Cherringham--Trail of Lies
Contents
Cover
Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series
About the Book
Main Characters
The Authors
Title
Copyright
1. Homeward Bound
2. Fear of the Dark
3. Rest in Peace
4. Amy’s Last Night
5. A New Case
6. Blackwater
7. Jasmine
8. Holly
9. Callum
10. Dinner on Deck
11. The Elusive Truth
12. Back to the Woods
13. Seeing is Believing
14. A Deadly Cover-up
15. Nowhere to Hide
16. Truth Will Out
Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series
“Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series” is a series made up of self-contained stories. The series is published in English as well as in German, and is only available in e-book form.
About the Book
Last year at Cherringham High, and for three girls that means facing the School Summer Challenge, a grueling fifty-mile hike across the Cotswolds, through thick woods, over steep hills, camping each night under the stars. But when one of them disappears in the middle of the night and is found dead in the morning, most believe a terrible accident has taken place. Was it really an accident? Jack and Sarah aren’t convinced — and soon discover that secrets and lies can have terrible consequences …and always leave a trail …
Main Characters
Jack Brennan is a former NYPD homicide detective who lost his wife three years ago. Being retired, all he wants is peace and quiet. Which is what he hopes to find in the quiet town of Cherringham, UK. Living on a canal boat, he enjoys his solitude. But soon enough he discovers that something is missing — the challenge of solving crimes. Surprisingly, Cherringham can help him with that.
Sarah Edwards is a web designer who was living in London with her husband and two kids. Three years ago, he ran off with his sexy American boss, and Sarah’s world fell apart. With her children she moved back to her home town, laid-back Cherringham. But the small town atmosphere is killing her all over again — nothing ever happens. At least, that’s what she thinks until Jack enters her life and changes it for good or worse …
The Authors
Matthew Costello (US-based) is the author of a number of successful novels, including Vacation (2011), Home (2014) and Beneath Still Waters (1989), which was adapted by Lionsgate as a major motion picture. He has written for The Disney Channel, BBC, SyFy and has also designed dozens of bestselling games including the critically acclaimed The 7th Guest, Doom 3, Rage and Pirates of the Caribbean.
Neil Richards has worked as a producer and writer in TV and film, creating scripts for BBC, Disney, and Channel 4, and earning numerous Bafta nominations along the way. He's also written script and story for over 20 video games including The Da Vinci Code and Starship Titanic, co-written with Douglas Adams, and consults around the world on digital storytelling.
His writing partnership with NYC-based Matt Costello goes back to the late 90's and the two have written many hours of TV together. Cherringham is their first crime fiction as co-writers.
Matthew Costello
Neil Richards
CHERRINGHAM
A COSY CRIME SERIES
Trail of Lies
»be« by BASTEI ENTERTAINMENT
Digital original edition
»be« by Bastei Entertainment is an imprint of Bastei Lübbe AG
Copyright © 2018 by Bastei Lübbe AG, Schanzenstraße 6-20, 51063 Cologne, Germany
Written by Matthew Costello and Neil Richards
Edited by Eleanor Abraham
Project management: Kathrin Kummer
Cover illustration © shutterstock: Volodymyr Baleha | suns07butterfly; © iStockphoto: Raylipscombe
Cover design: Thomas Krämer
eBook production: Jilzov Digital Publishing, Düsseldorf
ISBN 978-3-7325-5309-9
www.be-ebooks.com
Twitter: @be_ebooks_com
www.facebook.com/Cherringham
1. Homeward Bound
“You can do it, Holly! Just don’t look down — look straight at me, I’ll grab your hand.”
Holly Wilson stared ahead, eyes locked onto her friend Amy — already at the other end of the flimsy rope bridge — the girl looking so small against the towering trees.
Amy — smiling, so confident, so reassuring.
Just a few short steps away. Like crossing a room, really. What could be easier?
But then she looked down, through the knotted grid of swaying rope — in truth, not a massive drop, twenty feet or so — into a shallow stream.
But enough to hurt if you landed badly. Twisted ankle, knee banged up.
And then this hike would suddenly change.
And twenty feet might just as well be a hundred if you were as scared of heights as she was.
Holly could already feel her heart rate climbing — and her breathing coming faster.
Last thing she needed now was one of her panic attacks.
Bad enough when one hit as she walked the corridors of their school.
But here … now?
She shut her eyes, reaching into herself for all her strategies that she had been taught, that — sometimes — could keep the beast at bay.
Breathe deep and slow. Focus. Take control of the fear. Own it. Don’t even try to push it away.
“Oh, do come on, Holly! God! It’s not exactly the effing Amazon rainforest, now is it?”
Jasmine’s voice, from right behind her. “And you’re hardly likely to slip through the gaps, are you?”
Jasmine.
Just what she didn’t need. That voice in her ear.
Holly turned, just in time to see Jasmine, hands on hips, rolling her eyes. Then — a taunting grin.
“Oh — sorry — I mean, with your backpack and everything, there’s no way you can fall through. Right?”
Holly saw another eye-roll. Jasmine’s nasty smile broadened.
Nice attempt at a recovery, thought Holly. But I know what you meant, Jasmine.
You meant “Holly you’re so fricking fat you couldn’t fall through that bridge if you tried.”
Then, another voice, pulling her back from Jasmine’s cruel words.
“Come on, Holly,” said Amy. “You can do this.”
Holly turned back to look at Amy. Good, reassuring Amy — on the other side of the stream.
“Think of all the other scary stuff we’ve got through on this trip. Stuff you’ve aced. And this is the last bit — okay? Here on in, it’s just woodland trails, couple of hills …”
“And one more night in the sodding tent,” said Jasmine.
“One more night of your cooking too,” Amy shouted back.
“Ooh, nasty, Amy — no chocolate or biscuits for you tonight,” said Jasmine.
“Keep your chocolate,” said Amy. “Do I care?”
“Got other treats hidden away, hmm?” said Jasmine.
“Me to know, you to cry over,” said Amy.
Holly looked from one girl to the other, trying to keep up with this little exchange, feeling that there was stuff between the two that she didn’t know about.
But also, with the distraction, now feeling her panic subsiding, as the focus switched away from her onto Amy.
It was always so hard to have people looking at her.
Imagining what they thought; what they whispered.
And knowing most of it, all in her head.
She took a deep breath, checked the straps on her backpack — though they certainly didn’t need a re-check.
&nbs
p; And then, excuses for any hesitation gone, she stepped forward onto the wobbly bridge.
That first brave step.
“Hey! Way to go!” said Amy. “Go Holly! Go Holly!”
One step. Then another. Eyes locked on Amy.
Hands gripping the guide ropes tight.
The bridge now really swaying with every step, below her water rushing over rocks.
The panic back … full-on … rising again.
Oh God, I’m going to fall, I’m going to fall and die.
“Just two more steps and you’re home, Holly. Look at me. Look at me,” said Amy.
Holly forced her eyes back up from the rushing stream and focused on Amy again — so solid, so confident, like a real explorer, one hand locked onto a tree trunk, the other hand reaching out to her now.
Mechanically, Holly shuffled her feet once more, moving her hands along the rope guides, nearly there, just one more step …
Releasing the rope guide. Reaching out.
And then her hand locking onto Amy’s hand, as she stepped forward onto the rock, feeling Amy’s arms wrap around her, Amy’s cheek pressed against hers. Amy’s beautiful long hair across her face.
“Go girl!” said Amy, pulling back.
Holly looked into her grinning face — those eyes so dark and deep and trusting — and smiled back.
“About bloody time,” said Jasmine, hurrying behind her.
Holly turned to see Jasmine already across.
“Oh, sorry. Just kidding,” she said. “Um, nice one, Holly. Now then, get the bloody map out. And how about we figure out where the hell we go now?”
Holly unzipped the map from the plastic sleeve she had on a loop round her neck. They all had roles, and one of hers was map keeper.
She unfolded it, placed it on a flat section of rock, took her compass from a pocket, and crouched down to work out her bearings.
Aware of the other two girls standing at her side, waiting.
Knowing that this was one skill neither of them had.
She stood up, looking back at the bridge and the stream — then at the woods that stretched away from them into a grey sky.
“Okay. We go that way,” she said, pointing at a rough track that disappeared into dense undergrowth.
Then she picked up her backpack, swung it back onto her shoulders, and headed off up the track.
She had passed the rope challenge and now she was the leader.
“Better be right,” said Jasmine behind her.
“Maps? Navigation? Holly’s always right,” said Amy.
Holly, hearing, smiled to herself as she pushed her way through the bushes that had grown over the path.
Love you, Amy, she thought. But then — who doesn’t love Amy?
*
Jasmine leaned back against her pack, opened the plastic lunchbox and looked inside.
The night before they’d stayed with other groups from school in a youth hostel, and this morning they’d all been given packed lunches for the day’s expedition.
“Eugh,” she said. “Cheese sandwiches — again? Holly — you want?”
She watched Holly pull herself up, then walk over.
God, it’s like watching a creature climb out of a waterhole, she thought. Waddle, waddle …
“Um — you sure you don’t want them?” said Holly.
“It’s the twenty-first century, Holly; nobody eats cheese sandwiches.”
“I do,” said Holly. “I love them.”
What don’t you love to eat? Jasmine thought.
“Can see that,” said Jasmine.
“I’ll have one,” said Amy. “Reminds me of primary school lunches!”
Jasmine saw her step over and take one from Holly.
Amy, suddenly — on this trip — watching out for Holly.
“Remember … how we used to swap biscuits back at Cherringham Primary?” said Amy.
“You always had the best ones, Amy! Your mum, right? A real baker at Huffington’s!” said Holly.
Why does she even bother with her? thought Jasmine. It’s not like we’ll ever talk to Holly again once this term’s over and real life starts!
She picked at the limp salad in her lunchbox, then looked at her two companions sitting and eating in this little glade in the forest.
What a waste of time this whole trip had been — and it should have been so cool!
Five days, trekking across the Cotswolds, camping one night, hostels the next — fifty miles, no teachers, just three girls.
The challenge — a ritual for final-year Cherringham High students — a trek they organised entirely themselves to raise money for charity.
God — it could have been totally amazing.
But Freya had got ill just before the trip — and she and Amy had got stuck with loser Holly instead.
Loser Holly. I mean — duh? How the hell did that happen?
And — worst of all — Amy now seemed to actually get on with her! What was that — some kind of pity thing? Like looking after a lost puppy?
Sooner we get back to Cherringham and dump Dumpy the better, she thought.
She looked over at Amy — phone out, texting. She watched her for a while, wondering who she was talking to.
Good friends — but recently Amy seemed to be keeping some things secret.
Jasmine felt a shiver of anxiety. Being Amy’s best friend was, well … everything.
She pulled out her water flask and took a big swig.
“So, Holly — you know where we are then?” she said.
“Think so,” said Holly.
“‘Think so’ — not ‘know so’?”
“Well, I’m pretty certain.”
“Now you’re filling me with confidence,” said Jasmine, looking over at Amy for support.
“Hey, easy, Jas. Holly’s done an amazing job so far,” said Amy, putting away her phone at last.
“Not saying she hasn’t,” said Jasmine.
“What do you think, Holly, then?” said Amy. “Another ten miles this afternoon and we’ll be at Shipton Woods, hmm?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Holly.
“Shipton Woods?” said Jasmine. “Never even heard of that ‘beauty spot’.”
“Where we’re going to camp tonight,” said Holly. “Leaves us just about five miles from Cherringham. Easy run in tomorrow.”
“Thank God for that,” said Jasmine. “I could do with a night in a bed.”
“I could do with a day in a spa!” said Amy.
“Hot stone massage!” said Jasmine.
“Bottle of prosecco!” said Amy.
“Roast dinner!” said Holly, joining in.
Jasmine caught Amy’s eye.
Roast dinner? Always with the food!
What planet did Holly live on?
2. Fear of the Dark
“Water break?” said Jasmine, as, one by one, they climbed over a stile set into the dry-stone wall at the side of the little lane.
She reached into her backpack for her water flask and took a long draught.
The last two hours had been tough: single file down muddy, slippery farm tracks, then clambering up and over broad, hilly meadows, every step in the heavy ploughed soil making her legs ache.
She watched Holly take out the map again and check their location.
“Do tell me we’re nearly there,” said Jasmine.
Holly brought over the map, placed a finger on it.
“Here’s us,” she said, tapping the map. “And there’s Cherringham — the other side of the escarpment.”
Jasmine looked to where Holly was now pointing — up across the meadow towards a dark ridge of woods.
“Escarpment?” she said. “Looks like another bloody hill and a cliff to me.”
“Well, technically it’s an escarpment,” said Holly.
“And what’s that?” said Jasmine, tapping a blue patch on the map next to Holly’s “escarpment”.
“Blackwater Lake, it says.”
“Sounds spooky,” said Amy coming to join them, looking down at the map.
“It’s some kind of old gravel pits,” said Holly. “Filled in with water.”
“Can see that,” said Jasmine. “We have to go round it, do we?”
“Not unless you fancy swimming across,” said Holly, laughing.
“Skinny dip it!” said Jasmine.
“No way,” said Amy. “Not in black water — eugh!”
“Monsters of the deep!” said Jasmine.
“I think it’s called Blackwater because it’s so deep,” said Holly. “Not because it’s actually black.”
Jasmine looked at her.
Get a life, Holly, she thought. She saw Holly blink, then look back at the map.
“Anyway, once we get up through the woods there, above the lake, it flattens out so—”
“Hol, is that where’re we going to camp?” said Amy.
“Think … yeah. Far edge of Shipton Woods. Just … there,” said Holly, pointing to a small patch of green in the forest on the map. “Nice and flat at the top. And we’ll be there before dark, time to set up the tents, get a fire going—”
“How very jolly,” said Jasmine, looking across at Amy. “Our last night in paradise.”
She saw Amy fire her a look.
“Just leave me out of the sing-songs, won’t you?” said Jasmine, putting her flask away and tightening her backpack.
Then she set off across the field.
“Come on then,” she called, over her shoulder, not looking back.
Sooner this is over, the better, she thought.
*
Amy grabbed an overhanging mossy branch and dragged herself up the muddy slope, then braced her boot against a tree trunk so she could pull Holly up beside her.
“Nearly there,” she said, smiling at Holly, whose face — sweaty and smeared with mud — looked red hot.
Tough stuff for her.
“Thanks, Amy,” said Holly, bending over to catch her breath. “On the map … looked easier.”
“All this rain,” said Jasmine, stopping up ahead and turning back to them. “Should have been obvious really. Some pathfinder!”