A Country Gift Shop Collection: Three cosy crime novels that will keep you guessing!. Vivian ConroyЧитать онлайн книгу.
up from the grass, her hands began to tremble. She stared into those familiar eyes. It was a stunning portrait of the girl who had gone missing over twenty years ago, but somehow more mature, even more commanding in her stark classic beauty. The blonde hair so soft around her face, the eyes a little sad, boring their way straight into the beholder’s heart.
Celine Dobbs’ disappearance had been a life-changing event for the entire town. Also for Vicky herself. Looking out of her window at night seeing the searchlights on the beach where workers combed the caves for a dead body…
Somehow her hometown hadn’t felt the same anymore. Perhaps that had even pushed her to become a foreign correspondent and leave the States altogether. Leave behind a confusing time of insecurity for a whole new life far away. First in Switzerland, then in the UK.
Frowning, Vicky read the thick black letters above the photograph: Missing girl’s twin: Reopen case.
So it was not Celine in the picture.
No, of course not, how could it have been? Celine had vanished at nineteen. This woman was of Vicky’s own age, but still with that ageless beauty that had made the Dobbs twins legendary in the area. This had to be…
Vicky dug through her memories. What had Celine’s sister been called?
Diane?
Yes, her name was in the piece below. Diane Dobbs.
Vicky held the paper up to Claire. “Didn’t Diane leave for Europe to study there?”
Claire nodded. “Got married there, has kids.”
Vicky ignored her mother’s reference to her favorite topic of marriage and babies and asked, “Why would she suddenly want to revisit the little town where her family was torn apart? Her likeness to her vanished sister will cause a stir.”
“A sensation is more like it, and that’s exactly what they want.” Claire crossed her arms over her chest, her chin up in a challenging gesture.
“They?” Vicky queried. She studied the large photograph again. “Is Diane doing this for her parents? I suppose it doesn’t get any easier to live with when people get older, have time on their hands to think about it.”
She searched the facial expression, the eyes, of the woman in the photograph as if those could give away the reasons for this rather desperate action. After all, after so long a time all evidence, if there had been any, had to be gone.
Did Diane really think people would remember something? That someone would suddenly come forward with new information to support her request to reopen the case?
Scanning the article to look for the vital paragraph on what kind of new information was wanted, Vicky’s gaze descended on the byline.
Interview by Michael Danning.
Another shock went through her, worse almost than the one before. “Michael Danning wrote this article?” Had he visited Diane in Europe?
No, this picture was taken in Glen Cove. Vicky recognized the iconic lighthouse in the background.
Claire huffed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know he was back in town.”
“Michael back in town? Here in Glen Cove? Why would he come back here when…”
“When we all know he abducted and killed Celine.” Claire leaned back on her heels. Her prim nod underlined her harsh words.
Vicky shuddered at the thought such talk would get around town. “Mom, you can’t call someone an abductor or a killer before he is actually convicted. And even then people do get convicted for crimes they didn’t commit.”
Vicky clutched the paper. Michael’s fate if he had ever been forced to go to trial had been on her mind every now and then over the years. When a story hit the news about someone getting accused of a crime and trying to clear his or her name. Or when a story hit about someone having spent time in jail and then the true culprit getting arrested, based on DNA evidence for instance. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be locked up and know you were innocent but had no way of ever proving it.
She said with difficulty, “A lot of people worked hard at the time to make sure Michael got smeared, but there was never enough evidence to take the case to trial.”
“Because there was no body found.” Claire held her gaze. “That was Danning’s smartest move. They couldn’t prove murder, as they could never establish Celine did die. But how could she still be alive? Do you believe a daughter is so heartless she would never let her parents know what happened to her? That she is just living her life someplace not caring for how her own family feels?”
Vicky pursed her lips. It didn’t seem likely.
Claire said, “You only came back here to see Michael Danning again. I knew from the moment you told me about your return.”
Vicky tried to scoff. “I had no idea he was out here. You sure didn’t tell me, and who else would have? How long has he been here anyway? He and Diane? All those times we talked on the phone or you wrote to me, and not a word about either of them.”
“Diane hasn’t been here long,” Claire protested.
“That’s not the point,” Vicky said. “You even called me to tell me a neighbor painted his garden gate yellow.”
“Canary yellow. Quite hard on the eyes.”
“Mom! Celine’s disappearance is the biggest thing that ever happened in Glen Cove. Why would your friends not talk about it? Pam just called to say Roberts is selling his place. She must also have called to tell you about Michael’s return, Diane’s, and this whole thing about the disappearance case being reopened, right?” Vicky tapped on the paper’s headline. “You knew and yet you never mentioned it to me.”
Anger rushed through her, pushing her happy expectations for her gift shop away. How could her mother have stayed silent about something as important as this?
“Reopening the case, hah!” Claire grimaced. “That’s just what Michael Danning is printing in that paper of his. It’s what the both of them want, not what will happen.”
Vicky tilted her head. Her mother’s tone intrigued her. “How can you be so sure?”
Claire marched to the gate. “They should have left it alone. Everybody had forgotten about it. We don’t want it all dragged up again.”
She waved a hand in the air. “You were questioned by the police at the time. My only daughter, questioned by the police.” The indignation was thick in her voice like it had been a personal slight she couldn’t forget.
“Everybody in college was questioned,” Vicky protested. “It had nothing to do with me personally. They were just trying to find clues to that mystery man Celine was allegedly meeting. But nobody had ever seen him or could give a clear description of him.”
“Because he doesn’t exist. He was just some fabrication of Danning’s to shift the blame. He killed Celine.”
“You don’t know that so please stop saying it.”
Claire continued as if she had not heard Vicky’s protestations, “Now that you have left London behind and come to live here for good, you will go work at the Gazette. What else would you do with your time? You’re a reporter, a good one; you love your work. You’re not going to sit on your hands. You’re not going to Monday afternoon bingo or whatever else they think up around here for people who have nothing to do all day long.”Claire’s hand tightened on the gate. “You’re young and ambitious. You can’t fool me that you suddenly want to do something else, outside of the reporting world. No, this was all a setup from the start. You’re on your way now to the Gazette’s building, to see Michael Danning about freelance assignments. Or maybe even about a part-time job there? You have enough experience; he might take you on for that. But I’m telling you it’s a bad idea. That paper is dead, has