I'll Take What's Mine

By Milly Reynolds

The past comes back to haunt one of Mike Malone's well-loved friends in this latest Lincolnshire mystery. When events take a disturbing turn, Mike and his loyal Detective Sergeant Alan Shepherd are faced with a problem. They have no idea where to look and so Mike has to rely on one of his tried and trusted, and unorthodox methods to solve the problem. Once again join Mike, Alan as well as all the other well loved characters in this little market town that seems to attract crime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Milly Reynolds
• Release date: Jul 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005249397

Milly Reynolds

As you may have already guessed, Milly Reynolds is not my real name. Like my 'hero' Detective Inspector Mike Malone, I also hide my real identity. Having 'retired' from my job, I was a full-time teacher in a secondary school, I decided to pursue my dream of becoming a writer. So why Mike Malone? I love all things detective and wanted to create my own series. However, I decided not to go for the deep, dark thriller - I could never compete with the masters of that genre, like Jo Nesbo whose books I adore? Therefore I came to the decision that the Mike Malone series would be off-beat. I like to think that there is humour in my books; I don't want to scare people, I want to make them chuckle - there is not enough laughter in the world at the moment. As the series has progressed, I have become very attached to Mike; he is the comfortable pair of slippers that I put on at night. My husband has also become attached to Fi and I am under strict instructions not to let anything happen to her - yet. Living in Lincolnshire, I love the flat, endless landscapes and want these to be seen in my books alongside places that I know and love. Mike Malone has moved from the city to Lincolnshire and has fallen in love with the place; me, I was born here and can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. However, although Mike was my first creation, he is not the only one. I have also created Jack Sallt, another Detective Inspector. Jack is grittier than Mike and there is not the humour in his stories that there is in the Mike Malone stories. I wanted to write a more 'grown-up' detective story. When time allows this will be developed into a series as well. With two male detectives under my wing, I also decided that it was time for the girls to take centre stage and 'Scorpion's Tale', my first novel featuring Liv Harris, a character in the Jack Sallt novels, was published in 2013. I am hoping that Liv will make another appearance at some point in the future. Not content with crime, I have also wandered into the realms of romance; my first stand-alone novel 'The Unseen Sky' was published August 2011. I'm lucky, I enjoy writing and find it just as relaxing to sit and create as it is to read, although sometimes a good book can get in the way of my writing. I read on average 50/60 books a year and always keep my blog updated with reviews. Anyway, I hope you like my novels. I have fun coming up with ideas for Mike -...

Book preview

Prologue

Mark Carter scanned the saltmarsh with his binoculars. Even though the temperatures were supposed to be eight degrees, here on the sea bank the wind was always keen and he was glad he had put that extra t-shirt on under his clothes. It helped - a little. This was his quiet place, the time to think and be alone. After Tilly’s death nearly a year ago, he had found solace here. He might only have known her for three weeks, but the bond that they had formed … He had been shattered and the reserve and the birds had slowly put him back together. He turned towards the steps, it was time to get back to the Visitor Centre and a cup of coffee. He hadn’t seen the waxwings yet today, so he’d have a look around for those on his way back. It was always good to point things out to visitors.

A young woman that Mark recognised was waiting at the bottom of the steps for him to descend; she had been visiting on and off since Christmas, always on her own. She didn’t look to be a hardened bird-watcher; her binoculars were basic, from what he had seen, and she didn’t wear the birder’s uniform of stout walking books and waxed jackets. She wore pink wellies, a tweed style jacket, a huge scarf and a woollen hat from which her brunette hair was escaping. As he approached her, he wondered who she was.

It’s cold up there today, he said as he drew level with her. You’ll need that scarf.

She looked at him, smiled but said nothing. He watched her ascend the stairs and start to walk along the bank before setting off for the centre and his coffee. Therefore he didn’t see her turn around and watch him, he didn’t see her raise her binoculars so she could see him more clearly.

Mark! Bev Hodges called him over as soon as he put a toe inside the centre. Bev had been an intern on the reserve for the first half of last year but was now one of his regular volunteers. She had fallen in love with the area and had found herself a part time job which allowed her to spend two or three days a week at the reserve. He often wondered how she managed as he guessed that her job was just paying the minimum wage and her rent must take all of that. Still, that was her business, not his.

Let me just get a coffee, Bev, to warm up my fingers.

He popped a plastic cup under the machine and waited. The centre was empty this morning, not surprising as there were never too many visitors during the week, especially this time of year. With the cup finally in his hands, he began to feel his fingers coming back to life and joined Bev at the small reception desk.

So, what’s the problem? He took a sip of coffee and felt its warmth sliding down his throat.

Your radio was switched off.

Was it? Mark put his coffee down and checked. He’d forgotten to switch it on. Sorry.

The reedbed hide - a chap reported that someone’s left a mattress and blankets in there.

You’re joking.

That’s what he said.

Mark downed his coffee in one and stormed out of the centre. The last thing the reserve needed was someone deciding to use it as a place to sleep. There had been no one there last night when he had locked up, certainly no mattress. He stopped and thought, had it been unlocked this morning when he got there? He had no idea, he had just gone through the motions of unlocking it, he’d been on automatic pilot. He had never even bothered to check inside either when he had unlocked it - there was no reason to. In future he would have to take more notice. But whoever it was must have walked for miles just to get to the place - the reserve was hardly on a bus route - and then they must have forced the lock. So, this looked like another job for him to do! He reached the hide and as he had suspected, the lock had been forced. How had he missed that? Luckily the wood hadn’t split, it would just be a matter of replacing the lock. He opened the door and there, spread out underneath the painted wall was, as Bev had reported, a mattress. A couple of plastic bags were placed on top of it. He looked around. So where was this person? He hadn’t seen anyone on the reserve this morning except for the silent young woman with the brunette hair. He hadn’t spotted anyone walking along the sea bank. There was no one in the centre. Where had he vanished to? At the end of the day though, he didn’t care where the chap had gone. What mattered was getting rid of this stuff and making sure that he didn’t stay there again. As he bent down and started to roll up the mattress, he knocked one of the plastic bags over and muttered to himself as he glanced quickly at the debris spilling out of it; bottles of drink, a couple of packets of biscuits and …. He dropped the mattress and looked again. What was that doing there? Why would someone carry a large photo album around with them? He opened it and quickly closed it again as familiar eyes looked out at him from the page. Fred Greengrass! Why would someone be carrying around a photo album with Fred Greengrass in it? He pulled out his phone and left a message at the station. The police might know this person and they would definitely be interested in the connection to Fred. Behind him, Mark heard the door to the hide open and had just started to rise when he felt a searing pain in the back of his head before everything went black.

1

Audrey Rice held her left hand out in front of her and gazed adoringly at the sapphire and diamond cluster engagement ring on her third finger. Nick had kept the secret all over Christmas and New Year. He had waited until her birthday to drop to one knee and propose. The ring was a family piece, it had been his great grandmother’s and his mother had passed it onto him the first time that she had met Audrey. A mother’s intuition, Audrey thought. It was a beautiful and special piece of jewellery and symbolised not only Nick's commitment to her but his family’s wish for her to join them. Her one regret was that Tilly was not there to share her joy; she still missed her friend every day. She pulled on her coat although she doubted that she would get a lot of work done today - she would be too busy looking at her ring.

Nick Flowers looked like the cat with all the cream as everyone congratulated him on his engagement. I was pleased for the lad, and for Audrey. They made a very nice couple and Audrey had been the steadying influence that Nick had needed. He was still the life and soul of the station, but he seemed more focused now that Audrey was in his life. He was even studying for his sergeant’s exams, he had found ambition. From the corner of my eye, I saw Shepherd emerging from the break room with two mugs and headed back to my office. Christmas and New Year had been quiet at the station, no dramas. As for my own Christmas, it was magical. David was now fully into the idea of Santa and his face on Christmas morning was wonderful. At just over eighteen months, little Katy was still heavily into cardboard boxes, preferring to clamber into them rather than play with the toys that they had contained. The highlight had been Alan’s gift to Cat, the portrait that he had commissioned from Raul was truly stunning. The artist’s technique was to use two sides of the same person in one painting, the public and the private. It was truly breathtaking and Cat had broken down in tears. In fact she had sobbed so much that Alan had thought he had made a huge mistake, but far from it, she had been so overwhelmed that he had done this for her, she hadn’t known how to respond, so she had just cried. I had spotted Fi looking at me from the corner of her eye after examining the painting. Did that mean that I had to get her portrait painted now? I’d need to start saving.

Let’s hope that we have another quiet day, lad. I took my mug from him and settled down.

Sorry to disagree with you, but I could do with a day of chasing criminals. I’ve put on far too much weight over Christmas and sitting here is not helping me to shift it.

Winter is not the time for dieting. Wait till spring or summer.

Like you do, Shepherd laughed.

Stop mocking, it takes a lot of work to keep my body looking like this.

I’m sure Fi would agree with you.

As if on cue, Grayson knocked on the door. Mark Carter wonders if you have time to pop over to the reserve to see him, Sir. He has found something that he needs you to see.

Did he say what, Grayson?

No, Sir.

Ok, thanks. I picked up my mug again. Well, lad, it looks as if you are going to get your exercise after all.

There’s nothing like a bracing walk on the sea bank.

Yes, I’m really looking forward to that! I wonder what Mark found that’s so important.

Mark started to open his eyes slowly. He remembered going into the hide, he remembered the photo album and then nothing. What had happened? His head felt sore, heavy, but there was a softness as well. He focused on a gentle face staring down at him. The brunette.

You might need stitches, she said softly. It’s stopped bleeding. I would get it looked at.

What happened? Her eyes were a soft hazel and shone with such kindness that he felt safe and comforted. It was as if he had fallen into a magical place that he never wanted to leave.

I came in and you were just lying here. You must have fallen.

No, I … Mark tried to remember but his mind just kept returning to a dark room so he tried to sit up instead. Thank you.

You’ll be fine now. Just take it easy and get your head looked at.

His good samaritan got to her feet, leaving her fragrance behind her and started to walk towards the door.

What’s your name? he called as the door of the hide closed. Who are you?

The walk to the hide was actually quite pleasant. On my left I could see various ducks in the water and on my right I could hear birdsong. It was easy to see what attracted people to birdwatching, just to escape and be surrounded by nature like this was special. There seemed to be very few, if any one about, as on our walk we had met only one young