Stories Secrets and Missing at Sea (The Nord Isles Cozy Mystery Series) Read online

  Murder By The Beaches

  The Nord Isles Cozy Mystery Series

  Elizabeth M. Newby

  Contents

  The Nord Isles Cozy Mystery Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Preview of Murder By The Beaches

  A Letter From The Author

  Keep In Touch

  More From The Nord Isles Mystery Series

  The Nord Isles Cozy Mystery Series

  The Nord Isles are a fictional group of islands set off the coast snuggled in between North Wales, Ireland and the North West of England. Our protagonist, Cara, has been living on one of the islands called Bwytheney for fifteen years. She is a writer with a successful blog Nord Isle Living. She becomes the Nord Isles’ amateur sleuth almost by accident. Follow her and her trusty sidekick, Shadow the border collie as they solve mysteries on these islands.

  The first book, Murder on Bwytheney is available now and more in the series will follow very soon.

  Click here to get Book 1: Murder On Bwytheney

  Click here to get Book 2: Murder By The Beaches

  Keep In Touch

  To discover the latest news and be the first to hear when Elizabeth M. Newby releases new titles, sign up to the Nord Isles Newsletter here.

  Chapter 1

  I felt sick to my stomach. Why had I let anyone persuade me to do this? In less than a week my soul would be exposed to the world ready for ridicule. I enjoyed writing books but that didn’t mean I wanted them to be published. At least my crime fiction novel manuscripts were still safely hidden beneath my bed. This one was more for Beryl than me, but it was me that put pen to paper and poured forth. What if people hated it? Beryl was 83 and had lived on Bwytheney all her life and this book was about the island she knew. But it wasn’t the whole truth.

  You see, everyone has their secrets. It wasn’t something I used to believe. But the last few months have given me a different view on things. Behind the cupcakes, sandcastles and quiz nights, there’s a darker Bwytheney. Investigating the island’s mysteries was showing me that every family has skeletons in their closets and a past they were trying to escape. But living in such a close island community like Bwytheney made it impossible for these things to stay hidden. Long buried secrets in deep graves have a way of getting dug up when you least expect it. Many of the families have been living here for generations, stories whispered from grandmother to mother to child.

  Beryl knew more stories than anyone else. But, until now, she had kept them to herself. You see, her children weren’t interested in hearing the oral history of these isles. They simply rolled their eyes every time she tried to share one of her stories with them. But when she discovered I was a writer, she made me promise that I wouldn’t let the past die with her. However, not everything she told mewas for public consumption. There were salacious secrets and terrifying tales that could tear apart families and threaten the relative peace we enjoyed.

  But there were some that Beryl wanted everyone to hear. She was proud of the history and heritage of these islands, with its myths and traditions. It wasn’t without its own heroes too. It was these stories that we were sharing in a book that was being released in six days. The closer we got, the less I slept and the more convinced I was that I was about to walk into an ampitheatre complete with lion and gladiator.

  Bwytheney was lucky enough to have its own independent bookshop and for some reason, I had agreed that it would be a good idea to have a book launch event at the shop. If it wasn’t bad enough that everyone on the Nord Isles knew about it, something had possessed me to share it on my blog, Nord Isles Living. Now, every time I saw either Pam from the campsite, or Matthew at the bed and breakfast farmhouse, they would delight in telling me how busy they were with bookings from those looking forward to attending the book launch.

  I pushed open the door to Books & Words and inhaled the smell of the pages. Unlike most other bookshops, this one sold both new releases as well as second hand books. Many on the islands would pass along their previous reads to get sold on again. It was never something I could do and instead, my shelves bent under the strain of the books I piled up on them. Sat at one of the tables that usually displayed books was Beryl, signing copies of Stories of Bwytheney, ready for the launch night next Thursday.

  “There you are, Cara. Come on, love. We’ve got a lot of books to get signed. Did you know that all of these are pre-orders? Who would think so many people would want to read our stories, eh? Hello, Shadow, how are you?”

  Shadow was my welsh border collie and he had a soft spot for Beryl. It was probably the gravy bones she always seemed to have in her pocket. He sat next to her, tongue hanging out and tail waggling, waiting patiently. Sure enough, he was quickly rewarded with a treat which he ate before curling up on the floor.

  “They’re your stories, Beryl. I’ve simply helped you to get them on the page.”

  As always, she was immaculately dressed and her hair perfectly permed. This was all for her. That’s all I needed to remember when my nerves got the better of me. This was Beryl’s dream and the excitement of it all seemed to have given her a new lease of life. She was no longer just passing the days pottering around her house alone. Instead, there was a lightness about her and a new found energy as she spent more time in Islethorpe village. I sat down with pen poised for signing.

  “How are the nerves?” asked Beryl.

  I guessed I looked as green as I felt, then. “Terrible,” I said.

  “What are you worried about, love? You’re an incredible writer and my stories are pretty special, even if I do say so myself.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Rejection. Hate. Criticism. Something going wrong. Not being ready in time. I mean, what if I miss something important for the launch and I end up looking like a complete lemon? Or worse, what if I let you down or make you look a fool?”

  “Oh, hush now. What nonsense. You’ve been working on this launch for weeks. No one could possibly be more organised. And you could never let me down. I’m so grateful to you for making this happen. Who would think that in my eighties I could become a published author, eh? If only my parents could see. This kind of thing didn’t happen to people like us back then.”

  “Sausage rolls. I didn’t order sausage rolls. You can’t have a buffet without sausage rolls, right? Oh gosh, I need to let Emma know and hope she doesn’t get cross with me.”

  Shadow sat upright, ears pricked at the word, ‘sausage’. It was one of his favourite treats and for a moment he thought one might appear by magic. When he sniffed the air and established that there were none, he lay back down again in a half sulk.

  “Emma,” said Beryl, “breathe. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Yes. Yes, everything will be fine. I’m just going to pop into Emma’s café. I’ll be back in a minute to sign the rest.”

  Emma was one of my best friends and ran the Cupcake Café which was almost opposite the bookshop. She was providing the catering for the launch event and I knew she was already hard at work with making a cake that would take centre stage. While she was remaining very patient with me, I knew that my almost daily panics and changes to the order were wearing thin. Shadow and I barely g
ot in the door before she spoke.

  “Cara. Enough. Everything is going to be fine.”

  “But I forgot sausage rolls,” I said.

  Shadow looked expectant again. But when nothing appeared, he instead starting sniffing around for crumbs.

  “But I didn’t forget them,” said Emma. “Cara, I do this sort of thing for a living. Please trust me to know what I’m doing. Do something to take your mind off this launch before you drive us all mad.” She flashed me a friendly grin to reassure me that there was no animosity.

  This book launch really was turning me into someone I barely recognised. I tried to think of the last time I had been this nervous. Was it when I packed up my journalist job to move to these islands? Or during the final exams of my degree? No, neither of those things came even close. What I wasn’t willing to admit was that I had spent my entire life barely stepping beyond my comfort zone. I chose the things I knew I was good at and placed my focus where I could achieve. For over thirty years, I had been avoiding uncertainty. But releasing a book was full of it and I wasn’t sure my nerves could take it.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I will try my best to chill out,” I said.

  “I’m always right, you know that.” Emma winked. “Now, go, before I have to chase you out of here.”

  I called Shadow over and we walked back out onto Islethorpe’s small high street. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The saltiness of the air comforted me, reminding me of the ocean’s expansiveness and my own insignificance. If I listened carefully, I could hear the sucking and slurping of the continual waves as they slapped on the crusty rocks that lay a little below the village. There was also the squark of the glutenous gulls swooping overhead as they searched for leftovers and dropped crumbs.

  But it was an aggressive growl that bought me back to where I was. Startled, I opened my eyes and looked around. Beryl was stood outside the bookshop with a man leaning over her, shouting in her face. His hands were balled into fists and he looked ready to strike her.

  Chapter 2

  The odd word and phrases were delivered by the wind with a thump.

  “…that book…”

  “…no…not like that…”

  “You dare…hurt…”

  “…secret…safe”.

  Beryl looked unphased, standing there passively allowing the tirade to bounce off her bones. I was open-mouthed in shock as I watched Caz’s husband, Phil, continue unleashing his unfettered anger onto a pensioner. Shadow let out a bark, affronted that anyone would treat his friend this way. But my growing fear and nerves had me rooted to the spot. I should be at Beryl’s side. I should be stepping between Phil and her. I should be moving and taking control. But it was like my fears had seeded and sprouted an angry Phil from a crack in the pavement. There was no doubt that this was about the book. It was a mistake to think I could release one, to lead Beryl on and suggest it to her. Now it was Beryl that was paying for my mistake.

  Before my mouth could shape itself around any noise, I saw Valerie rushing towards the scene. This was not good. The bad omens were now rolling in one after another and I would never be able to take control of this beast.

  Valerie was Beryl’s niece but they had fallen out many years ago. While they both lived on Bwytheney, it seemed Valerie did her best to avoid her aunt whereever possible. Beryl, on the other hand, was always open to rekindling their relationship. With her children having flown the nest, Valerie was the only family she had on Bwytheney, and I knew it pained her to see Valerie grow her own family and not be a part of it.

  And now Valerie was rushing in to the disturbance, a vulture ready to pick over the bones that Phil left behind. Imagine my surprise when I saw Valerie wrap an arm around Beryl’s shoulder as she scowled at Phil.

  “Beryl!” I shouted across the street, my senses returning. I rushed across the road in her direction.

  I could make out Valerie reprimanding Phil, “How dare you treat Beryl like this. She’s not getting any younger and she does not deserve you attacking her in the street.”

  “I was not attacking her,” he said. “And as for you,” Phil turned to face me as I finally reached Beryl’s side. “Who the hell do you think you are, an outsider coming here and stirring up trouble, digging up the past when its best left buried there.”

  Shadow barked a warning at Phil.

  “What? What are you talking about?” I said.

  “Oh don’t act innocent. You two and this damn book. I swear, if there’s one word in there about me or my family—”

  “Phillip Joshua Owen, that best not be a threat. I’ve already told you that book contains nothing but the good of Bwytheney. And if you choose to not believe me, then I really don’t have any time for you. Now, move out of my way.” I wasn’t sure where Beryl found her strength but it left me feeling more than a little inadequate.

  I floundered while Beryl set him straight. Shadow went to Beryl’s side and gently licked her fingers to let her know he was there.

  Phil went to say something else but obviously thought better of it. Instead, he stormed off. As he disappeared down the high street, I could still see his hunched shoulders and the fists at his side. I could only hope that his anger dissipated before he reached home. Oh gosh, what about Caz? I thought. Was I about to lose one of my dearest friends? Was she angry with me too?

  There were five of us — Emma, Caz, Jo, Pam and me. We were best friends who met up regularly whether it was at my book club or at The Bell Inn’s Sunday night quiz. It was also fair to say that we spent a considerable amount of time in Cupcake Café. As it was owned by Emma, we often met there for a catch up and coffee. The girls had been nothing but supportive about my book and encouraged the launch party. Now, Caz’s husband was raging about it being published. Was Caroline secretly upset too? I couldn’t bare thinking about it and what might end up happening to our friendship group if things turned sour between two of us.

  Valerie was holding Beryl’s hand in hers and I even spotted a small, affectionate squeeze as she whispered something to her, “…But about the lighthouse and…? I just…”

  “Valerie, you have nothing to worry about, I promise. You never have,” said Beryl.

  “Beryl, I’m so sorry,” I said. “What even happened? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Phil like that.”

  “Oh, it was nothing. He’s just let his imagination get the better of him worrying what we might have included in the book.”

  “It wasn’t exactly nothing,” said Valerie.

  “No, Valerie’s right. He was really volatile for a moment,” I added.

  “It’s fine, honestly. For some reason, he thought our book was going to gossip about his family. As you’re beginning to see, Cara, these islands are full of history, and not everyone wants theirs exposed. I’m just offended that he would think I would do such a thing.”

  “Well, judging by his comment about me being an outsider, he probably thinks I’ve led you astray. Thank you for coming to Beryl’s aid, Valerie.”

  “No problem. And take no notice of him, Cara. You’re an important part of these islands and you’ve made them your home,” said Valerie. “But as lovely as this is, I’ve really got to get on.”

  With a quick peck on Beryl’s cheek, Valerie was on her way. I thought I heard Shadow give a little growl but when I looked at him, he was lying quietly on the pavement. I don’t know what left me more unsettled: Valerie being kind to Beryl, Phil’s outburst, or the book launch moving ever closer.

  Chapter 3

  There was still so much to do for the book launch. I was desperate for it to be a success for Beryl’s sake but I couldn’t shake the sickness settling in my stomach. It kept telling me that I was going to mess it up. What did I know about book launches? It was clear from yesterday’s events that I was already upsetting people without realising it.

  I looked at the shopping list in front of me. All I had to do was keep referring to this and it would make sure I didn’t mess up somehow. I nee
ded to spend a few hours in the village, shopping and tracking down the last items required such as tablecloths and balloons. Maybe Emma would have a few I could borrow. The branded bookmarks had arrived this morning so there was that at least.

  Bramble Cottage, where I lived, was situated just off Islethorpe’s High Street and as soon as I opened my door, I could smell the sea air mingled with italian coffee from Emma’s cafe and the freshly baked rolls from Bwytheney Bakery. Shadow’s nose was twitching and sniffing the air, waiting for an opportunity for a tit-bit to come his way. As we approached the high street, I spotted Gregory Albright heading in our direction. I felt my jaw tighten and a frown infect my forehead. He was too busy looking at his phone to see us stood there. But as he got nearer, Shadow growled and let out a bark. It wasn’t like Shadow but I could hardly blame him. I wasn’t a fan of the man either. The bark was enough to jolt Gregory’s attention. When he saw us stood on the corner just a few metres away, he glowered and turned in the opposite direction.

  Don’t get me wrong. Most people on Bwytheney are very friendly. I’ve never lived somewhere before that was so warm and welcoming. It was only recently that I’d taken a disliking to Gregory. He was the local landowner who lived in a large manor house just outside the village. His ancestors had been what we call the landed gentry - an upper class family that were friends with lords and ladies. The estate was not quite what it once was thanks to Gregory’s father but it was still sizable. This was not the reason for my dislike, however.

  While most people would now consider me an amateur sleuth, this had not always been the case. In fact, it is only recently that I started investigating mysteries on the Nord Isles. However, Gregory Albright had a habit of turning up in these investigations like a bad penny and with each one, I uncovered a little bit more about Gregory and his business dealings. It seemed he was not entirely above board, if you know what I mean. Having said that, not all the information I had gathered on him had come from above board sources either. Dan, my old friend from University, occasionally used his computer programming skills to help me out. While Gregory wasn’t sure how much I knew for sure, he did know that I was on to him.