Page 32 - WaitingForMurder

buried treasure.”
Above us a cloud of birds cluster and break and
flow over the trees. Amazing.
“Probably the knights guarding the treasure,”
says Shane/Shame.
“S’nice here,” says Florence. “Although, be better
with a really good thunderstorm. The last time it did that was in May and in Bristol our street filled with water. But I love a snow day, really. Don’t you? Dan, you know that thing you’ve been looking at? It’s really sticking up now. It’s definitely a car.”
In spite of the last rays of the sun blinding us over the reservoir, I can see that not only is it a car, but we can actually see inside. Kind of. The water level appears to be below the ceiling.
“Let’s go and get a better look,” I say to Florence, and we stumble over the muddy shoreline and scrabble our way up on to the dam. It’s dusk, it’s hard to see, the reflections from the water are weird, and there are clouds of midges brushing around our heads.
“One of the windows is open, isn’t it?” says Florence, leaning out from the parapet of the dam.
We strain to make out what we’re looking at.
Waiting for Murder by Fleur Hitchcock Uncorrected Sample
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