Part 1: Disputed Grounds

Peter Carroway, the developer championing the Larkfield Lot housing project, hadn't arrived yet. As the primary driving force behind the push to develop Larkfield Lot, his absence was strange, especially given the stakes.

The meeting concluded. It was looking more and more like those in favor of proclaiming Larkfield as historic would prevail. You couldn't tell by looking at Agnes, though. Her small face was pinched like she could smell something rotten. She stormed out of the church and was the first to her car. When Julia commented about Agnes’ poor mood despite her seeming victory, Mr. Whistles pointed out that it was simply Agnes being Agnes, which she couldn’t really argue with.

Julia lingered near the churchyard. Mr. Whistles loved to dart around the bell tower, his wings slicing through the cool evening air as he explored the nooks and crannies of the ancient stonework. He paused to perch on the weathered ledge of a lancet window, tilting his head as if inspecting the world below with a curious, regal air. He let out a high-pitched trill, a sharp, melodic call that seemed to echo through the cool air. He swooped down to peck at stray crumbs near the picnic tables and back up to perch triumphantly on the weathered stone cross atop the bell tower, surveying his domain like a diminutive monarch. The twilight painted Larkfield Lot in muted shades of gold and green, and as she walked its edge, a familiar faint trill caught her ear. Mr. Whistles cocked his head, mimicking the sound again—a phone's ringtone.

Mr. Whistles, trilling in response to the phone's chime, led her to the boundary of Larkfield Lot, where a sleek smartphone lay half-hidden in the grass. Its lockscreen flickered with a single message: “Meet me at Larkfield.”

Julia’s heart quickened as she picked up the phone. She recognized the man on the phone's wallpaper. The image was of Peter, with three of his grandkids. The faint glow of the setting sun cast long shadows over the field, and the silence around her felt suddenly oppressive. Where was Peter? And who had he been meeting at Larkfield Lot?

CTA: Something is amiss in Brambleton. Can you help uncover what happened? Check your inbox tomorrow to dive deeper into the mystery.

**Note: you can expect the email to show up at the same time of day tomorrow.