The Bearded Lady

By Maria Johs

Otis MacGregor faces a slew of troubles. On is way to the Snizort river to do some fishing, he finds the body of a woman by the side of as loch. But having left his cell phone at home, he has no way of calling the police. When a man suddenly appears out of nowhere, offers to call the police , and then disappears, Otis is strangely disconcerted. Who was that man? Was he the killer? If so, why did he stay near the body of his victim? As MacLanahan and Nicholson investigate, they discover that passions swirled around the victim and that more than one man had a motive for killing her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9781467070270

Maria Johs

Maria Johs was born and raised in Germany. She received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology from California State University, Fullerton. She now lives in Colorado.

Book preview

The

Bearded

Lady

Maria Johs

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AuthorHouse™

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This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

© 2011 by Maria Johs. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 10/21/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4670-7031-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-7027-0 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011918884

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them..

Contents

The Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

The Author

Maria Johs was born and raised in Germany. She received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Psychology from California State University, Fullerton. She now lives in Colorado.

Chapter One

On a crisp autumn morning, Otis MacGregor walked slowly, but steadily, on a path that ran parallel to a narrow loch. Stopping occasionally to catch his breath, he gazed into the distance, where he could see the River Snizort fall in cascades over the jagged rocks. Farther up the river, he caught a glimpse of the Cauldron of the Heads, his favorite fishing spot.

He sighed, as the distance to the river seemed longer than he recalled. His old legs could no longer make the trip without a rest. Getting old is for the birds, he mumbled aloud. Although I’m not sure they would agree. No living being wants to get old. It’s just something we have to put up with.

He sat down upon the hard ground and leaned against a rock. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let his mind wander back in time to 1528 and the mortal feud between the MacDonalds and the MacLeods. It might be, he mused, that my mind’s eye would see the battle that was fought over a piece of land called Trotternish. Now the site of a golf course, it once was the battleground upon which a lot of blood ran. The area became known as Achadh na Falan (the Field of Blood). Corpses were washed down the river and accumulated below the falls in a pool known as Coire nan Ceann—(the Cauldron of the Heads).

Otis gave a start and opened his eyes. Well, I can’t catch any fish sitting here daydreaming, he grumbled as he rose and prepared to resume his journey.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked at the dark sheen of water in the loch. Something, he knew, wasn’t right. But it took him a while to comprehend that what he was seeing was out of place and something that he hardly expected to see at the edge of the loch. He approached it carefully. Bending down, he stared at it for some time. When at last he realized that it was a body, neatly wrapped up in a blanket, he gave a stifled cry and stumbled as he made his way to the path.

Knowing he had to walk back to town to notify the police, he wished he hadn’t refused to take the cell phone his wife had bought for him. Don’t be daft, Martha, he had said. Whoever heard of going fishing with a telephone?

Please take it, she’d pleaded. It’s for your protection.

Protection from what?

"If nothing else, it’s your own frailty I’m worried about. You’re not young anymore, you know. You could break a leg, suffer a heart attack, or…

Stop it, woman, he’d said, fiercely. Nothing will happen to me. You’ll see for yourself when I come home with fresh fish for our supper. You might as well return that thing and get your money back.

Regrets, he knew, wouldn’t get him anywhere. As it was a matter of great urgency to get to a phone, he started to walk back to Peartree. He’d taken only a few steps when a man suddenly stood in front of him. The man had stepped, it appeared to Otis, out of nowhere as he hadn’t seen him or anyone else since he came to the loch.

Good morning, the man greeted him pleasantly. Have you caught your limit already?

Hardly, replied Otis grumpily. The only thing I caught this morning… you wouldn’t happen to have one of those cell phones on you, sir?

As a matter of fact I do, said the man. Do you wish to call the missus?

No, I want to call the police, said Otis. Come with me, let me show you something.

The stranger followed Otis to the body. Both men squatted on their heels and stared at it. It’s a good thing I came along, said the man. The police must be notified immediately. He rose, pulled out his cell phone, and had the police on the line in no time at all.

Still staring at the body, Otis paid no attention to what the man said to the police, and when he looked up, the man was gone. Now where the devil did he go to? he mumbled as he stood up., Looking carefully in all directions, he didn’t see anyone. He scratched his head wondering if this had ever happened before. Perhaps there never was a man who came, talked to him, and called the police. Perhaps his imagination was playing tricks on him. And why not, he thought with dismay, everything else in my body is being destroyed by old age, why not the ability to distinguish fact from fiction?

But when he saw two men, who appeared to be policemen, walking toward him, he had an agreeable sense of still being in possession of a sound mind. One of the men was of medium height and stocky. He appeared to be somewhere in his thirties. The other man was tall, slender, and in his late twenties.

Good morning, said the older of the two. I am Detective Chief Inspector MacLanahan, and this is Detective Sergeant Nicholson. You called us about finding a body on the beach?

No, sir, it wasn’t me that called, said Otis. It’s true that I found a body, but I wasn’t the one who called you.

A trifle perplexed, MacLanahan asked, Then who did? I don’t see anyone else here.

He disappeared, said Otis uneasily.

What do you mean, he disappeared?

"Sir, let me tell you who I am and why I’m here. My name is Otis MacGregor. I was on my way to do some fishing in the river up yonder when I saw