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    The Death of Digby Catch
    The Death of Digby Catch
    The Death of Digby Catch
    Ebook87 pages1 hour

    The Death of Digby Catch

    By Amy Spector

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    About this ebook

    It’s more than eighteen years since August Catch’s Uncle Digby disappeared to the Cape to mourn the death of his sister. So when August arrives at Arachne’s Loom to collect his late uncle’s things, he isn’t expecting to find stories of a man larger than life. Or the very real possibility that Digby’s death may not have been from natural causes.

    Theo Webb has had few people in his life he loved, and fewer still he can trust. But the estate groundskeeper, Digby Catch, was one of them. Returning home for Digby’s funeral, Theo is thrown together with Digby’s nephew, and the attraction is instant. But so is Theo’s certainty that things surrounding Digby’s death don’t add up, and at least one person isn’t telling the truth.

    Discovering a killer is difficult when someone is desperate to keep more than just their identity a secret. And when all the clues point in one direction, even Theo isn’t sure what to think. He and August must work together if they’re going to solve a murder, and not let the thing growing between them be a distraction.

    But then, maybe a distraction is exactly what they need.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJMS Books LLC
    Release dateMay 7, 2022
    ISBN9781685501310
    The Death of Digby Catch
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    Author

    Amy Spector

    Amy Spector grew up in the United States surviving on a steady diet of old horror movies, television reruns, and mystery novels.After years of blogging about comic books, vintage Gothic romance book cover illustrations, and a shameful amount about herself, she decided to try her hand at writing stories. She found it more than a little like talking about herself in third person, and that suited her just fine.She blames Universal for her love of horror, Edward Gorey for her love of British drama, and writing for awakening the romantic that was probably there all along.Amy lives in the Midwest with her husband and children, and her cats Poe, Goji and Nekō.

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      Book preview

      The Death of Digby Catch - Amy Spector

      Chapter 1

      The rain had slowed the procession of cars winding their way to the gravesite to a mournful crawl. It was fitting. Not only because it was a funeral, but because the weather was as overly dramatic as Digby Catch had always been.

      If August’s uncle could have ordered up the weather for his big day, rain would have definitely been at the top of his list, and Digby would have been looking down, thrilled at the picture-perfect scene of his mourners soaked to the skin.

      Not that August was the type to kid himself. There was nothing after this life. And even if there was, there was no chance his uncle was in heaven.

      The car ahead of him—something expensive with dark windows—pulled off to the side of the path, and August did the same, throwing his rental car into park and unfolding himself from the front seat.

      A few dozen yards away, a small crowd had already gathered under the green awning set up to shield the casket. An unlucky few, those spilling out into the elements, were prepared for the weather, and held umbrellas or wore wide-brimmed hats.

      August didn’t have an umbrella. Or a hat. He considered himself lucky to have had a pair of black pants and a black button-up in his carry-on when he’d gotten the call.

      He’d been at the Atlanta airport, forty-five minutes away from boarding his flight back home, when his cell phone rang.

      Mr. Catch, I’m afraid I have some terrible news.

      He’d exchanged his ticket for the next available flight to Massachusetts. And when he’d landed in Boston, grabbed one of the few rental cars left on the lot and drove the last hundred miles.

      He’d made the Cape just as the sky was opening up.

      The green fabric covering the ground around his uncle’s casket was damp, and with each step, August could feel the wet seeping into his shoes.

      He found his place in a spot reserved for family, separated from the others by a crimson braided rope held up by brass poles. August was the only family that would be there. He was the only family left.

      He stared down at the mahogany box for a very long time, regretting he and his uncle’s last conversation, and fought the urge to rub at his chest.

      I could use the help. And you could use the money.

      Digby, I have a job.

      Yeah, but the money here’s better, so’s the view. Besides, I’ll need someone to take over in a few years.

      I get to see horses every day.

      You still haven’t met my chipmunk.

      Eventually, he pulled his eyes away, looked up, and caught the man across from him watching. Dirty-blond hair, light eyes, looking perfectly put together in a dark, tailored suit. He could have fallen from the pages of a GQ article about how to dress if you wanted to get laid after a funeral.

      August found it unnerving that the stranger didn’t look away, instead taking his time to study him, a look on his face August couldn’t quite read, before giving him the briefest nod and leaning over to whisper something to a woman at his side. She was older than the man. Maybe fifteen years, if August was to guess. A tired forty. But then, August was sure he looked tired too. Funerals had a tendency to do that to a person.

      The blonde woman, who’d been deep in conversation with someone on her other side, glanced over, and the look he got then was one August did recognize. He’d been getting that same look from women since he’d hit a growth spurt at seventeen.

      He was relieved when a priest appeared at the head of the coffin, and everyone’s attention shifted.

      Thank you for joining us today as we commit Digby Catch to his place of rest, as he awaits the Lord’s resurrection.

      As the priest spoke, giving his condolences and reading scripture from a small book he held, the rain began to slow down to a drizzle, and after a long while stopped altogether.

      The burial service was all very Catholic. August’s uncle had not been Catholic. The closest to religion he ever got was when he was cursing August to hell. But then, maybe Digby had found religion. Or, at the very least, comfort in the trappings of it.

      After the service, August slipped quickly away. He’d never been particularly comfortable in crowds. And he wanted little more than to reach his car and find a room somewhere so that he could grab a shower and a few hours’ sleep before having to show up at the Webb family’s estate asking for the key to his uncle’s room. He’d been up for more than twenty-eight hours replaying every moment with his uncle, every conversation they’d had, every clue he could have missed.

      He was exhausted and far too raw to make small talk with strangers.

      Excuse me.

      August had been so close to his rental he could have tasted his escape. Instead, he willed himself to turn and found the immaculately dressed man from the other side of his uncle’s casket. Hello.

      Am I correct in thinking you’re Gus? Digby’s nephew?

      August. August was sure he’d made a pained face. Only my uncle called me Gus, and that was when he was trying to make me mad.

      To August’s surprise, the man laughed, delighted at the idea, and offered his hand. He was even better looking when he smiled. Theo Webb. Digby was a good friend.

      The statement didn’t ring quite true. August was sure his uncle had his charms, but he had been nearly sixty, and a cranky bastard. But he did recognize the last name.

      I can’t thank you and your family enough, Mr. Webb. August suppressed a yawn. He really was bone-tired. "For everything you’ve done. Especially for making all the arrangements. It

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