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Blue Christmas by Clare Revell

 


St. Morien, Cornwall. Beautiful. Peaceful.

Deadly.

Detective Inspector Aidan Urquhart has a mystery on his hands. Three young women  reported missing back in the summer have been found dead; all still wearing the clothes in which they vanished; all frozen solid on the cold shore.

When Jenica Zimmerman realises her sister is missing, she heads to the Cornish coast where the police have few clues. The DI leading the case warns her not to take chances, to go home and leave the case to his team. Determined to stay, Jenica takes a room at a local inn and attempts to find her sister herself.

With Christmas fast approaching, all she wants is a happy ending. But when a fourth body is discovered, all tidings of comfort and joy seem far away.

Extract:

Two girls had been found dead on the beach at St. Morien in the last two weeks. Neither were Thea, but Jenica couldnā€™t help but worry.

On a hunch she checked the photo app on her phone that Thea was addicted to. Her breath caught as she realised Thea hadnā€™t posted since August.

August? How hadnā€™t she noticed? She barely checked that particular app these days. She checked another social media account, again one she no longer used much, to find the same thing. Thea hadnā€™t posted anything since mid-August when all her posts were filled with work and this bloke sheā€™d mentioned.

Something was definitely out of kilter.

Trembling fingers vied for attention with her roiling stomach as she looked up the number for the local Cornish police station.

ā€œSt. Morien Police. How can I help you?ā€ A bored, young voice answered the phone.

ā€œHello, could I speak to the officer in charge of the murder cases, please?ā€

ā€œThat would be DI Urquhart.ā€

ā€œThen could I speak to him, please?ā€

ā€œOne momentā€¦ā€ A click followed by footsteps, then a yell, ā€œSir, phone. Some woman wanting to talk to you about the murders.ā€

The sound of a door slamming against the wall came through the phone. ā€œAnd would this lady have a name?ā€ The broad Scottish accent seemed out of place.

ā€œDidnā€™t ask.ā€

ā€œWell, that was intelligent. Is she a reporter after another exclusive?ā€

ā€œI have no idea. She asked for the officer in charge.ā€

Jenica rolled her eyes. Great way to run a police station. Obviously, she was meant to be on hold, but wasnā€™t. And she was eternally grateful she wasnā€™t a journalist. If she was, sheā€™d probably be tempted to hang up, even if it was a personal matter.

And if this wasnā€™t such an important matter, sheā€™d hang up right now.

The phone clicked again. ā€œDI Urquhart. How can I help you, maā€™am?ā€ The Scottish voice was clipped, professional, and the sort of voice she could listen to for hours on an audio book. All velvety chocolate smooth and swoon worthy.

Heā€™d also called her maā€™am. Sheā€™d never been called that before. Ever. She wasnā€™t sure whether he was being polite or something else.

Only this wasnā€™t a book, and she needed to talk to him with a level head. ā€œHello, Inspector. My name is Jenica Zimmerman. Iā€™m worried about my sister. She moved to Cornwall in May and we havenā€™t heard from her in a while. Actually, make that a long while. Since June. And she hasnā€™t posted anything online since August the fourteenth. Which is more than a little strange. She normally posts several times a day.ā€

ā€œI see. Have you filed a missing personā€™s report?ā€

ā€œNoā€¦itā€™s complicated. I know sheā€™s not one of the bodies found on the beach, because weā€™d have been told if she were, but I canā€™t help but worry.ā€

ā€œHow do you know sheā€™s here?ā€

ā€œI donā€™t, exactly. But I had a postcard from St. Morien saying she was staying around there somewhere. Sheā€™d taken a job locally and had a boyfriend, but didnā€™t give me any more information than that, Iā€™m afraid.ā€

DI Urquhart sighed. ā€œWhatā€™s your sisterā€™s name?ā€

ā€œThea Zimmerman.ā€

Scribbling noises followed for a second or two. ā€œOK, Iā€™ve made a note. If she shows up, Iā€™ll ask her to call home. Has she done this kind of thing before?ā€

ā€œOnce or twice. She did write a while back and say work was getting busy and she might not be in touch for a bit, thatā€™s why no one has worried until now, butā€¦ā€ Jenica took a deep, supposedly calming breath. ā€œMaybe I should come down there. If there are other missing girls, thenā€”ā€

ā€œIā€™m sure itā€™s not connected at all,ā€ he interrupted. ā€œYou can file a missing personā€™s report with your local station, Miss Zimmerman. Theyā€™ll forward it to all the relevant departments down here. Thank you for calling.ā€

The line went dead.

Really? File a report and forget it?

She couldnā€™t do that. He might not be worried, but then he didnā€™t know Thea and her propensity for getting herself into trouble. Right then, Jenica decided she was going to Cornwall to search for Thea. Sheā€™d retrace her sisterā€™s steps, find out where she stayed, who she was friends with and so on. Sheā€™d read plenty of detective novels, more than enough to know how some of this worked.

Now she had to go and sort out work. Preferably by phone as it was a day off and work was a good half hour drive in the wrong direction. As sheā€™d need a few thicker jumpers for a Cornish winter anyway, she grabbed keys and jacket and headed out to the car. Sheā€™d combine sweet talking her boss with emergency shopping, a much-needed cup of tea and some cake at her favourite tea shop.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Blue-Christmas-Clare-Revell-ebook/dp/B09J1Q61LM

https://www.amazon.com/Blue-Christmas-Clare-Revell-ebook/dp/B09J1Q61LM


Comments

Carol James saidā€¦
I absolutely loved this book. I was guessing "whodunnit" until the very end, and still got it wrong. Bravo to Clare for another great Christmas mystery.

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