Rich Odell
Stories
2
Chapters
11
Words
19.8 K
Comments
0
Reading
1 h, 39 m
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![Chapter 1 – Finding Mabel [ discovery ] Cover](https://www.richardodell.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/Finding-Mabel-cover-400x587.png)
She awoke slumped at her desk. As she lifted her head, fear spiked within her that she was late for duty. She jolted upright in her chair, scanning the room for the clock and calendar. A moment later, relief washed through her. Saturday. Eight a.m. Her shoulders dropped. She let out a quiet laugh at herself. After twenty-eight years of police service, duty was now a desk job. And weekends were no longer stolen by the call of a whistle or the ring of a phone. The previous evening began to…-
2.8 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had tried to read the third page. Then the second. Then the first. Blank. Every one of them. It was Sunday evening, already late. She needed to get to bed, back to work in the morning. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, easing the dull ache that had settled behind them. Seated at the bureau, she felt herself drifting, that soft pull toward sleep that came before you realised it was happening. From somewhere deep in her mind, a hushed voice called her name. “Look…
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2.8 K • Ongoing
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Joyce had returned to the bureau with tea. She set it down beside the map case and tried to recall what she had taken from the first page. The first page resisted her. She read the opening line twice and found that it did not settle. The words were ordinary enough, but they failed to hold together. She reached the end without knowing what she had read, only that something had passed through her attention without stopping. On the third attempt, she realised she had been reading for some time. Not…
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2.8 K • Ongoing
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True love carves its own winding path—be it through the fire of passion or the shelter of protection. In both, the heart offers freely, without promise or expectation. It was a new day, though little felt renewed. Mabel woke depleted—emotionally threadbare. The shop would need opening, and she’d need to wash and dress. She also had to spend the day with Sam. How the hell was she going to cope? The clock read a quarter past five. No deliveries due today—just enough time for a soak before…
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17.1 K • Ongoing
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Every day, she made the pilgrimage—three miles from the grocer’s shop to the coastline, where the path climbed to the highest point of the cliff. The place the locals called Blackmere Point. They say no birds fly over Blackmere Point. That the sea below swallows sound. And that if you stand too close to the edge, you’ll hear your name whispered on the wind—not by the living, but by those who leapt before you. The villagers call it cursed. But the old women who keep to the woods call it something…-
17.1 K • Ongoing
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She knew he would do it. She knew how he operated. He had always been there, more constant than the community around her. He should have returned next week from the visit to her mother. Her suspicions were confirmed that morning, the mewing sound of his arrival, the brush of his body against her legs as she filled the kettle at the sink. Malkin Gra - the ancient one, a Knight of Friþgeard, the king maker, known only to trusted friends as ‘Puss’. Mabel looked down at the grey cat by her feet.…-
17.1 K • Ongoing
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Easterwich sat a mile inland, the sea ever-present in its bones. Blackmere Point lay three miles east along the cliffs—a place most locals avoided, though no one ever said exactly why. The town had grown in recent years. More streets. More strangers. It hadn’t always been like that. There’d been a time—before the turn of the century, before the quiet exodus—when a certain kind of people lived here. People like Mabel. They were never called by name. Not publicly. But the old families knew.…
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17.1 K • Ongoing
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Samuel Gambrill was more than an old friend. Knowing what she was, he had become something else entirely—her protector. Now a sergeant in the local constabulary, he was one of the few in Easterwich who could accept the strange without blinking. He’d stood up for Mabel since they were children, from playground taunts to teenage suspicion. He knew her family’s secrets, had come to terms with a talking cat, and often turned to Mabel when a case drifted beyond the reach of ordinary reason. Today,…
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17.1 K • Ongoing
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Being alone with Sam always stirred bittersweet memories, but she had no choice. Arriving unaccompanied would raise suspicion — better to have a male companion. And Sam was the only one from the ordinary world she could trust. She visited the Inspector on her way home from the Goodwin garden, presented her credentials, and swore him to secrecy. She requested Sam’s presence on the mission, which he could hardly refuse. As directed, Sam arrived in civilian clothing, looking troubled as he pulled…
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17.1 K • Ongoing
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Mabel returned to the shop. Malkin was asleep on the kitchen chair. He stirred at the sound of the back door opening. “Did you remember the fish?” he asked, eyes still half-lidded. “No herring, but a nice piece of plaice,” she replied, holding up the shopping bag. “Fresh from the sea.” “Perfect,” said the cat, stretching slowly into motion. “And what of the mission?” “A good result—if Amos’s reckoning is correct. But I have a problem. One I’m hoping you can help…
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17.1 K • Ongoing
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![Chapter 1 – Finding Mabel [ discovery ] Cover](https://www.richardodell.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/02/Finding-Mabel-cover.png)
