The Missing Party-Girl: A Rags-to-Riches Cozy Mystery Romance, Nhys Glover [best inspirational books .txt] 📗

“You want company?” he asked carefully.

Cage had loosened his protective grip on her in the last weeks, even after the baiting incident. As long as she had Jig with her, he’d been okay about letting her go for walks around the fields, following well-marked walking trails.

That was another trait of the Brits. They loved to hike. There was always a line of hardy walkers tramping down the road in front of their place. And it was quite legal for them to hike across farmland. No one here got to put up Private Property signs on farmland.

But Adie knew she needed to actually meet people, not just wander the fields. And the village was as safe to visit as her backyard. Lots of people would be looking out for her, Dave had informed her gently, when he suggested she make an effort to meet her neighbors.

“I’d like to go alone, if that’s okay,” she answered uncomfortably. “I’ll have Jig with me. And Dave said people would keep an eye on me.”

Cage nodded, his expression starker than it had been when she came down. It was a fine line they walked. He wanted to protect her from the possible threat her cousin-by-marriage posed, but he also wanted her to start being ‘normal’ after a lifetime of being anything but normal.

“And walking is good for me. Look?” she held out her jeans, displaying the fact the stretch fabric wasn’t nearly as stretched tight as it had been when she arrived in England.

One day she might even get to be trim, taut and even a little terrific. Although she wasn’t fooling herself that she’d ever be beautiful. On the outside, anyway. But passably attractive suited her well enough. She didn’t want to be beautiful enough to attract the predatory gazes of strange men.

Cage looked at her slimming thighs and flattening stomach. “Told you you didn’t need to diet or starve yourself to lose weight.”

His smug tone was his just dessert for all the work he’d put in on her since they’d met. He was her personal trainer, on top of all the other roles he taken on in their relationship. It was lucky he was being paid the big bucks to do it all.

“Has anyone ever explained that ‘I told you so,’ is no way to win friends and influence people?” she snarked back amiably.

His big shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Have I told you how much I care about winning people over?”

She bumped his shoulder with her own. Or maybe it was his arm. He was a lot taller than she was.

“You make me feel like a party-girl in comparison to you,” she joked, beginning the task of mashing bananas.

“Talking about party-girls. Are you ready to start working on Georgie’s case?” Cage asked as he stirred the oats.

“I guess the longer I leave it, the more chance there is of Winsley getting in the way. I felt a bit guilty that Aunt Minerva decided to play games with him, until he tried to kill my dog.”

“It’s Minerva’s fault, not yours. She should never have dangled that carrot in front of his nose, especially as she never meant for him to get the money. Your aunt simply wanted to make the perfect stick to keep you motivated. The foolish woman didn’t consider all the ramifications of her little plan.”

Adie sighed heavily. “I know. And I can see why I would need motivating. Who am I to solve a sixty-year-old cold case? And why does it matter if it does get solved? The killer, if there actually was a killer, is probably long dead. Georgie is likely dead by now as well; if she did just take off as some people believed. Even her son is dead.”

Cage jerked his head up to meet her gaze. “Son?”

She shrugged self-consciously. “Rory. Didn’t you pick up Georgie’s son’s name?”

“Rory isn’t a rare name over here,” he pointed out.

“I know. But why mention him by name, if he was only the ten-year-old kid of her short-term friend? And why employ Rory as caretaker for this place after he got out of the army? Why him? It just seems too coincidental that she’d have done something nice for a total stranger like that…”

Cage bit at his full bottom lip thoughtfully. “It could be a coincidence, but I see where you’re coming from. After the way things went with the Mystery of the Lost Child, I can see Minerva throwing some clues into the mix for this next mystery.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s good at those.”

Chapter 1

The weather for early spring was chilly, but at least there was no wind and the sun was shining. Even the frost had burned away by the time she put Jig’s leash on and they began her self-imposed task of visiting the locals.

The village center was a quarter mile from Beckside Farm. It wasn’t much more than a few shops and a pub bookended by two churches. The first church she reached was called St James’. It was square and squat, with a crenellated tower that contained a bell. From the look of it, it had to have been built from local stone, like everything else in the area.

When she read the notice-board she discovered the church was Norman, having been built in 1142. It blew her mind to know something so old was still in use. The vicar was a Michael Watson and services were held at 10am every Sunday. There were also several social gatherings held at the church hall nearby.

As she studied the information, wondering if she should attend some gathering or other, a very tall, thin man strode down the path from the church towards her. By the broad grin on his face, she thought he must