Pitch Black: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 1) by Elise Noble Page A

problem with breaking the law—the world ranged from black to white, and I walked on the dark side—it was more that with my head screwed up the way it was, I didn’t trust myself not to get caught.
    By morning, I’d set myself a time limit of a week to start looking for work. One week to get my head in order. One week of living in a bubble before I had to rejoin the real world. One week, and the clock was ticking.

    Little did I know luck would be on my side, for once. Only two days had passed when Carol informed me of another outing.
    “The horticultural society committee’s meeting tomorrow morning, and Vera’s making her chocolate fudge cake. You don’t want to miss that.”
    “Could you bring me a slice back?”
    She gave me a dirty look over her glasses.
    “Okay, okay. I’ll come.” What could I say? I was a sucker for cake.
    The meeting was held in the village hall. There was a long table, a variety of old people, tea and hallelujah, the promised chocolate cake.
    Without my Toby on my back, I was eating too much junk food, but I didn’t have the energy to work it off. At this rate, I’d be buying a variety of yoga pants and learning the number of the local takeaway. It was a slippery slope to the life of a couch potato, and I stood perilously close to the edge.
    I took a seat next to Carol as the others talked about plants. My horticultural knowledge covered three areas—what I could eat to survive, which plants had healing properties and those I could use to poison people. The characteristics of a prize-winning dahlia passed me by.
    “We’ve booked the hall and chosen the judges for the annual show,” said the man at the head of the table. “We just need to agree on the classes.”
    The eight members of the committee immediately started arguing. I think they’d been getting tips from the parish councillors because nobody wanted to listen to anybody else, and they couldn’t agree on anything. While fascinating to watch, my nerves were wearing thin. If this kept up, I’d miss lunch and Carol had promised sticky toffee pudding for dessert. I waited for the next gap in the conversation, which took such a long time to appear I began to think the manned probe to Mars would arrive back sooner, and that hadn’t even taken off yet, for crying out loud.
    “Why don’t you have a vote?” I asked.
    They looked at me like I’d grown another head, so I elaborated. 
    “How about we put all the ideas on a list, and each one that gets six or more votes goes on the schedule?”
    There were murmurs of assent from around the table.
    “About bloody time someone came up with a sensible idea,” muttered a man wearing a flat cap. He looked as if he’d be more at home on a tractor.
    We soon had the number of classes down to thirty-five, which everyone agreed was reasonable. I looked at my watch. Eleven thirty. I just had time for another slice of cake before we went back to Carol’s.
    I was trying to balance my teacup and cake in one hand while I pulled out a chair with the other when tweed-cap man sidled up to me.
    “George,” he said, sticking his hand out.
    I gave up and put everything down on the table. “Ashlyn.” I reached out my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
    “I was wondering if you’re going to be a permanent member of the committee? We could do with some younger people, especially ones that have got their heads screwed on straight and don’t try to include a class for the potato that looks most like Elvis,” he said, referring to one of the more bizarre suggestions to come out of this morning’s brainstorming session.
    “Afraid not. I’m staying with Carol at the moment, but I’m not sure how long for. I need to look for a job, and I doubt I’ll find anything suitable near here.”
    “What kind of job?”
    “I’m not exactly sure. Maybe waitressing or bar work. Or cleaning. Something casual.”
    “Do you know anything about horses?”
    As a matter of fact, I did. I had one back home,