed Sam’s slight nod. “We’d love to, Gwen. What time?”
“What works for you guys? I’m thinking pizza or carryout from that seafood place Sam is always raving about, so no slaving over a hot stove is involved. Easy-peasy. How does six o’clock sound?”
“That’s perfect. It will give us time to stow the kayaks, freshen up and chill out for a bit.”
When the ramp drew near, we pulled the kayaks up one at a time. I led the way to assist the other less experienced paddlers exiting the water. The men followed me, with Gwen bringing up the rear.
“Paddle in closer, Gwen. It’s high tide and the ramp doesn’t go all the…”
Gwen didn’t wait for further instruction. She slid out of her kayak and sank out of sight. She shot up laughing, shoulder-deep in the bay waters and waded toward us.
“I’m glad I didn’t take that dip this morning. It has warmed up, but the water is still cold.”
When she waded closer, Daniel held out his hand, and Gwen reached out to take it.
“Wait, Daniel. There’s something caught on my foot.” She bent over, squinted her eyes, then laughed. “Emma, have you been throwing your old shoes over the bank in the water?”
Gwen reached down and grabbed the offending footwear and pulled it toward the surface.
‘Emma, what…,” then she dropped what she was holding and screamed. Not a ‘was that a mouse?’ scream and perhaps one octave below a ‘my world has ended’ shriek.
“Gwen, my God, what is it?”
“It’s a body, Sam.”
**********
Blurb:
Emma Love’s new case involves another cheating spouse. The type of case she hates. Cases that destroy families. Before she can begin, a murder lands at her doorstep, and her infidelity case aligns with the recent murder and another killing that is fifty years in the past. Did that old murder involve her family, as the local gossips contend?
A psychiatric patient, a Nana suffering with dementia, a middle schooler, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, and a voice from the grave all help with clues. But when an old enemy resurfaces, Emma finds herself in mortal danger.
Can she pull the right thread to solve the cases when nobody is who they seem? The honesty and loyalty of old friends are called into question. Can anyone be trusted? Who will be next?
AUTHOR BIO:
D.W. Thompson is the pen name of award-winning author David W. Thompson in the mystery genre. As a multi-genre author, he's accepted membership in the Horror Writer's Association, The Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association, and the Mystery Writers of America. David lives in picturesque Southern Maryland with nearby family and dear old friends. (You can read his paranormal tales and historical fiction listed under David W. Thompson and Paranormal Romance under Davina Guy). When he isn't writing, Dave enjoys time with his family, kayaking (flat water, please), fishing, hiking, archery, gardening, wine-making, and pursuing his other "creative passion"- woodcarving.
Social Media:
David W. Thompson, Author. Member HWA, SFWA & MWA
NOVELS:
Legends of the Family Dyer Trilogy:
I) Sister Witch: The Life of Moll Dyer- 1st place Magical Realism Critters Readers Poll 2017, Golden Quill Award Best Book of 2018, Readers' Favorite Finalist Historical Person Category 2018, eBook Selection New Apple Awards 2018
II) His Father's Blood- Readers' Favorite Silver Medal Urban Fantasy 2019, Literary Titan Award (2018), Readers' Favorite Silver Medal Paranormal Fantasy 2021, International Book Awards Finalist Horror 2021
III) Sons and Brothers- 1st Place Magical Realism Critters Readers' Poll
Julianna's Choice (as Davina Guy (Paranormal Romance))
The Mystery at Love's Manor (An Emma Love Mystery)
Love Floats (An Emma Love Mystery 1st Place Mystery Readers Poll)
NOVELLAS
Call of the Falconer (Dystopian Novella)
Haunted Southern Maryland (Paranormal History)
Haunted Potomac River Valley (Paranormal History)
SHORT STORIES
'Possum Stew (Short Story Collection)- American Writing Awards 1st Place Anthologies, Finalist Chanticleer Awards Paranormal Fiction, Firebird Book Award for Best Anthology
What If #2 (Anthology GBB Authors)
What If #3 (Anthology GBB Authors)
What If #4 (Anthology GBB Authors)
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COMING SOON: ON Wednesday, 11th November, we are thrilled to welcome poet and author, Linda Martin, who is sharing details of her three poetry books.
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