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At Carlton Manor, Iris and I were reclining in sun chairs, secluded by shrubs and flowers.

The azure blue sky was traced with high stratus and the scent of Jasmine was in the air.

Here within the grounds of Carlton Manor life felt far from the madness of the TV studio; from which I had obtained leave which I was due.

And after a simple reunion with Ben just earlier, Ralph had taken him off somewhere.

It made me smile with relief at how short our trauma had been and another landscape opening here at the Manor for us both.

Now I could chat with Iris about Ben’s prospects of working through the summer here at the manor.

I found Iris an attractive woman with fair bubbly hair and hazel eyes that sparkled while she spoke. Her voice had unmistakable breeding and the polo jumper she wore failed to conceal her fine shapely figure. This was a woman I felt I could admire.

“There’s plenty for Ben to take on here Margo.” Iris was saying, “The war-effort took the last of our workers away some while ago.”

As I listened, I felt naturally at ease with her and found her enthusiasm in the face of austerity infectious as she spoke on,

“Oh Margo, There’s so much I want to show you here. It’s an ideal place for our lads to share together this summer. I’m sure you’ll feel the same in a day or so and I have a lovely little room ready for you”

Iris would have to be in her mid thirties like myself yet had that confidence of a woman in control. She was wearing jodhpurs and as we came up to the stable yard it occurred to me she rode horses. “Do you ride much Iris?” I asked peering into the stable.

“Only a hack round the lanes when the weather’s OK; how about yourself?”

“Well, I sometimes get my bike out on a fine day.” I quipped, “How many horses are there?” I inquired.

Iris laughed, “Only my own now, he’s grazing in the meadow: several were stabled here before the war but with the price of hay in the winter...”

“Ben said your husband was an officer in the war effort abroad; is he due any leave Iris?” I asked cautiously.

There was an uncomfortable silence before she answered.

“Ronald was lost in Afghanistan over six months ago Margo.” She replied evenly.

“I’m so sorry.” I mumbled awkwardly, my blunder causing me to blush.

Iris slid her hand through my arm. It’s OK Margo ... really, she said simply, “Come on! Lets show you the kitchen garden.”

Later, in the cool of the library we relaxed into deep cushioned armchairs and with each of us holding a generous glass of brandy Iris took a deep sigh and began quietly recounting her life at the Manor to me.

“Ronald and I took over the Manor when we married. It was a bit run down.

But we got things going; and Ralph was born.” Iris sighed at fond memories. “The place became busy with people working and we were happy with how things were shaping up. Then the war came.”

Iris paused to sip her brandy and I remained silent; knowing she had more to say.

“The Royal Navy recalled Simon and before long I hardly saw him. Oh, the occasional flurry of leave; then a return to the prudence widowhood.

I missed Ronald; but I was lonely and fed up to be honest.”

She paused with a look of wry bitterness.

“Or to speak plainly Margo. I became sex-starved.”

Iris looks at me boldly,” Tell me Margo, has the war deprived you of sex?”

I put down my glass; surprised at her candour. Yet suddenly I felt activated.

“Why damit Iris, Yes It has!” I declared wryly, “ I’ve been starved of sex! Why I even get envious if I see dogs at it in the street! “ I said unflinchingly.”

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“Wake up, little girl.” Strong fingers pinched her chin. Kristen tried to shake them off, but they only gripped harder, raising her head. Her eyes flickered open. Sister Saint Augustine was standing in front of her, her face up close. Her expression was neither kind nor angry — just blank, clinical. The lack of emotion frightened Kristen more than the fact that she couldn’t move. “How are you feeling, dear?” Sister asked. She tried to say all, right, but it came out muffled. Something...

Saint and a SinnerChapter 1

Detective Nicholas Saint stood in the bathroom of the Lapeer County Sheriff's station, hands gripping one of the three sinks lining one wall, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and bleary, evidence of too much Jack Daniels and too many sleepless nights. His hair was mussed from running his hands through the thick black strands in frustration. He grimaced at the sour taste of cigarettes and over cooked coffee in his mouth. This was too much. He had come home to the...

Saint and a SinnerChapter 2

Those words came to haunt Nick. No identification on either of the victims. They had managed to get fingerprints on victim one. She wasn't in any system that Nick had available to him, including AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System. So, whoever she was, she didn't have a record and had never been fingerprinted. It had been impossible to fingerprint victim two. The decomposition had been too devastating, animals had destroyed what the killer hadn't. Dental records weren't...

Saint and a SinnerChapter 3

Michelle pulled her seatbelt a little tighter, not caring if Nick saw it or not. The man drove like a maniac. She had felt safer being in a car with Sam, even though the man was a pervert and lazy as hell. She felt her stomach tighten as the light in front of them turned yellow and he sped up, going through it just as it turned red. "Is this your way of trying to back out?" she asked him through gritted teeth. Nick looked over at her, sitting stiffly in the low slung passenger bucket seat...

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