The Death of Digby Catch

By Amy Spector

It’s more than eighteen years since August Catch’s Uncle Digby disappeared to the Cape to mourn the death of his sister. So when August arrives at Arachne’s Loom to collect his late uncle’s things, he isn’t expecting to find stories of a man larger than life. Or the very real possibility that Digby’s death may not have been from natural causes.

Theo Webb has had few people in his life he loved, and fewer still he can trust. But the estate groundskeeper, Digby Catch, was one of them. Returning home for Digby’s funeral, Theo is thrown together with Digby’s nephew, and the attraction is instant. But so is Theo’s certainty that things surrounding Digby’s death don’t add up, and at least one person isn’t telling the truth.

Discovering a killer is difficult when someone is desperate to keep more than just their identity a secret. And when all the clues point in one direction, even Theo isn’t sure what to think. He and August must work together if they’re going to solve a murder, and not let the thing growing between them be a distraction.

But then, maybe a distraction is exactly what they need.

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: May 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685501310

Amy Spector

Amy Spector grew up in the United States surviving on a steady diet of old horror movies, television reruns, and mystery novels.After years of blogging about comic books, vintage Gothic romance book cover illustrations, and a shameful amount about herself, she decided to try her hand at writing stories. She found it more than a little like talking about herself in third person, and that suited her just fine.She blames Universal for her love of horror, Edward Gorey for her love of British drama, and writing for awakening the romantic that was probably there all along.Amy lives in the Midwest with her husband and children, and her cats Poe, Goji and Nekō.

Book preview

The Death of Digby Catch

By Amy Spector

Published by JMS Books LLC

Visit jms-books.com for more information.

Copyright 2022 Amy Spector

ISBN 9781685501310

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Cover Design: Amy Spector

All rights reserved.

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

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Thank you to Ally, Holly, Kristin, and Nell for inviting me to play.

And a special thanks to Leonie and Kathy. You both rock!

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The Death of Digby Catch

By Amy Spector

Chapter 1

The rain had slowed the procession of cars winding their way to the gravesite to a mournful crawl. It was fitting. Not only because it was a funeral, but because the weather was as overly dramatic as Digby Catch had always been.

If August’s uncle could have ordered up the weather for his big day, rain would have definitely been at the top of his list, and Digby would have been looking down, thrilled at the picture-perfect scene of his mourners soaked to the skin.

Not that August was the type to kid himself. There was nothing after this life. And even if there was, there was no chance his uncle was in heaven.

The car ahead of him—something expensive with dark windows—pulled off to the side of the path, and August did the same, throwing his rental car into park and unfolding himself from the front seat.

A few dozen yards away, a small crowd had already gathered under the green awning set up to shield the casket. An unlucky few, those spilling out into the elements, were prepared for the weather, and held umbrellas or wore wide-brimmed hats.

August didn’t have an umbrella. Or a hat. He considered himself lucky to have had a pair of black pants and a black button-up in his carry-on when he’d gotten the call.

He’d been at the Atlanta airport, forty-five minutes away from boarding his flight back home, when his cell phone rang.

Mr. Catch, I’m afraid I have some terrible news.

He’d exchanged his ticket for the next available flight to Massachusetts. And when he’d landed in Boston, grabbed one of the few rental cars left on the lot and drove the last hundred miles.

He’d made the Cape just as the sky was opening up.

The green fabric covering the ground around his uncle’s casket was damp, and with each step, August could feel the wet seeping into his shoes.

He found his place in a spot reserved for family, separated from the others by a crimson braided rope held up by brass poles. August was the only family that would be there. He was the only family left.

He stared down at the mahogany box for a very long time, regretting he and his uncle’s last conversation, and fought the urge to rub at his chest.

I could use the help. And you could use the money.

Digby, I have a job.

Yeah, but the money here’s better, so’s the view. Besides, I’ll need someone to take over in a few years.

I get to see horses every day.

You still haven’t met my chipmunk.

Eventually, he pulled his eyes away, looked up, and caught the man across from him watching. Dirty-blond hair, light eyes, looking perfectly put together in a dark, tailored suit. He could have fallen from the pages of a GQ article about how to dress if you wanted to get laid after a funeral.

August found it unnerving that the stranger didn’t look away, instead taking his time to study him, a look on his face August couldn’t quite read, before giving him the briefest nod and leaning over to whisper something to a woman at his side. She was older than the man. Maybe fifteen years, if August was to guess. A tired forty. But then, August was sure he looked tired too. Funerals had a tendency to do that to a person.

The blonde woman, who’d been deep in conversation with someone on her other side, glanced over, and the look he got then was one August did recognize. He’d been getting that same look from women since he’d hit a growth spurt at seventeen.

He was relieved when a priest appeared at the head of the coffin, and everyone’s attention shifted.

Thank you for joining us today as we commit Digby Catch to his place of rest, as he awaits the Lord’s resurrection.

As the priest spoke, giving his condolences and reading scripture from a small book he held, the rain began to slow down to a drizzle, and after a long while stopped altogether.

The burial service was all very Catholic. August’s uncle had not been Catholic. The closest to religion he ever got was when he was cursing August to hell. But then, maybe Digby had