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  Murder on the Beach

  Penelope Sotheby

  ~~~

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright © 2018 Penelope Sotheby

  First published in 2018 by Jonmac Limited.

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters and places, incidents are used entirely fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Other Books By The Author

  Murder at the Inn

  The Diane Dimbleby Murder Collection Volume 1

  Murder on the Village Green

  Murder in the Neighbourhood

  Murder on a Yacht

  Murder in the Village

  Murder in the Mail

  Murder in the Development

  Murder in the Highlands

  Table Of Contents

  Free Book

  Other Books By The Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Get Your Free Copy of “Murder at the Inn”

  An Evening of Mystery: March 15 – March 22 2018

  Other Books By This Author

  About The Author

  Fantastic Fiction

  Chapter 1

  There was nothing quite like a spring morning on the quiet countryside of Apple Mews in Shropshire. Diane Dimbleby enjoyed taking her morning tea and breakfast outside to listen to the birds and watch the sun rise over the low mountains. From time to time, she would see a deer or rabbit scurrying along. Apple Mews had been Diane’s home for most of her life. She was a teacher at the local school before meeting her husband David and moving to London. Her husband was a detective at Scotland Yard. They spent two gloriously happy years together in London before he was killed in the line of duty. After his death, she returned home to the only place she found real comfort at in the midst of tragedy.

  Apple Mews was the type of town that went to bed early and woke up slowly. With less than a thousand residents in the quiet village, everyone knew everyone. And everyone knew everyone’s business as well. Diane was no exception. She especially made it her point to know the goings on of Inspector Crothers, sometimes to his chagrin.

  “Ms. Dimbleby, please remove yourself from my crime scene and let me do my job,” the Inspector would say, right before she reminded him that on more than one occasion her input had helped him close a case. After retiring from teaching, she could not simply be one of those women who spent all of her time knitting, playing cards and watching the years tick by. Diane had always had a love for writing and now had the time to commit. Finally her own boss, she spent her afternoons leisurely writing and editing her novels, specifically crime novels. She enjoyed writing mysteries and found that life around her, even in Apple Mews, offered inspiration.

  Unlike her quiet hometown, Diane could definitely do without the hustle and bustle of Plymouth in Devon, a much larger town home to hundreds of thousands of people. But her beloved nephew was getting married, and she could not miss it. Frederick Godwin had been the apple of Diane’s eye since he was a small lad. Never having children of her own, she had doted on the boy from the day he was born. Frederick was her brother Martin’s only son. He was a lawyer in Plymouth at the well-known firm Hanson and Gregory. It was there he met his soon-to-be wife, Emily. She was a lovely girl who also worked as an attorney.

  “I knew from the moment I saw her that she would be my wife,” Frederick had told his Aunt Diane. He was definitely smitten from the start, and after meeting Emily, Diane completely understood. The two complimented each other perfectly, Diane thought, as she put the finishing touches to her hair and makeup before making her way to the late afternoon wedding. She was staying at a quaint chalet close to the church where the wedding was being held. Well, as quaint as lodging could get in the city.

  It was not family-owned and run like the hotel in Apple Mews, but the manager was friendly, the rooms were clean and stylish, and the breakfast had been delicious. She had chosen the location not just because of its proximity to the church, but also because it was near the beach. Diane loved to walk along the beach, feel the briny air and listen to the sounds of the ocean. On her first night, she had left her window slightly open in hopes of catching the sound of the waves lightly crashing against the sand. She was in luck that the chalet was just far enough from the major traffic that the only sounds she heard as she fell asleep were the waves.

  Diane put a call in to her fiancé Albert who was back in Apple Mews looking after the dogs. He was meant to come along to the wedding also, but he twisted his ankle after falling over a rabbit hole and so was told to take it easy for a few days by the doctor. Diane thought that Albert fell deliberately to get out of what he deemed to be “a tedious bore” of a weekend. Just about anything that took Albert out of this beloved Apple Mews, was a tedious bore Diane thought. On the phone Albert told Diane that everything was fine and to stop fussing, before having to hang up as Strictly Come Dancing was coming on the television.

  Diane noticed the time, silently scolded herself for being lost in thought, and gathered her things before hurrying out the door. The church had been decorated beautifully with hundreds of white, blue and yellow flowers, and the colors complimented the late spring weather. She remembered Frederick saying how concerned Emily was that unpredictable spring weather would mar their wedding day, but the day was perfect.

  Diane signed the guestbook, noting the other guests attending the wedding, and was greeted by a young usher dressed in a suit that looked a bit too large for his frame.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am,” the young usher said. “Bride or groom?”

  “Groom, please,” she said. “Are you part of the bride’s family?

  “Yes, ma’am. The bride is my cousin,” he said, beaming with pride. “Our mothers are sisters. She used to watch me when I was a boy.”

  “How lovely,” Diane said, thinking that the young man was still quite a boy. She was escorted to the family area of the groom’s side and caught sight of her brother’s wife, Suzanne, who seemed to be running around with no clear place to go.

  “The flowers look as if they are already wilting,” Suzanne said to no one in particular. “And the time. The time is flittering away. The food will be cold by the time everyone gets to the reception.”

  “Everything is lovely, and the food will be fine,” Martin said, catching up
with his wife and pointing her back toward the pews to sit. On his way back, he caught sight of his sister. Diane gave him a wink and a smile, and he responded with a quick nod and eye-roll toward his wife.

  Martin was Diane’s younger brother by four years and her only sibling. Their parents had moved the family to Apple Mews when Diane and Martin were very young. Diane did not even remember living anywhere else. She had fallen in love with the small town as a child and, aside from college, had little intention of leaving before she met her husband. Martin, on the other hand, seemed eager to leave as soon as possible. He ended up in Devon, where he met his wife and started a family. Their parents had died only a few years after Martin finished college, and the siblings had made a point to see each other as often as possible. Life, as it does, continued to get busier as the years went by. Although they did not see one another as often as they would have liked, Diane and Martin always found the time.

  The music began, and her nephew and his groomsmen took their places at the front of the church as the ushers escorted the remaining guests to their seats. A curly blonde-headed flower girl made her way down the aisle, dramatically tossing her basket of petals along the way. She was followed by a less than enthusiastic ring-bearer more interested in picking up the petals left behind than holding the little silk pillow and posing for pictures. Four bridesmaids followed dressed in slightly different but complimentary blue dresses, taking their place across from the best man. The maid of honor was Emily’s sister, Marjorie, and the remaining bridesmaids were friends from college who had spent the entire week in Devon preparing for their friend’s big day. Diane was reminded of the day she married David. Her two closest college girlfriends had traveled to Apple Mews to spend the days before her wedding getting everything, including the dress, ready.

  After the bridesmaids had taken their places, the wedding march started. As Emily and her father made their way down the aisle, the guests stood with oooohs and ahhhhhs. The ceremony was beautiful, with the couple sharing their own personalized vows. After the “I dos,” the wedding party and their guests were treated to a lovely outdoor reception and dance.

  “Wonderful to see you, sweet sister,” said her brother, Martin, kissing Diane on her check. “Very glad you could come.”

  “I would not miss it,” she said. “Has the mother of the groom recovered?”

  “Oh, you know Suzanne, only child and all,” he answered. “And between the two of us, also a bit of a drama queen,” he added quietly.

  “I’ll forget you said that,” Diane said. “Even though I know exactly what you mean. I’m glad so many could come. It looks to be a successful day.”

  “Yes, yes. Did you see cousin Abbie?” he asked.

  “No, where?” she asked.

  “She’s introducing yet another much younger man as her forever beau,” her brother answered, motioning to an overweight, older woman staying close to the buffet. “And over there is Uncle Robbie. He specifically asked if you were coming, so you had better make an appearance. And I better go find Suzanne and make sure she isn’t still inside the church trying to perk up the flowers.”

  Diane chuckled and watched him go. She scanned the crowd, recognizing a handful of old friends and family members. She and Martin did not have a very large extended family, but it appeared that everyone had made it to the wedding. Cousin Abbie caught her eye and rushed toward Diane. Abbie had been married three times that Diane knew of, and always seemed to be introducing someone new.

  “Didi!” Abbie exclaimed. She was the only person in Diane’s family who had ever called her Didi, and it was not something that Diane particularly liked then or now. But Abbie had been younger than Diane, and when she had tried to say her name, Didi was all that came out.

  “Oh Abbie, I haven’t gone by that name in years,” she said. “I do prefer Diane.”

  “Of course, of course!” Abbie said. “Are you here with anyone? No? Well, I am, come meet him. He really is marvelous.”

  Abbie dragged Diane over to meet her companion, after which Diane mingled through the crowd, catching up with family she had not seen since moving back to Apple Mews several years earlier. The music began, and the crowd began to clap as Frederick and Emily entered the dance floor for their first dance. After the first song, the guests began to join in. Frederick saw his aunt and greeted her with a hardy hug.

  “Aunt Diane!” he said. “I’m so glad you are here. Wasn’t it beautiful? Wasn’t she beautiful?”

  “Oh yes, Freddie,” she said. Diane was the only person who referred to Frederick as Freddie and was, in fact, the only person who could get away with it. “Everything was wonderful.”

  “Are you having fun?” he said. “Did you see mum and dad?”

  “Of course I am,” she said. “And yes, I saw both of them. Your mother seemed to take it well.”

  “Right,” he chuckled. “How about Abbie and her new friend?”

  “I could not have missed her if I tried, and I tried,” Diane sighed.

  Frederick smiled. “Come, I want to introduce you to some people,” he said.

  Frederick ushered his aunt through several people, introducing her to members of his new wife’s family and some of his co-workers. “Oh, there he is,” Frederick said, directing her toward a middle-aged man with salt-and-peppered hair standing next to Frederick’s new father in law. “I really want you to meet Charles, I think the two of you would hit it off.”

  “This is Charles Godfrey, he is a friend of Emily’s father,” Frederick said, introducing her to the man. “Charles, this is my Aunt Diane. Charles is a Devon attorney, and Aunt Diane fancies herself a detective story writer.”

  Diane blushed as she shook Charles’ hand and gave her nephew a disapproving glance.

  “How fun and exciting,” Charles said. “Sometimes I wish I could live a more interesting life in fiction.”

  “Now that’s not true,” Frederick said. “Charles is a very successful lawyer. He’s tried several high-profile murder cases.”

  “Is that right?” Diane said excitedly. “I would love to pick your brain. After all, truth can be so much more compelling than fiction.”

  “There is truth to that I suppose,” Charles replied. “I do think I could sit for a bit. Let’s grab a drink, and you can pick away.”

  “And with that, I’ll leave you two to it and go find my beautiful new wife for a dance,” Frederick said, kissing his aunt on the cheek before disappearing through the crowd. Charles led Diane to the bar where they both chose a glass of white wine and found a quiet table toward the back of the reception.

  “So do tell me what cases you have been involved in,” Diane asked. “I thought your name sounded familiar, like I had seen it in the paper. Was it the triple murder in the Exeter underground? Or the murder/kidnapping in Torquay?”

  “Both actually,” Charles said, looking intrigued and surprised.

  “Your firm represented the defendants, right?” Diane asked. “In the triple murder, is it true that the killer left behind drawings on the wall? And the kidnapping, is there really a tape no one has seen that clears the current suspect?”

  Charles smiled broadly before letting out a small laugh. “I’m not sure if you are more insightful or imaginative,” he said. “I cannot tell you everything I know, but I can tell you enough to satisfy the detective novelist in you.”

  Charles and Diane spent the rest of the evening discussing the prominent cases Charles had been and was involved in. Diane was excited to hear Charles’ perspective, and she made hundreds of mental notes on taking the information he shared and expanding on some exciting fiction stories. Charles enjoyed hearing about Diane’s crime-solving adventures in and around Apple Mews, and the love-hate relationship she shared with Inspector Crothers. Before they realized it, the evening had dwindled down to only a few remaining guests. Frederick and Emily had long since left the reception for their week-long honeymoon in Italy.

  “Well, it has been a pleasure talking with you, b
ut I’m afraid I must get some rest,” she told Charles before gathering her coat and purse and saying her final goodbyes to the remaining family and friends. She made her way back to her chalet, readied herself for sleep and crawled into the comfortable bed, exhausted from the day. Despite the conversation topics of the evening, she slept soundly and happily.

  Chapter 2

  The morning sun broke through the curtains, waking Diane from her slumber. She was surprised she had slept as late as she had, but the previous evening had been tiring. Before checking in with Martin and Suzanne and heading back to Apple Mews, she decided a long walk along the beach next to her chalet was in order. Diane dressed in a light blue warm-up suit and tennis shoes before heading down to breakfast. She chose something light with her tea and headed off. The mid-morning air was refreshing, and the briny smell and crisp breeze coming off the ocean invigorated her walk.

  Diane stepped onto the soft sand, looking at the seabirds. She walked toward the pier and walked along the wooden planks, listening to the soft creak and lapping water below her. A handful of people sat along the pier with fishing poles sitting lazily in the water.

  “Good mornin’ lady,” a young boy aged no more than 10 said to her as she stepped up next to him. “Fine mornin’ and the fish are bitin’ still.”

  “Well good morning,” she said smiling at him, looking at the small bunch of fish the boy had sitting next to him. “Looks like quite a haul.”

  The boy smiled back and her and picked up his fish. “Sure is,” he said, scurrying away.

  Diane walked back out to the beach and strolled along looking at the different shells across the sand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw colorful movement. She looked up and noticed an open sun-umbrella rolling across the beach heading toward the water. The umbrella was a deep blue and looked rather expensive. Diane quickly looked around for its owner and, not seeing anyone, ran toward it. She caught up with it just before it rolled into the water. After shaking off the water and wet sand, Diane walked back over to where it appeared to have come from.