Blog Tour - For Better, For Worse
For Better, For Worse
by Jane Isaac
On my Blog today I have the pleasure of
Sharing with you........
For Better, For Worse
🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻
About the book
Stuart Ingram was once a respected local councillor...
The first time the police knocked on Gina's door, they arrested her husband.
The second time, they accused him of child abuse.
But he died a guilty man.
This time, the police are here for Gina – to tell her that her husband is dead. Murdered, just two
weeks before his trial.
Gina always stood by her husband. Even when everyone else walked away. She believed the trial
would clear his name. But now Stuart is dead.
And his wife is the suspect.
It's a race against time for DC Beth Chamberlain to uncover the truth – especially when a second
man turns up dead.
Domestic noir meets police procedural in this pacy thriller from Jane Isaac, perfect for fans of
Samantha Downing, Fiona Barton and K.L. Slater. Previously published as Presumed Guilty.
Pre-order links:
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2GWY5IE
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2GSHMfT
iBooks: https://apple.co/2ucWb3Q
Google Play: https://bit.ly/382jhIP
🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻
Excerpt
A kaleidoscope of blazing lights greeted them at the roundabout that marked the
intersection between Rothwell’s Bridge Street and High Street. Beth tugged up her
hood, climbed out of the car and approached the four by four marked with bold police
livery blocking the road. The earlier downpour had abated, leaving a slow unrelenting
drizzle in its wake and thick globules dripped off the trees and streetlamps as they
passed.
A uniformed officer she didn’t recognise stood beside the police vehicle, blowing
into his hands. He was clearly positioned to guard the scene from the end of the road
and divert any incoming traffic through the side streets, although there was little
traffic passing through that evening. Beth and Nick flashed their badges. The officer
exchanged pleasantries, cursed the weather and directed them to a figure, beyond the
inner cordon.
Dick Ramsay, the incident response shift sergeant, looked up as they approached.
‘I’m glad you guys are here.’
‘What have we got?’ Nick asked as they stepped over a splatter of rice on the
pavement.
‘Hit and run. Looks deliberate. The victim left the curry house across the road,
seconds before, and crossed at the zebra crossing.’
‘How do we know it was deliberate?’ Beth asked. It wouldn’t have been the first
case she’d attended where the driver wasn’t paying attention, hit a pedestrian and
sped off in a panic.
‘The assistant at the takeaway saw it happen.’ He paused and nodded at a lit
shopfront on the corner of the road opposite. ‘Apparently the crossing was clear when
he stepped onto it. The car veered across onto the pavement on the opposite side of
the road to catch him.’
Beth strained her eyes to see through the net curtain of the takeaway. The layout
was plain: a counter for ordering, a red bench beside the window for customer
seating. But it did have a clear view of the crossing through the glass door, especially
for someone stood at the counter.
‘The witness said it knocked the victim twenty feet or so into the air,’ the sergeant
continued. He moved off, motioning for them to follow, and halted beside a lump
covered with a foil blanket on the ground, close to the centre of the market square.
‘This is where he landed. The informant called an ambulance before they called us,
more in hope than expectation, I reckon. The paramedics pronounced him dead at the
scene at 10.23 p.m.’
Beth checked back to the crossing, gauging the distance from the point of impact.
It must have been at least fifteen yards.
‘The hypothermic blanket was the only thing I had in the boot to cover him with
until the CSIs arrive,’ Ramsay continued. ‘At least it’ll save him from the weather
and—’ he looked up ‘—the prying eyes.’
Several cars were dotted nearby. When there was no market operating, the square
doubled up as the town centre car park. It was lined with cafes and shopfronts on two
sides, all encased in darkness, and flanked by the Holy Trinity Church on another.
Along the bottom sat a row of residential terraces. Beth followed Ramsay’s eyeline to
a house in the middle of the terrace where the silhouette of a woman stood at an
upstairs window, blatantly staring down at them.
Ramsay pulled back the blanket. Covering bodies risked contaminating potential
evidence and was generally avoided. But, given the wet conditions, she doubted there
would be much left for the CSIs at this scene. The body was twisted, contorted from
the fall. An arm was thrust out at an awkward angle, a leg folded beneath him. She
crouched down. One side of his face was pressed into the tarmac, the head misshapen
and split open at the top. But the facial features, on this side at least, were fairly intact.
She peered in closer. There was something familiar about him. ‘Do we know who he
is?’ she asked.
‘We’ve been through his pockets. No wallet, ID, or car keys on him. It’s possible
they dropped out of his clothes when he was thrown through the air.’
🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻
About the author
UK with their daughter, and dog, Bollo. Jane loves to hear from readers and writers.
You can reach her via her website at www.janeisaac.co.uk Sign up to her book club at
http://eepurl.com/1a2uT for book recommendations and details of new releases,
events and giveaways.
Follow Jane:
Facebook: @JaneIsaacAuthor
Twitter: @JaneIsaacAuthor
Website: www.janeisaac.co.uk
🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻
If you enjoyed my post then please share so we can get everyone reading and talking about.......For Better, For Worse by Jane Isaac
🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻🌷🌻
Comments
Post a Comment