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Deadly Games
By Ann


The two women stand at the bowler's end of the cricket pitch with arms folded and eyes focused on the worn grass.

"Ash, there's a tennis racquet in the middle of the cricket pitch," Scribbs matter-of-factly informs her partner.

"I'm well aware of that, Scribbs, but it's the dead body lying beside the racquet that has me puzzled," Ash replies as she cocks her head to the side in hopes of getting a better view.

"Yeah, I do suppose it is a little strange for a dead body to be on the field as well," an agreeable Scribbs responds.

The club manager hurries out onto the field to greet the two women and offers, "Good morning, ladies. I'm sorry for the delay, but I've given strict instructions to keep everyone off the pitch until game day. Giles here was only following orders."

Wordlessly, Ash motions toward the body with both her head and hand.

"Oh, of course you can enter the pitch Inspector. You and your partner will be the only ones allowed until the dew dries, then we need to take precautions not to wear out the grass walking back and forth," the helpful manager supplies.

Stepping onto the pitch, Ash makes a beeline for the body leaving Scribbs behind with the manager.

"Um, Mr. Welch? You do realize a man has been killed, possibly murdered, right?" Scribbs asks the man who is watching Ash's every move and grimacing every time she walks around the body.

"Yes, and I do apologize for seeming insensitive, but we've got a big match coming up this weekend. Could you tell your partner not to walk around so much?" The nervous man replies.

"I'll be sure and tell her just that," Scribbs answers as she enters the pitch and walks toward her partner.

Grinning, Scribbs says, "Hey Ash, Mr. Welch doesn't want you walking around killing the grass."

A dark head pops up, and a lethal glare is sent back in the direction of the manager.

"Who cares about his bloody grass? This man has been murdered. It appears he has been struck numerous times in the head with this tennis racquet," an upset Ash exclaims.

"Right, who bloody cares," Scribbs replies and once again agrees with her partner.

"No, I mean bloody grass. See, the bloke has bled all over the grass," Ash states as she points to the red area in question.

Chuckling, Scribbs yells back to the manager.

"Hey, Mr. Welch, no worries about brown patch, but you have a very nice sized red patch to contend with."

The upset manager puts his head in his hands and begins to cry.

Ash looks pointedly at her partner, and Scribbs merely shrugs her shoulders.

The victim is finally identified as the captain of one of the teams scheduled to play this weekend, and all the club players have nothing but good things to say about their teammate.

The only negative criticism comes from one of the men who relates that rumor has it that the victim was a bit of a womanizer and was carrying on an affair with another club member's wife.

After a few more interviews, the two women have a suspect, one David Bowers, who it seems is a tennis fanatic.

"Hey, Ash, if the match isn't cancelled this weekend, fancy coming with me?" Scribbs asks on the way to the tennis courts.

"If we can talk this bloke into confessing, I'd be glad to," is Ash's short reply.

Nearing the courts, Scribbs excitedly says, "Now that we have inside information, we could make a bundle betting against the home team."

Ash stops dead in her tracks, but she continues forward when Scribbs mutters 'never mind.'

The two woman step up to the fence just as David Bowers puts his bags down on Court One. Scribbs opens the gate for her partner, and together, they walk towards Mr. Bowers just as he appears to be pulling his racquet out of the bag.

Frowning, he pulls out a cricket bat out instead, and Scribbs turns to her partner with a huge grin on her face.

Chuckling, Ash says, "Okay, Scribbs. It's a date."

The End

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