Murder On Bwytheney by Elizabeth. Newby (phonics story books TXT) 📗

I now had, I could order the adoption certificate and discover the truth. It would take a few days to arrive in the post, but I was now in touching distance of finding out what happened.

An hour later, I was letting myself back into Dan’s flat.

“Well?” he said as he tapped the sofa next to him.

I accepted the invitation and sat down, hugging one of the cushions to my stomach. "The bit that's confused everyone is how Melissa and Pete are connected."

“Uh-huh.”

"Well, at Melissa's funeral, I discovered that she had a child in secret back in 1994. She went to stay with a friend in Liverpool, gave birth to a baby boy and then returned to the island with nobody the wiser.”

“Oh, wow. That’s quite a discovery.”

“Sure was. But I also finally got to interview Pete a few days before he was murdered and discovered he was adopted.”

“Right…”

“Today, I ordered his adoption certificate. He was also born in 1994. I know it’s a long shot, but my gut’s telling me Pete is Melissa’s child.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s all that much of a long shot. It’s quite the coincidence that a woman on Bwytheney gives a child up in 1994, and then a man who's been adopted that year moves onto the island. I mean, what are the chances of that?"

“Thanks.”

“What for?”

“For reassuring me that I’m not going mad, ha. We’ll know more once the certificate arrives next week.”

“So, what does this have to do with land-grabbing, Mr Albright?"

“Well, if he killed Melissa, it was because she doesn't have any family to take over the campsite. It would be put up for sale.  But suppose he found out that there was a son, and he was back on the island. I mean, I know adopted children don't inherit stuff from their birth parents, but as Pete was on Bwytheney, maybe he was scared Melissa had left it to him, in which case it probably wouldn't go up for sale. If that was Pete, then he would have taken over running it.”

"It makes sense, I suppose. Although he must be really desperate for that land. Do we know anything about the will or what’s happening to the campsite? I mean, would he really kill someone on the off chance that they MIGHT be in the will? Sorry…I’m just thinking aloud.”

“Her child was in her will. I don’t know the details, but her friend Pam is dealing with it all. That’s who she stayed with when she had the baby.”

“Okay, but who owns the campsite now?”

“I don’t know. Pam just said she was sorting stuff out there.”

“You mean she’s there now? Staying at the campsite?”

“Yes…no…no, he wouldn’t?”

Chapter 17

I scrambled in my bag to find my phone. The screen was again full of notifications from the blog. Was it too late? Had something already happened? I rang the number of the campsite, but it clicked over to answer the phone. I tried again and again. Still, no one picked up. I had no choice but to leave a message, “Pam, this is Cara. I know this sounds totally crazy, but I think you’re in danger. You need to get out of there and go to mine. There’s a key underneath the pot inside the garden shed. I’ll explain tomorrow. Please keep safe.”

“You left a message?”

“What else was I going to do? Oh wow, look at all these notifications.” I scrolled through them on my phone screen. “Looks like they’ve kicked off on my blog again.” I opened my laptop, and the screen lit up. Under the new blog post, there was a bunch of new comments.

“You have comments on approval, right?” said Dan.

“You can do that?”

“Jeez, Cara. Yes. Okay, now this is spooky…”

Peering over my shoulder, Dan was also reading the comments left by someone calling themselves WakeUpNordIsles2021.

“The two murder victims were related.”

“Nord Isle Living – it’s down to you to investigate. I tipped off the police, and they've done nothing.”

“You need to find out what happened in 1994.”

“Find the person who did this.”

“It’s time for the truth to come out.”

These comments were interspersed with the usual retorts from trolls suggesting everyone on the islands were related. Usually, I would have deleted the lot, putting WakeUpNordIsles2021 down as a crank too. However, with the research I was doing, it only strengthened my theory and proved that others knew the truth.

“Give me that,” said Dan. He walked off towards the guest bedroom and his computers, muttering something about IP addresses and other things I didn't understand.

I followed him and flopped onto the bed, and lay back. “This is total madness.”

Dan didn't reply. Instead, he just kept tapping away on his computer, looking back and forth to my blog. I lay there in silence, trying to empty my mind.

“WakeUpNordIsles2021 is someone on Bwytheney. The other comments come from all over the UK. But that one is definitely someone who is on the island as we speak.”

“But why would the killer want to draw attention to the fact Pete and Melissa are related? It’s more likely that they’ll get caught. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t think it’s the killer. But someone clearly knows more than they’re letting on. It still smacks of someone unloading a guilty conscience, though, trying to put all the responsibility on you. Oh, and I’ve set blog comments, so they have to be approved. That way, you choose what goes live, okay?"

“Okay, thanks. I need to get the first boat back tomorrow. Let's just hope I don't arrive back to another murder.”

The next morning, I awoke early and stretched.  Dan drove me back to the port in Liverpool, so I could get on the first available ferry back to Bwytheney. As we said goodbye, he embraced me and squeezed a little tighter than usual. He whispered in my ear, “Please take care, Cara.”

I pulled away and gave him a weak smile, "I will, I promise. And once this is over, you need to come and visit."

“Yeah, sure. We can hit