Author: | Caron Allan | ISBN: | 9781386582700 |
Publisher: | Caron Allan | Publication: | April 28, 2018 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | Caron Allan |
ISBN: | 9781386582700 |
Publisher: | Caron Allan |
Publication: | April 28, 2018 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella
After the funeral of her friend and mentor Mrs Carmichael, Dottie Manderson is sent on a mission to find the dead woman's missing son and to inform him of the death of a mother he never knew. Meanwhile, Dottie's close friend Inspector William Hardy has also been sent on a mission, but it is one that will force him to confront his past. After some hectic months in his new role, will there ever be time for romance in the Inspector's life?
Extract from Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella:
Lower Bar, Scotland, May 1934
Anna McHugh glared through the prison bars at the sprawling body. When the figure did not immediately acknowledge her presence, she aimed a kick through the bars at the foot hanging off the end of the narrow cot.
'Hey, idiot! I haven't got all day to wait around for you, so let's get going.'
The figure on the cot stretched and yawned in a leisurely manner, as if awaking from a deep refreshing sleep. He got to his feet and gave her what he clearly believed was a cheeky smile, but she glared at him again and turned on her heels. 'If you're no' in the street in one minute, you'll have to walk back.' She returned to the waiting area at the front of the police station, saying to the officer behind the desk, 'He's ready to leave now, if that's all right.'
The police officer gave her a grin as he turned to fetch the keys out of a cupboard behind him. 'Just out the three days, isn't it? I know you said he was at home with you all night. But we all know it was him what took that deer from Barr Hall. And the laird is also a very good friend of the Procurator. So maybe try and keep your man home at night, m'dear, if you don't want him to go straight back to prison, this time for a wee bit longer.'
She watched him go through to unlock the cell door. 'He's no my man,' she said softly. Her man was at home, behind the bar of his public house, and he would be ready with his belt when he heard she'd given William Hardy an alibi for the previous night. Her heart felt heavy, she dreaded going home. But what else could she do? She couldn't let Will go back to jail for the one crime he hadn't committed. She went out into the sunshine to the little car she'd borrowed from the pub.
It seemed everything she did for Will got her into trouble. How could he have given up her name like that, even to get himself out of a tight spot? Surely he knew by now the price she would pay for that? Her mind whispered that her mother would have said a gentleman never betrayed a lady's confidence. But William Hardy was no gentleman, and she doubted he would say she was a lady, either. Why did she let him do this to her? If she could only get him out of her life—and her heart—perhaps her husband wouldn't find so much fault in her. Which would mean far fewer bruises.
She sat behind the wheel, waiting. And waiting. She told herself she'd just give him another minute, then it became two more, and then another five. Finally after almost fifteen minutes the man came out, swaggering as he came, proud as punch of his exploits. Along the street someone cheered, and Will raised his fist in a gesture of triumph. Anna sighed. How was another night in the cells anything to be proud of?
(end of extract)
Buy Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella now to see if Dottie and William will finally have their special moment, or is mystery and intrigue always doomed to get in the way.
Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella
After the funeral of her friend and mentor Mrs Carmichael, Dottie Manderson is sent on a mission to find the dead woman's missing son and to inform him of the death of a mother he never knew. Meanwhile, Dottie's close friend Inspector William Hardy has also been sent on a mission, but it is one that will force him to confront his past. After some hectic months in his new role, will there ever be time for romance in the Inspector's life?
Extract from Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella:
Lower Bar, Scotland, May 1934
Anna McHugh glared through the prison bars at the sprawling body. When the figure did not immediately acknowledge her presence, she aimed a kick through the bars at the foot hanging off the end of the narrow cot.
'Hey, idiot! I haven't got all day to wait around for you, so let's get going.'
The figure on the cot stretched and yawned in a leisurely manner, as if awaking from a deep refreshing sleep. He got to his feet and gave her what he clearly believed was a cheeky smile, but she glared at him again and turned on her heels. 'If you're no' in the street in one minute, you'll have to walk back.' She returned to the waiting area at the front of the police station, saying to the officer behind the desk, 'He's ready to leave now, if that's all right.'
The police officer gave her a grin as he turned to fetch the keys out of a cupboard behind him. 'Just out the three days, isn't it? I know you said he was at home with you all night. But we all know it was him what took that deer from Barr Hall. And the laird is also a very good friend of the Procurator. So maybe try and keep your man home at night, m'dear, if you don't want him to go straight back to prison, this time for a wee bit longer.'
She watched him go through to unlock the cell door. 'He's no my man,' she said softly. Her man was at home, behind the bar of his public house, and he would be ready with his belt when he heard she'd given William Hardy an alibi for the previous night. Her heart felt heavy, she dreaded going home. But what else could she do? She couldn't let Will go back to jail for the one crime he hadn't committed. She went out into the sunshine to the little car she'd borrowed from the pub.
It seemed everything she did for Will got her into trouble. How could he have given up her name like that, even to get himself out of a tight spot? Surely he knew by now the price she would pay for that? Her mind whispered that her mother would have said a gentleman never betrayed a lady's confidence. But William Hardy was no gentleman, and she doubted he would say she was a lady, either. Why did she let him do this to her? If she could only get him out of her life—and her heart—perhaps her husband wouldn't find so much fault in her. Which would mean far fewer bruises.
She sat behind the wheel, waiting. And waiting. She told herself she'd just give him another minute, then it became two more, and then another five. Finally after almost fifteen minutes the man came out, swaggering as he came, proud as punch of his exploits. Along the street someone cheered, and Will raised his fist in a gesture of triumph. Anna sighed. How was another night in the cells anything to be proud of?
(end of extract)
Buy Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella now to see if Dottie and William will finally have their special moment, or is mystery and intrigue always doomed to get in the way.