What should we do?” Malcolm asked, wringing his hands. Rex suppressed a sigh, realizing that Malcolm, of his own volition, would not open the door to the visitor. “I’ll get it and make my excuses for you.” “Say I’m in the shower. Don’t let him in.” ...
Vanessa Weaver informed Rex. “Aboot time,” he replied in his Lowland Scots burr, recalling with distaste the moldy inn and fake hunting theme decor. “Has business picked up for them, then?” “It has. Ever since the notoriety over the Moor Murders. Gh...
Fallen logs and tangled tussocks of undergrowth conspired to trip them up at every turn. “Over here!” called a weak male voice. “I’m hurt.” Rex and Helen picked up speed and found Cuthbert in a clearing slumped against a gnarled tree stump. &n...
“Ambulance!” the solicitor cried, and asked everyone to stand back and give Polly some room. “What can I do to help?” the vicar warbled. “I’ll take care of her.” Victoria Newcombe crouched on the Berber carpet with a handful of white linen napkins a...
Without waiting for a response, he entered a room formally and abundantly furnished in the Victorian tradition—upholstered sofas in burgundy velvet and ornate mahogany tables, every available surface crammed with Oriental vases, statuettes, and framed photographs. Over the...