Deadly Clementine

Moss puffed out his cheeks.

“Look, this village needs your help. If it didn’t, I would have sent her to you,” the Captain reasoned.

“I know.”

“Have you been to Mrs McGaffney’s place yet?”

Moss shook his head. “I am going to check in with Mrs Marks before I engage myself in this investigation any further. There are a few things I need to sort out so won’t be back for a day or so. I will return as soon as I can and will have a look at the other empty properties then.”

“Let’s hope that the killer takes a day or two off then, shall we?” The Captain lifted his brows, touched his forehead, and ambled off.

Moss stared after him and knew then that he had quite cleverly given him a stark warning that dallying in this investigation was going to get people killed.

“Fine. I shall be on my way then, shall I?” Moss snorted sarcastically before, with a dour look after the Captain, he went in search of his horse.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The following day, Moss raced down the stairs and

walked straight into his office. He tried to forget just how exhausted he was. Last night had probably been the poorest night of sleep he had ever battled through in his life. He was tired, and so uncomfortable with the silence within his house that he wanted to claw at his own skin. He was restless, on edge, unsettled, as if something was missing.

“I miss her, damn it,” he growled.

Moss sighed when his gaze fell upon his morning’s post. Dropping his bag at his feet, he ambled over to the desk, and picked up the neatly wrapped package that awaited him.

“Moss, I hope you enjoy it, Clementine.” He eyed the somewhat youthful writing and shook his head in disbelief even though a smile curved his mouth. Curiously to know what she had sent him; Moss untied the string and peeled the paper back. “Now, what have you been up to? I don’t know how you got this to me this fast or why you bothered. I am coming back today.”

His brows rose when he opened the box and lifted out an aromatic fruit cake. He placed it on his desk and studied it for a moment while he eyed the box for any more notes or cards. Moss sighed when he found nothing but eyed the cake hungrily. He was curious to know what it tasted like, and so removed a flick-knife from his pocket and cut a large chunk off. Munching thoughtfully, he ambled over to the window and gazed sightlessly out of the window while he ate. His thoughts were locked on Clementine, where she was, what she was eating for breakfast, and how long it would take him to get back to her.

“I must stop doing that,” he muttered absently when he realised what he was doing. “I will get back to her when I can. Business has to come first, though, because people are dying.”

“I see you have found your post then, sir,” Mrs Marks said as she ambled into the room.

Moss nodded as he ate the cake in his mouth slowly, a little warily.

“Fruit cake for breakfast, sir?” Mrs Marks gasped looking scandalous.

“It’s – unusual.” Moss took a drink from the goblet of wine at his elbow only to choke when a particularly clingy part of the cake tickled the back of his throat. With a frown, he shook his head and sipped some more.

“What’s wrong?”

“The cake.” Moss put the rest of the large chunk back onto the desk and downed the rest of his wine before refilling it from the jug on the corner of his desk. “More please.”

“Should you be drinking so much of that so early?” Mrs Marks chided.

“I think I have to,” Moss choked. He coughed again and felt his stomach start to churn.

Mrs Marks ambled closer to get a better look at the cake. She shook her head when Moss offered to cut her a slice. “I can’t say I can stand fruit cake myself, sir. I must prefer a nice plain sponge.”

Moss had to concede he had never been a fan of fruit cake before either, and Clementine’s cake had done little to persuade him otherwise.

“I think I shall pretend I haven’t received her gift,” Moss muttered with a heavy frown.

“Would you like me to get you something else?” Mrs Marks asked.

“Yes, please, Mrs Marks.” Moss gasped before he started coughing again. “God, I need another drink.”

Unfortunately, the fruit cake and wine didn’t mix too well in his stomach, and Moss began to feel even sicker.