Dead Man on the Beach

By Michael Hope

Skye, on her way down to Devon on holiday, has an accident that causes to lose her memory. On partial recovery she is left with experiencing hallucinations. This helps her to assisting the police in tracking down the murderer of a body she and her friend Maloney find on the beach.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Hope
• Release date: Apr 17, 2016

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DEAD MAN ON THE BEACH

THE ADVENTURES OF SKYE

BOOK TWO

MICHAEL HOPE

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2016 by Michael Hope

All Rights Reserved.

CHAPTER ONE

It was three months before the beginning of the schools summer holiday that the mothers of Skye and Maloney had met to discuss the arrangements they planned in renting a cottage down on the south coast, just outside Sidmouth, in the village of Buckhorn. It was a cottage that both families had jointly rented for the past three years for their three weeks summer holiday. The girls just loved that part of Devon countryside; they had over the years got to know the area quite well, and had made friends with one or two of the village children. To them it was like going home, to there other home as they referred to it. The two girls, both now in their early teens were in a joyful mood as they walked home together from their last day at school. They’d talked about nothing else these last few days, other than what they were going to do once down at the cottage in Buckhorn.

I can’t believe we are off on our hols tomorrow, said Skye.

Me neither, replied Maloney. I’ve done most of my packing.

Me to. I suggest the first thing we do when we get to the cottage is to go for a swim in the sea, the day should be a lot sunnier by the afternoon and the sea warmer.

What a lovely idea! And the last one in has to peel the potatoes for the evening meal, said Maloney, as a challenge.

You are on, said Skye.

Nearing Skye’s house, Maloney could see her mother’s car parked outside. Both looked at each other with utter surprise on their face.

That’s strange, said Maloney, somewhat puzzled What do you think my mother’s doing here? We weren’t all suppose to meet to go down to Devon until tomorrow morning, do you think these’s something wrong?

The only way to find out is to go and see, said Skye.

Both entered the house, making their way down the hall. The girls could hear voices coming from the lounge. When they entered the two mothers were sitting in an armchair facing each other. They stopped talking as the two girls entered the room.

Hallow, you two, greeted Skye’s mother, we were just talking about you, and our holiday. Come sit down. There’s been a slight change of plan.

The two girls exchanged a rather downcast expression as they went and sat down on the settee, wondering, a change of plan, what was to come?

Skye’s mother seeing the girl’s down trodden look quickly continued the conversation. Now, before you say anything let me explain. With all the planning of the holiday, I had completely forgotten, disgraceful I know, that it happens to be your grandmother’s birthday on Saturday, we had agreed months ago that we would visit her to celebrate the big day; after all she’s only seventy once, she said, with a slight smile on her face.

Skye looked at her mother. Of cause we must go; we can’t disappoint grandma. We can go on holiday another time, said with a disappointing edge to her voice.

Now wait a minute, that’s not all. Daddy has only this morning received a telephone call to say that a project he is working on needs his urgent attention; he did tell me where, I believe some town near Northampton. He has to go away on Monday morning on this unexpected business trip, and I unfortunately, shall need to go with him, it’s just for a few days so I’m told.

Skye’s father is a self-employed architect, quite a good one from all accounts. Her mother acts as his secretary from time to time and occasionally when the need arises accompanies him on his business trips.

So what we have agreed, she continued. "Maloney’s mother has offered to drive down to Buckhorn tomorrow as arranged, and open up the cottage. I’ll put you