Competition Can Be Murder Read Free

had caught only the merest glimpse of the whole structure the day we arrived to pick up our keys from the estate manager’s office.
    I told Ian briefly what we were doing here and suggested that he drop by anytime, and bring the dogs.
    “Well, my wife and I are around a lot. You can always find a friendly dog or two with us. Our place is the second turn after the bend in the road.”
    “I thought I heard voices a minute ago,” I mentioned.
    Ian stared pointedly at my feet, which were clad in thoroughly soggy socks now, and shrugged. “Was nothin’.” He turned and gave a sharp whistle to the dogs, who immediately snapped to attention.
    I stood slowly and watched the three of them follow the drive toward the road. Something had sure touched a nerve.

Chapter 3

    The phone was ringing when I opened the front door. My socks made squishy noises as my feet hit the tile in the entryway. I reached to peel them off, trying to hop toward the kitchen phone, and nearly landed on my face in the effort. It took about three giant stumbling steps to recover and reach the telephone. I managed a breathless, “Hello?” as I slid the last two feet and knocked one knee into the refrigerator. “Shit!”
    “Excuse me?” a cultured female voice answered.
    “Oh, I am so sorry,” I breathed. “I was outside.”
    “In this weather? No wonder.” She paused a long few seconds. “Is that Charlie Parker, then?”
    “Yes, yes it is,” I stuttered, wondering who on earth had our number here. Meggie was the only female I’d spoken to, and this voice was a few decades older than hers.
    “Yes, Charlie. It’s Sarah Dunbar, up at Dunworthy.”
    “Oh.” Brilliant, Charlie. What a charming answer to the lady of the castle. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dunbar. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
    “Oh, nonsense, girl. The weather’s a fright today. I should give you a minute to towel off. Would you like me to phone back later? And, please, it’s Sarah.”
    “No . . . Sarah, this is fine. No need to make another call. I’m doing just fine.” I was, in fact, toweling off as we spoke, rubbing a kitchen hand towel vainly over my hair in an effort to keep the water from dripping into my eyes. Why hadn’t I noticed how wet I was getting while I petted the dogs?
    “Actually, I just phoned to see if you and your husband might be free this afternoon for tea? Say around four?”
    Tea with the gentry? I wondered if she extended this invitation to every renter on the castle grounds? “Four would be lovely,” I said, picking up on the few manners I’d once possessed. “I’m not sure what time to expect Drake in, though . . .”
    “Well, then, you come—with or without him. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”
    I replaced the receiver softly and caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the microwave oven’s small door. Shoulder length hair hanging in damp strands, bangs pasted to my forehead, no makeup. And my dripping socks had now made sizeable puddles on the tile floor. Yes—I’m going to tea at the castle. I couldn’t help it, I broke up laughing.
    I peeled off the socks and squeezed them out over the kitchen sink. Thirty minutes later I’d changed clothes and dried my hair, toasted an English muffin, and switched on the electric fire in the fireplace. It glowed orangely through its fake logs and emitted a surprising amount of warmth. Stretched out in a hugely padded armchair with feet on a matching ottoman, I nibbled my muffin and contemplated my plans for the day. Buying an umbrella or two should definitely be part of the plan, I decided. I’d known, leaving New Mexico, that we would need them but since we didn’t own any, the purchase had been put off.
    The keys to our rented Vector hung on a hook by the door. Drake had been driving Brian’s company vehicle and I’d been watching the way he handled the right-hand drive and getting a feel for the art of driving on the “wrong” side of the road. I thought I could handle it,