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Serial Part 4
Now in Alaska, Imelda was convinced Charlotte was hiding som
I WAS lonely. Papa was a preacher and we lived and travelled in a painted wooden wagon, pulled by Jessie, a large and docile shire horse. We had few possessions; there was no room for what Papa called
A WAVE the size of a house crashed down upon the deck. Soaked to the skin, Dinah landed in a crumpled sail at the foot of the mast. “I had another of those stress dreams,” Dinah said, when Ken joined
SECOND violins, from bar thirty-two – again, please.” Maggie Holloway blinked at the sheet music in front of her, the notes swimming slightly as she adjusted her glasses. Her bow hovered uncertainly a
THE Misses Frobisher were new to Durham. They had chosen the city as their place of residence for its size. It was a proper city, but not so large that one could not walk from one end to the other eas
Clare had theories about her friend’s disappearance. Could she prove them to be true?
IRIS walked slowly to the front door of her Victorian villa in Fairley, a sleepy Sussex village. It had begun, she fumed silently – the “invasion” of her home. Of course, she’d been expecting it. Her