Title: Unclaimed
Author: Jo A. Hiestand
Genre: British Mystery
Book Blurb:
When former police detective Michael McLaren and his girlfriend Dena Ellison enjoy an all-too-infrequent day’s outing they discover a brooch hidden in an old brick wall. This curious find plunges him into investigating a year-old cold case involving the murder of a young art student and the death of her assumed killer.
As the meaning of the brooch becomes evident, McLaren slowly untangles the web surrounding Amy's death...and barely escapes his own planned murder.
Excerpt:
The road into Castleton was dry, a tacit illustration that the weather varied widely in this region of Derbyshire. McLaren considered meeting Jamie at the pub instead of his house, but as he slowed his car opposite The Split Oak, he thought better of the idea. He’d had a full day of interviews, and the information jammed his head. A hot meal and the fireplace called. He would catch Jamie up as they had planned. Besides, they would have privacy if they met at his place.
McLaren turned onto the road leading to Somerley. The village appeared seconds later, grey and nebulous in the advancing dusk. Specks of yellow light from residences and the pub reflected brightly off the wet pavements and established the village’s presence. He slowed the car as he came to the church, a darkening shape against the eastern line of trees. The gargoyles he had been so fascinated with in his childhood bulged like undefined blobs against the lighter stone. The lychgate squatted over the path leading to the church’s south porch.
He glimpsed the churchyard beyond. He didn’t need to be there to imagine that leaves clustered around the headstones or massed along the building’s foundation; twigs littered the ground and footpath. He had seen the area often enough. His mental image faded as he rounded the street corner and left the village.
The forest reclaimed the land beyond Somerley with an enthusiasm that never failed to astonish him. He had his own battle with his patch, constantly clearing nettles and creeping bent and cocksfoot from the edges of his garden. Saplings sprang up yearly along his stone walls or in the gravel of his driveway. He felt he spent his free time just maintaining the status quo.
He let up on the accelerator pedal, slowing to make the sharp turn at the rock cliff face. The forest gathered together here, protective, dark and dense, muscular boughs stretching overhead. Even on bright summer days the boughs and massive trunks shut out most of the sunlight. Now, as night crawled across the land, the light was nearly gone, and the car’s headlights shone brightly on the face of the grey rock cliff. He drove through the wooded tunnel and soon emerged into the open.
The forest fell behind him as the road straightened and climbed uphill. McLaren glanced at the dark mass on his right, for in the lingering moments of light the wood lost its individual components and fused into this solitary chunk sitting silent and mysterious opposite the fields. His land stretched along the northern edge of the road, reaching into the moors and wood that surrounded his house. The residence was as old as his family history, and wound back even before the McLarens bought the acreage. Ancestral papers from the 1600s gave him a sense of belonging; the house gave him a duty.
He passed the lane that cut into the main road. It was little more than a spur, holding three houses, a barn and a stable. As his car took the hill, a pair of headlights instantly broke the darkness behind him. They filled the rearview mirror, intensely bright and large. And on his tail.
McLaren pressed down on the accelerator pedal and his car surged ahead. The dust plumed out behind him and momentarily reduced the headlights’ glare. But the strange vehicle leapt after McLaren, and the headlights again consumed the mirror.
Cursing the driver for a fool or a mad man, McLaren slowed and drove as far to the side of the road as he could. The other car slowed and also steered to the left. Why doesn’t the loony pass, McLaren fumed, glancing into the mirror. He reclaimed the full lane and zoomed ahead. His house was a mile ahead.
The other car rocketed forward, the headlights’ glare filling the interior of McLaren’s car. As he glanced at the mirror, a loud crash bore into his ears, and he was thrown against the steering wheel. McLaren gripped the wheel, and the car leapt ahead. Again, the following car’s front bumper smashed into the rear of McLaren’s car. His small car shuddered and lurched to the left.
McLaren forced his car away from the verge and back toward the middle of the lane. The other vehicle drew alongside, and McLaren glanced toward his right. He could see nothing but a rectangular, black shape, taller than his small sports car, and a white hockey mask looking at him. He lowered the passenger’s side window to yell at the driver. As he turned his head, the driver waved and jerked his vehicle to the left. McLaren heard the deafening smash of metal against metal, felt his car shake and lunge away from his control. He remembered the smell of hot rubber as he jammed on the brake, remembered the yell that escaped his throat, remembered the blackness rushing toward his windscreen. But he couldn’t remember the crash.
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
Amazon: https://rb.gy/534l77
B&N: https://rb.gy/bcu5uj
What makes your featured book a must-read?
It’s a good mystery, featuring McLaren looking into the cold case of a murdered university student and that of her presumed killer. Quite unusual! But it also is a bit unusual in that McLaren ends up in a serious car crash. The scene with him in the hospital and Jamie visiting him shows their friendship in a slightly different light as well as illustrates McLaren’s impatience with things not to his liking. The ending, too, is a bit different. So, all in all, it’s a bit of a different McLaren mystery than most – which I hope you’ll enjoy!
Giveaway –
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Open Internationally.
Runs August 7 – August 14, 2024.
Winner will be drawn on August 15, 2024.
Author Biography:
Jo A. Hiestand grew up on regular doses of music, books, and Girl Scout camping. She gravitated toward writing in her post-high school years and finally did something sensible about it, graduating from Webster University with a BA degree in English and departmental honors. She writes a British mystery series (the McLaren Mysteries) and a Missouri-based cozy mystery series that is grounded in places associated with her camping haunts. The camping is a thing of the past, for the most part, but the music stayed with her in the form of playing guitar and harpsichord, and singing in a folk group. Jo carves jack o’ lanterns badly and sings loudly. She loves barbecue sauce and ice cream (separately, not together), kilts (especially if men wear them), clouds and stormy skies, and the music of G.F. Handel. You can usually find her pulling mystery plots out of scenery—whether from photographs or the real thing.
Social Media Links:
Booklisti: https://booklisti.com/johiestand
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Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/JoHiestand
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JoHiestand
Website: http://www.johiestand.com