Free Grave Stones by Priscilla Masters Page A

nervous. Anyway, hope you’ve had a great holiday. You did the right thing getting away. The weather here’s been foul. Love.
    She didn’t need to leave her name. Our nearest and dearest don’t.
    Joanna’s mother was next, reminding her not to forget her nephew’s birthday. ‘You are Daniel’s godmother, Joanna.’ No hope you’ve had a nice holiday or anything pleasant or civilised, Joanna noticed, and she hadn’t forgotten Daniel’s birthday anyway. She pressed delete.
    There were a few more, Tom and Caro inviting them out to supper. ‘They had some great news.’
    And lastly: ‘Hi, Jo.’ Korpanski’s gruff voice. ‘Hope you’ve had a good holiday. No need for you to worry. Everything’s under control. But I thought you’d want to know right away there’s been a murder. Old farmer bashed around the head round about a week ago. Out at Prospect Farm. No one in the picture yet. Cray’s done the PM. Cause of death: head injury caused by one of the stones from the wall. Heavy old thing. Some animals involved. The vet, Beeston, suspects the dog was poisoned and the animals probably died of thirst, basically. One pig seems to have survived. Name of OldSpice. I’ll buy you a drink if you can guess the name of his wife.’ A dry chuckle before he continued. ‘Anyway, see you tomorrow.’ A pause. ‘Umm – I’m looking forward to having you back.’
    Joanna looked at the ring on her finger and touched the black pearl, smooth as milk, an omen. A murder investigation. Straight back into the thick of it. Late nights, broken dates. Total absorption and commitment. And Eloise coming to stay next week. She looked across the room at Matthew. His mouth was straight.
    She lifted her eyebrows and held her hands out in a what-can-I-do? expression, and Matthew’s face didn’t change a bit as he dialled Eloise’s mobile.

Chapter Four
Wednesday, 19 th September. 8.30 a.m.
    Joanna felt frustrated. She’d been looking forward to getting back on her bike after the holiday. Autumn was such a colourful time to ride through the moorlands and the nights would soon be drawing in, the clocks going back and the pleasure of her morning and afternoon trips to and from work would be diminished.
    But now there was a major investigation. And she’d carried out enough major incident cases to know that time was of the essence. No meandering around wobbling on a bicycle like an old-fashioned Plod. The public expected something much more snappy. Also, she might need to use her car during the day. So she reluctantly left her cycling shorts in the drawer and picked out a straight black skirt, black shirt, a scarlet jacket and medium-heeled black shoes. She gave a regretful glance at her paperback, which was sitting on the chair. Charlie Fox would have to suspend activitiesuntil things quietened down a bit. She glanced out of the window. The day looked dull but it felt warm so she didn’t bother with tights. She always laddered them anyway and her legs were quite brown. She slipped the pearl ring on her finger and wondered what Korpanski would say. He could be unpredictable but, of course, distracted by a major investigation, which he had handled for the critical first twenty-four hours, he probably wouldn’t be in the slightest bit interested in her personal life.
    As she brushed her hair she reflected – one good thing about returning to work at full speed was that it was the perfect excuse for delaying telling her mother and sister about their engagement. ‘Too busy, Mum.’ She mouthed the words.
    She and Matthew had a quick breakfast before loading the dishes into the dishwasher. She kissed him goodbye and left.
    Her Honda started the first time like the great little workhorse it was and she was in the station within fifteen minutes, parked in one of the protected lots. Cycling in would have taken her a lot longer. Even discounting the necessary change and shower.
    From the moment she walked in it was easy to tell that things