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A Forgotten Murder (Medlar Mystery 3)

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Kate laughed. “Should we draw straws? Loser gets the hated Clive.”

“As long as Jack doesn’t get Byon. We may never see him again. Speaking of whom, where did he run off to when Nadine drove up in her I-am-rich car?”

“No idea. Probably off to see Puck.”

“And her giant bathtub,” Sara said.

“With the ghost things in it?”

Sara’s eyes widened. “Puck said that house was boarded up. But her ladyship knew about the bathtub in it.”

“How interesting,” Kate said. “And Sean used to skulk about in the cemetery.”

“And the queen was...?”

“In the bathtub?” Kate was smiling.

Sara grinned. “She thinks she told me nothing, but she may have told me something very big.”

“And yet again, Sara Medlar dines on the living carcass of a suspect.”

Sara’s burst of laughter reverberated through the old room.

Nine

Jack was in the loft of the stables when the ladder crashed to the floor. He thought he heard footsteps but maybe it was just rats. In the back room, he’d found a bag of oats with a hole in the bottom. The loft was one big room with closed doors to the outside, where hay could be loaded. There were still some old harnesses lying about, but it was mostly empty, and the space covered the entire stable.

He was on his belly, looking over the edge and trying to figure out how to get down without breaking any bones when he saw the woman enter through a side door. From the overhead angle, he recognized her from her clothes more than her face. As Sara said, “Simple costs a lot of money.” In that case, her black-and-white outfit cost as much as his new truck.

He opened his mouth to call out and ask if she’d mind putting the ladder back up, but she didn’t stop and look around. Instead, she made a beeline toward the back of the building. She was walking so fast it was as though she was being chased.

He watched her until she was out of his view, then silently made his way to the next opening. It was covered by a flat, hinged door that was shut. She was directly below him and he wanted to see what she was doing.

Knowing that the hinges were probably as rusty as at the chapel, he lifted the door as slowly as possible. She was in what used to be the office and she was running her hands over the bricks of the wall. She seemed to be searching for something.

She moved farther down, out of his view. Jack leaned forward and lifted the door another inch.

The rusty creak seemed to echo through the empty stable. He drew in his breath, hoping she hadn’t heard. But she had. She made a leap to the side and looked up. “What are you doing up there?” she demanded.

Jack lifted the door and looked down. “Sorry, I—”

He didn’t finish because at the sight of him, the woman’s eyes rolled back in her head. Her body went limp, and she sank to the floor. She’d fainted.

Jack didn’t take time to think but threw the door back. As he grabbed the side of the opening, the door slammed down and the corner hit his forehead. He could feel the cut but he didn’t hesitate as he swung down. The ceiling in the office was about eight feet high so he had less than two feet to go down. He let go, hit the concrete floor hard and jumped up instantly.

He tried to revive the woman but she was out completely. She was light enough that he had no problem picking her up. There was no furniture inside, so he carried her outside. To the left was a shade tree and nearby was a horse trough. A water spigot was beside it.

He put the woman down, leaned her against the tree and went to the faucet. There was nothing to hold water. He took off his shirt, wet a sleeve and went back to her. Using the wet fabric as a cold compress, he pressed it to her forehead, but she didn’t respond. He cursed himself for not having his phone with him. Should he leave her to get the utility truck to drive her back to the house? Then call an ambulance?

When she turned her head to the side, he let out his breath in relief. “You’re okay,” he said softly. “You just fainted.”

She didn’t open her eyes. “Who are you?” she whispered.

“Jack Wyatt.”

She kept her eyes closed. It was almost like she was afraid to look at him. “I’m Nadine.”

Jack moved to sit beside her, placing his shirt across his lap. The sun felt good on his bare skin.



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