Title: Death at Bayard Lodge
Series: The Mary Grey Mysteries, Book Two
Author: Winnie Frolik
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 09/20/2022
Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 67800
Genre: Historical, LGBTQIA+, historical, crime, lesbian, district nurse, private detective, 1930s, country house, death
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Description
When district nurse Mary Grey and her lover Harriet accept an invitation to visit the latter’s godmother in the beautiful Lake District, they’re hoping for a relaxing outing. But from the very start, they find themselves pulled into a web of intrigue, resentments, deceit, and violent passions.
Young newlywed Rachel Florry is found on the lawn with her skull smashed in and there’s no shortage of suspects. From the girl whose fiancée Rachel stole, to a sinister vagrant, to Rachel’s own mystery lover.
Mary calls on her old friend and partner, private detective Franz Shaefer to come down to Bayard Lodge and help solve the case. But as they unearth buried secrets and hidden agendas, they themselves are at risk.
Death at Bayard Lodge
Winnie Frolik © 2022
All Rights Reserved
Not that there were any ill omens when they began their trip. Far from it. The charwoman agreed to look after Ahab, and the doorman of their building helped them with their luggage. (Mary could have managed hers alone, but Harriet’s bag was another thing altogether. It had been a source of both bemusement and concern to see what Harriet considered “packing light.”) Then a quick cab ride to the station where you couldn’t help but get caught up in the general hustle and bustle of all the other passengers who were also anticipating their trips. Once aboard and out of the city, the views of the English countryside were quite charming. Even Mary had to admit train travel was very pleasant when you’re traveling first class. You could stretch out comfortably in an armchair complete with footstool and enjoy the scenery or read the paper without anyone’s elbow in your face.
A train ride was necessary because the only vehicle either woman possessed was Mary’s motorbike. They could hardly have transported both themselves and all their luggage on such a long cross-country ride on that. Harriet could easily have afforded to buy a car for herself but had not done so for the simple reason she didn’t know how to drive. Anytime Mary brought the matter up with her, Harriet would fob it off with some excuse. Mary suspected that deep down Harriet still had some issues related to her brother’s car crash and ensuing death. Perfectly understandable, but it did limit Harriet’s freedom of mobility. Even in a country known for its excellent train service. Though as Harriet liked to say there were always cabs. “And if it was good enough for Holmes and Watson, then it’s good enough for me!”
At the station a car waited to drive them to Bayard Lodge with a driver familiar to Harriet.
“Smethers!” She warmly addressed a stocky gray-haired man with a weather-beaten face who stood next to a crisp white Salmson Tourer four-seater with the top down. He wore a dark suit that Mary thought would be very hot this time of year, yet he displayed no signs of discomfort.
“Miss Harriet,” he replied with a slight head bow and a broad smile. “It’s good to see you again.” He turned his gaze to Mary. “And you are?”
“Mary Grey.”
“Mary’s a friend of mine,” Harriet explained. “We share a flat together.”
“Well, I hope you’ll enjoy your stay, madam.” He turned his smile on Mary too.
“Smethers,” Harriet explained, “is Auntie Di’s butler and sometimes driver.”
“I’ve been known to lend a hand at the village water pump too,” he added jovially.
“Ah,” Mary replied.
Harriet’s former fiancé, an earl, had employed two separate persons for the roles of butler and chauffer, and neither of them had, in the brief time Mary had known them, been especially friendly. Smethers, though, already appeared more approachable. Which suggested that Bayard Lodge really was, as Harriet had insisted, a more low-key setting than the grandeur of Avenel Court. Something Mary found quite reassuring. And, she reminded herself, at least this time there’d be no peers present. Surely that would make things easier as well. Wouldn’t it?
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Born and raised in Pittsburgh, the Carnegie Library in Oakland was always my second home. I was diagnosed as being a high functioning autistic in college. I hold a useless double major in English literature and creative writing. I’ve worked at nonprofit agencies, in food service, and most recently as a dog-walker/petsitter but the siren song of writing keeps pulling me back into its dark grip. I have co-authored a book on women in the US Senate with Billy Herzig, self-published The Dog-Walking Diaries, and in 2020 my first novel Sarah Crow was published by One Idea Press. I live in my hometown Pittsburgh with my better half, Smoky the Cat. Find Winnie on Facebook.
