A Cornish Revenge (The Loveday Ross Cornish Mysteries Book 1) Read Free Page B

ashore.’
      ‘Where will they land?’ Sam asked.
      ‘There’s a beach of sorts just along the coast. We have vehicles waiting there.’
      Sam was noting the speed of the waves. ‘How long have they got down there?’
      ‘We think about fifteen minutes…ten to be on the safe side, before the tide -.’
      ‘I don’t think we should hang about for another ten minutes. Let’s get these people out of there now,’ Sam said.
      ‘But what if they haven’t finished?’
      Sam’s eyebrows descended into a frown. ‘Now, Will,’ he growled.
      Lawrence had joined Loveday, watching the latest arrivals. The woman, in a well-cut dark suit and green wellies, was a good six inches shorter than her male companion. She’d made an attempt to tame her mass of crinkly auburn hair by securing it with a butterfly clip at the back of her head, but the wind was tearing at it, giving her a dishevelled appearance.
    The man had a definite air of authority, despite the casual tweed jacket and dark, open necked shirt. He’d glanced briefly in their direction as he passed but showed no inclination to speak to them. Loveday studied him, guessing he was in his mid to late thirties, at least six feet tall, with strong wide shoulders. His dark hair was brushed back, revealing a high forehead. Even from this distance she could tell his eyes were dark. Not bad looking, she thought, if you liked that serious, rugged type.
    He suddenly glanced up and met her eyes. Had that been the trace of a smile? She didn’t wait to find out, turning away, embarrassed at having been caught staring at him. It was the woman officer who came over. The other young detective was still having his ear bent by the Vincents.
       ‘DC Fox.’ She introduced herself. It was a West Country accent, but not Cornish. She fixed Lawrence with a look. ‘And you are -?’
      Lawrence gave his details and described how they found the body. DC Fox jotted the information into her notebook and turned to face Loveday. ‘And you -?’ she asked.
      The woman’s apparent inability to finish a sentence was beginning to irritate Loveday. She smiled at the unreceptive face. ‘I’m Loveday Ross,’ she said. ‘…A journalist.’ The information had the desired effect and Loveday had to stifle a victorious grin as she watched the woman's bored expression change to one of suspicion.
      DC Fox looked up from her scribbling. Loveday had her full attention now. ‘Can I ask why you’re here, Miss Ross?’
      Already feeling guilty at her blatant attempt to antagonise the woman, Loveday smiled. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not a newspaper. I work for a local magazine – Cornish Folk .’ She had allowed her voice to rise questioningly at the end of the sentence, but the woman gave no indication she had ever heard of the magazine, which was strange considering it was in every newsagents’ shop in the county.
      ‘Stop hiding your light under a bushel, Loveday,’ Lawrence cut in. ‘Loveday’s the editor of Cornish Folk .’
      Loveday frowned at Lawrence’s well-meaning attempt to establish her professional status. ‘Assistant editor, actually’ she corrected. ‘And I’m here today because we will be running a feature about Lawrence’s art school in the next issue.’
      DC Fox clipped the cap back on her pen and Loveday thought she had glimpsed the trace of a smirk. ‘You might have to postpone that,’ the detective said.
    Loveday watched Amanda Fox retreat in search of the Vincents who had been standing apart, totally engrossed in the activities around them. Until now, she hadn’t given a thought to the problems this would cause at the magazine when they no longer had Lawrence’s vital article to fill those two empty pages. But as soon as the realisation dawned, Loveday chastised herself. How could she be so callous? What did a magazine article matter when a man lay dead only a hundred feet below? He’d have a family somewhere…parents…a