A Blue Moon

By Elsabe Smit

A woman gets arrested for the murder of her friend based on flimsy evidence.
Then the murdered woman returns and leaves solid evidence as well as hints with various people, including a hard-nosed detective and his solicitor friend, who finally put their doubts aside.
An international drug ring is broken up with the help of a naughty ghost, and the lives of all involved are changed irrevocably.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elsabe Smit
• Release date: Apr 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463380369

Elsabe Smit

Elsabe Smit is a well-known international coach, facilitator, author, and public speaker that uses her clairvoyant and intuitive skills in her daily life to assist all of those that she comes into contact with, in her professional life.She has an MBA (Master Business Administration), a MA in Industrial Psychology, and extensive experience as a Business Analyst. Using all her knowledge, skills and competencies, Elsabe helps people to understand the mysteries of life and Love, so that they can regain control of their lives.Elsabe Smit was born and raised in South Africa and has lived in Ireland, South Africa and the UK since 2000.After years of facing numerous personal challenges, involving her relationship with her drug- and alcohol-addicted mother, living with and getting divorced from an abusive husband, being a single mother, being a mistress for a period of time, and then facing unemployment, she one day realized that she had been given the amazing gift of intuition and clairvoyance.Using her newly discovered gifts, she then rediscovered herself. She learned that all her past experiences, "good" and "bad", were only steppingstones on her life's blueprint towards loving and accepting herself.Having always having had a keen interest in human behavior, this discovery took her on a different path, adding the study of life, death and spirituality to her interests. During that journey she explored NLP and embraced Quantum Physics. Elsabe studied some of the world's best acknowledged researchers and gurus in the fields of relationships, health and business.During her professional life Elsabe's career included lecturing at a South African University, being a Human Resources Manager various companies and being a freelance business analyst.In between the various permanent positions and contracts, she developed her reputation as a sought-after author, speaker, facilitator, coach and mentor.As an author, some of her books are today still in use as prescribed textbooks for university and college students in South Africa. Other books have been published and are available on your favorite e-book site, and some books have been published as e-books which she shares as free gifts.As a speaker, facilitator and trainer she has presented numerous programmes to groups ranging from a dozen to hundreds of people. The subject matter has been as varied and interesting as her life.As a mentor, she coached and mentored small business owners, blue-chip executives and employees covering a myriad of professions, employment levels and industries.Don't forget her contribution to the world of psychics. She's been on various radio and TV shows with international audiences. In addition, Elsabe has done thousands of personal psychic readings for people from all walks of life located in various countries - including one for a death row inmate in a US prison.Throughout her life Elsabe has been passionately focused on identifying the nuances that make a difference in people lives, the why's of birth, life and death - and now it's your turn to tap into the vast wealth of knowledge and experiences that she has gained during her lifetime, so that like Elsabe ...YOU can also Discover yourself and Love YOUR Life.

Book preview

A Blue Moon

Elsabe Smit

Published By Elsabe Smit

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2019 Elsabe Smit

Visit my website at http://www.ElsabeSmit.com

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. I am not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

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

About the Author

More From This Author

Connect With Me

Chapter One

The sound of Abba’s Dancing Queen drifts through the closed windows into the street. A light snow is falling, slowly as if in a dream. The windscreens and roofs of the cars are slowly changing color and disappearing under the snow.

A light wind is drifting the snow towards the front of the house. The footpath is already a spooky white, shining in the light of the street lamp.

The door of the house opens. A beautiful girl in a miniskirt, revealing top and high-heeled sandals appears in the light at the front door. She laughs loudly, snuggles into her coat and turns back to shout at someone inside the house. She gets a boisterous response, laughs loudly again and walks towards a car.

Her foot slips on the snow. She mutters, regaining her balance and focusing on every step.

After quickly rubbing her bare hands and with cold fingers fumbling with the keys, she gets into the car.

The car engine sounds like a humming bee in the moonlit landscape. She rests her forehead on the steering wheel. Slowly the warmth of her coat and the heating in the car brings the life back into her limbs. She wipes tears from her eyes and changes to first gear.

All her focus is on the road. She is aware that it is slippery, and this has a sobering effect. She drives slowly, aware that any quick movement could cause the car to skid. She curses under her breath, promising herself that next time she will refuse that last drink.

At last she turns into a narrow street. There is only one parking space left by another car, a black hole in a white landscape. She manages to park the car and gets out.

She carefully tests the sidewalk, then walks on as fast as she can with high-heeled sandals. Her footsteps thud in the eerie silence of the street.

There are a few lights on, blotted out by thick curtains, in various windows.

Her frozen fingers struggle to put the key into the lock in the dark. The light bulb has gone again. Then the door opens and there is a welcoming warmth inside. When she closes the door and switches the light on, it stings her weary eyes.

On her way to the kitchen, she kicks off the sandals and steps into an old pair of slippers lying in the dining room.

She takes out a bottle of wine from the fridge, and pours a glass. A large gulp of wine warms her inside. She refills the glass and carries the bottle with her to the lounge. There she flops onto the couch and places the wine bottle on the floor.

The television blares out one Christmas song after another. Do they not have anything other than bloody Christmas jingles? she asks the room. The last channel has some drama about lost love and Christmas. She stares at the screen, not taking in anything, and lets the melancholy wash over her.

She is not even aware of refilling the glass until she notices that the bottle is empty. What the hell, she thinks. I'll get another one. She now feels warm enough to remove her coat, but is too drowsy to move.

* * * *

A sharp, irritating buzz pierces her sleep. She tries to turn away from it, but the pain in her neck intensifies. She sits up, then lies back on the couch again. There’s the buzz again. She groans and tries to get more comfortable on the couch.

Realization dawns. It's the doorbell. She stumbles on her bare feet to the door, drawing the coat she had used as a blanket, tight around her.

She tries to read her watch, but the hall light seems too sharp. The doorbell rings again.

Will you bloody well stop it, I'm on my way she shouts.

She fumbles with the security chain, can't seem to get it in place and decides to just open the door so that the doorbell will stop ringing.

The two figures on the doorstep appear menacing in the dim light from the street. She steps back and tries to close the door, then hears the word police. A veil lifts from her mind. Then they are inside the house with her.

Are you Miss Amanda Boucher? the tall officer asks. A coldness grips her insides. This is real. She is awake.

Yes. Yes, I am. What is this about? What's happened?

Miss Boucher, were you at 10 Davinia Street last night? She glances at her watch. Now the face is clear. Four fifteen in the morning. Something is very wrong here.

Yes, I was, but I left early. Why?

At what time did you leave? the policewoman asks.

I don’t remember. I guess it was around eleven. I don’t know. Please tell me what's going on!

Miss Boucher, can you possibly be more specific? Why do you think it was eleven o’clock when you left? Was it before or after eleven?

Mandy closes her eyes. The thudding in her head becomes louder. Her stomach turns. She tries to lick her lips, but her tongue is thick and dry.

I can't remember. I can't think. Can I get you some coffee?

Not now. This is important. Did anyone leave before you?

Not that I can remember. When I left, everybody was still having a good time.

Then why did you leave?

I was tired and wanted to be home. Look, what is this about? I am not answering any more questions until you tell me what it's about.

Miss Boucher, do you know a girl called Joanne?

Yes, I know her. Mandy said, frowning.

Do you know her well?

No, we never had that much in common. What about her?

She was found dead in the house you were at last night.

Oh my God! What happened?

That, Miss Boucher, is what we are trying to find out. Her body was found shortly after you left. And your bag was found next to her. What was it doing there?

My bag? No, it can’t be my bag. It's right here. Mandy reaches for her brown bag on the floor.

Miss Boucher, do you own a black patent leather bag with white trimmings?

Yes, I do, but I didn't have it with me last night. I had this bag with me.

Then your black patent leather bag is here in the house?

Of course. It's in my bedroom.

Could you please fetch it for us?

Yes, I can, but why should I? I'm very tired, and when I left she was still alive. What do you want from me?

If you could just fetch the bag for us, we can let you go back to sleep. The policewoman smiled at Mandy.

OK, whatever. Mandy leaves the lounge, walking up the stairs and picking up some stray underwear as she goes.

She remembers that the bag is somewhere in the wardrobe. Probably with the shoes. Not there. Behind the bed, then. Sometimes things fall off and she doesn’t notice. Not there either.

Now she is wide awake, with a splitting headache. She opens drawers, and stretches over to look behind the dressing table. With a pounding heart, she tries to think where it could possibly be.

I have no reason to be scared she tells herself. I'm innocent. That bag is here somewhere. Think, Mandy! Think when you last had it.

Then the short police officer appears in the door.

Did you find the bag, Miss Boucher?

No, but it must be here somewhere. I am telling you, I didn’t have it with me last night.

Then we need to take you to the police station. We have a bag there and we believe it's yours.

"This is not happening to me.