Read Murder on the Tor: An Exham on Sea Cosy Mystery (Exham on Sea Cosy Crime Mysteries Book 3) for Free Online Page A

and pencil skirt, though. “Are you wearing my clothes?”
    Mandy swore, kicked off a pair of six inch Jimmy Choo’s, the only pair of designer shoes Libby owned, and rubbed a bright red spot on her toe joint. “Blimey, how do you wear these babies, Mrs F? They’re giving me bunions.”
    “Those shoes are strictly ‘car to bar.’ I’ve never tried to walk any distance in them. I just tottered across the road, sat down for dinner, and limped back to the car. Best with tights and some of those gel pads, by the way, for future reference.”
    The shoes hadn’t seen the light of day for years. Trevor, Libby’s late husband, hadn’t frequented bars. At least, she amended, he hadn’t taken Libby. She’d recently realised she hadn’t known Trevor at all, for under his respectable insurance salesman front, he’d been part of a web of fraud. His role had been laundering money through property deals. Libby winced, remembering some of the lies he’d told.
    Mandy was talking. “Does that mean I get to wear the shoes again?”
    “A little out of character for a Goth, aren’t they?”
    “I suppose. Anyway, I don’t wear tights. Well, not those flesh-coloured things.” Mandy’s leg-wear was restricted to thick, black tights. “Me toes are all, like, screwed up. Look.” She hoisted a bare foot on to the table top.
    Libby shrieked. “Don’t do that. I’ll lose my five star food hygiene certificate.”
    “Only if an inspector happens to look in the window, and if they’re snooping about at this time of night, we’ll call Max’s son, grumpy Detective Sergeant Joe.”
    Libby shooed Mandy out of the kitchen into the living room, wiping the table with Dettol on the way. The girl stood in the hall, hopping from one bare foot to the other. “Don’t you want to know how I got on, then?”
    “I’m beside myself. Judging by your face, it went well.”
    “They loved me, Jumbles did. Ate all the chocs, told me I did you credit, and said you were to give me a raise.”
    “Oh, yeah?”
    “Maybe not the last bit. But they’ve put in an order. Look.”
    Mandy extracted a crumpled sheet of paper from her bag. A column of figures marched down the page and Libby whistled. “This is easily the biggest order we’ve had yet.”
    “It’s not just for now, either. They want to try these out for starters, and if they sell, they want a repeat every month.”
    “Mandy!” Libby collapsed onto the sofa, infuriating her marmalade cat. Fuzzy stalked away and slunk upstairs to hide in the airing cupboard. “Can we do it? Fulfill the order, I mean?”
    Dates and preparation times swirled round Libby’s head. She sat up, taking a deep, steadying breath. “Of course, we can. Now, I’ll need your help. I’ve got a proposition. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about setting up an apprenticeship.”
    “What? You mean, like, official? With qualifications and everything?”
    “Absolutely.”
    Mandy whooped, threw her arms in the air and jigged round the room, giggling. At last, breathless, she flopped backwards over the arm of a chair, leaving her bare feet dangling. “When do I start? Frank’s taken on a couple of new girls, so he won’t mind me moving across to the chocolate side of the business.”
    “In a week. That’ll give me time to get the paperwork done.”
    Libby darted back to the kitchen, retrieved a bottle of chilled New Zealand Chardonnay from the fridge and poured two large glasses. “Don’t gulp, sip,” Libby insisted, as Mandy took a huge mouthful. “We’re going to be busy, supplying Jumbles as well as the bakery. Are you up for it?”
    “Watch me. Oh, nearly forgot. Your iPad’s been dinging. Can’t you turn the noise off?”
    “Haven’t got round to it.” The machine was new and Libby hadn’t got to grips with it. She flipped up the cover and checked her emails, finding one from Max, headed The Beads. “He’s sent photos. How do I open them?”
    “Just tap.” Mandy emptied her glass and