A Prequel to LITTLE COMFORT

“You’re the one who’s acting like a three-year-old,” Morgan said as he got dressed in Hester’s bedroom. “Daphne is Kate’s mother.”

Tonight was Morgan’s thirty-sixth birthday, and since he and Daphne were twins, technically it was her birthday too.

“Shut up,” Hester said. “Daphne promised to get a babysitter and didn’t.”

In her heart, Hester knew that Morgan – her more-than-boyfriend, not-quite-husband – was right, but the whole situation still annoyed her. She hadn’t gotten used to having Daphne’s three-year-old kid around all the time.

Later, Prachi and Jane met all four of them at the Independent, a pub in the heart of Somerville’s Union Square, where Kate sat in a high chair and smeared macaroni and cheese on herself and everything within reach. She also screamed, which Daphne managed to ignore while telling stories about her most recent job working for an anthropologist. The anthropologist lived in a huge house that overlooked Harvard Yard. At night, she lured other professors into long, passionate debates, serving endless takeout and wine, and invited Daphne to stay. What Daphne didn’t confess was that she’d walked out on the job earlier that afternoon and, according to the anthropologist, had pocketed over five hundred dollars, money that Hester would wind up having to pay back to keep Daphne out of trouble. But that was par for the course.

At 9:30, their meals only half eaten, Daphne leaned over to Hester. “I’m having a great time,” she whispered.

Hester squeezed her hand. “I’m glad.”

“Kate’s getting tired,” Daphne said.

Hester could hear what she wanted – a night out, a chance to drink and have fun with friends, for Hester to take Kate home and babysit – but something selfish in her refused to give in. “It’s late,” she said. “Of course she’s tired.”

“Please,” Daphne said, clasping her hands together.

“It’s Morgan’s birthday too,” Hester said.

The restaurant was loud, loud enough that it took a moment for Hester’s words to flow over to Daphne, to sink in. It took another moment for Daphne’s face to harden as she gathered Kate up and stormed off. The cake hadn’t even come out from the kitchen yet. But after Daphne left, the evening lightened. The strain of having to watch what you said, avoiding anything that might lead to a conflict, dissipated, and the rest of them could talk freely. Hester relaxed, listening to Prachi and Jane, to them being fabulous. Prachi had grown up in London and now spent her days “taking meetings” and consulting her “electronic diary.” Hester loved that she insisted that being a librarian, especially one at Harvard’s prestigious Widener where Hester worked, was a “career of today.” Jane had grown up in San Diego, and looked it with blonde hair that spilled from a ponytail. She taught hatha yoga and really believed that meditation could solve anything. They’d just returned from a trip to Iceland with a group of other childless lesbians.

“Did you meet Bjork?” Morgan asked.

“Of course we did!” Prachi said. “You should go, darling. It’s only a four-hour flight. I’ll text you our hotel information!”

“It’s not that far,” Hester said.

“I’d love to go,” Morgan said.

When dinner was over (Prachi picked up the tab and wouldn’t let them look at the bill), the four of them stumbled to Morgan’s apartment for a nightcap. While Morgan fumbled with his keys, Waffles, their basset hound mix, pawed and then whined and then finally let out a full on bay.

“Ah, quiet girl,” Morgan said.

“She needs to go out,” Hester said.

“I didn’t tell you,” he said. “I brought home a box of kittens.”

“When?”

“Tonight,” he said. “Before I met you.”

“Darling, it’s what you love about him,” Prachi said.

Morgan was a veterinarian, and had a habit of bringing home strays, something Hester usually took in stride, but now, when the door finally swung open, she said, “What the hell?”

Inside, newspapers fluttered. The stuffing from a pillow sifted across every surface like snow. Two kittens hung from curtains. Three more dashed from the kitchen counters to the dining table and back again. In the center of the mess, Waffles stood guard over a fortress of cushions, where Kate lay sound asleep on a pink blanket. Hester catapulted herself over a chair, shooing away kittens and lifting Kate to listen for breathing while the girl mumbled something in her sleep and rubbed her nose with a fist. Hester ripped a yellow Post-It from where it had been taped to the back of Kate’s pajamas. On it, Daphne had written in thick block letters: Back in an hour. TOPS!

“Look,” Hester said.

Morgan took the note. “We can handle an hour, right?” he said, as if leaving a three-year-old in an apartment by herself with only a basset hound to watch her was normal.

“I’ll pour drinks,” Prachi said.

Hester crumpled up the Post-It and tossed it in the trash, not having any clue that months later the kittens would be long gone, but Kate would still be her responsibility.

Giveaway: Have you ever wanted to disappear for a few days? Leave a comment below for your chance to win a print copy of Little Comfort. U.S. entries only, please. The giveaway ends August 29, 2018. Good luck everyone!

You can read more about Hester in Little Comfort, the first book in the NEW “Hester Thursby” mystery series, coming August 28, 2018.

In a brilliantly twisted debut set among Boston’s elite, Edwin Hill introduces unforgettable sleuth Hester Thursby—and a missing persons case that uncovers a trail of vicious murder . . .

Harvard librarian Hester Thursby knows that even in the digital age, people still need help finding things. Using her research skills, Hester runs a side business tracking down the lost. Usually, she’s hired to find long-ago prom dates or to reunite adopted children and birth parents. Her new case is finding the handsome and charismatic Sam Blaine.

Sam has no desire to be found. As a teenager, he fled his small New Hampshire town with his friend, Gabe, after a haunting incident. For a dozen years, Sam and Gabe have traveled the country, reinventing themselves as they move from one mark to another. Sam has learned how trusting wealthy people can be—especially the lonely ones—as he expertly manipulates his way into their lives and homes. In Wendy Richards, the beautiful, fabulously rich daughter of one of Boston’s most influential families, he’s found the perfect way to infiltrate the milieu in which he knows he belongs—a world of Brooks Brothers suits, Nantucket summers, and effortless glamour.

As Hester’s investigation closes in on their brutal truth, the bond between Sam and Gabe is tested and Hester unknowingly jeopardizes her own safety. While Gabe has pinned all his desperate hopes of a normal life on Hester, Sam wants her out of the way for good. And Gabe has always done what Sam asks . . .

A second Hester Thursby Mystery will follow in 2019.

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Meet the author
Edwin Hill was born in Duxbury, Massachusetts, and spent most of his childhood obsessing over Enid Blyton’s “The Famous Five,” Agatha Christie novels, and somehow finding a way into C.S. Lewis’s wardrobe. After attending Wesleyan University, he headed west to San Francisco for the original dotcom boom. Later, he returned to Boston, earned an MFA from Emerson College, and switched gears to work in educational publishing, where he currently serves as the vice president and editorial director for Bedford/St. Martin’s, a division of Macmillan. He lives in Roslindale, Massachusetts with his partner Michael and his favorite reviewer, their lab Edith Ann, who likes his first drafts enough to eat them.

Visit Edwin’s website at edwin-hill.com to learn more about Little Comfort.

All comments are welcomed.