Saddled with a Murder (Ruth Finlay Mysteries Book 5)

A Ruth Finlay Mystery Set in the World of Horse Racing

When journalist Ruth Finlay is assigned to cover Myrtle Bay’s annual horse carnival, she expects a routine feature—nothing more. But when a promising young jockey is killed during a chaotic maiden race, what looks like a tragic accident quickly turns into something far more troubling.

Ruth is out of her depth in the world of horse racing, where whispers of race fixing and foul play circulate beneath the surface. Her friend Doris is convinced the horse was sabotaged and the race rigged—and that the jockey’s death was no accident. Ruth isn’t so sure. As tensions rise and accusations fly, their friendship begins to fracture.

Determined to uncover the truth, Ruth teams up with her partner Ciaran, delving into the hidden workings of the racing industry. Interviews with trainers, jockeys, and stable staff reveal little—until a single piece of evidence shifts everything. With time running out, Ruth must untangle deception, motive, and revenge before the killer disappears for good.

Blending suspense, sharp character dynamics, and a richly detailed setting, Saddled with Murder is a compelling installment in the Ruth Finlay Mysteries—perfect for readers who enjoy intelligent crime fiction with emotional depth.

Uncover the truth behind the race—start reading Saddled with Murder today.

Excerpt from the book

I came to a sudden halt on the half-landing and made a grab for the banister. Below, standing squarely in the foyer of the small hotel, was an apparition of fluffy pink and white. The cutest, cuddliest ghost there ever was. Only, this was no ghost. Beneath that wide-brimmed hat, ensconced in that voluminous boa wrapped around her shoulders, was Doris.

What was my neighbour doing at the Saddle Inn? Not only was she here, she was checking in. Checking in to the same hotel I had checked in to just one hour before. The coincidence was uncanny.

Before I had a chance to either bolt back to my room or head down the rest of the stairs to greet her, she swung around, key card in hand, clocked my presence and let out a loud cry that made the couple behind her pay attention. Suddenly, I had three pairs of eyes on me, hers filled with wonder and delight, the other pairs with curiosity and puzzlement. Do we know this person? Should we? Perhaps she’s famous.

Frozen to the spot, I waited for Doris to join me.

‘I’m surprised to see you here,’ I said.

‘The Mahjong club were helping the Football Club with a fundraiser. Naturally, I bought a ticket.’ There was a triumphant ring to her voice.

‘One ticket?’

Her response was an amused shrug. ‘At a cost of two whole dollars, and I won the main prize. Three nights all-inclusive plus free entry to the Myrtle Bay Cup.’

‘Such luck.’

‘Someone had to win.’

She looked at me expectantly. Aware we still had those curious eyes on us, I suggested we climb the rest of the stairs.

In the spacious and empty corridor, I told her I was here on assignment.

‘What is it this time? A feature on Kinsale? You didn’t need to check into this hotel for that.’

‘Not Kinsale.’ I cringed inwardly, already knowing where this was heading. ‘The Myrtle Bay Cup.’

Her eyes widened with amusement. ‘You? Writing a feature on horse racing?’ She laughed uncontrollably. ‘Now I’ve heard everything. You wouldn’t know one end of a horse from another.’

‘Don’t mock me. I got saddled with it.’

‘I bet you did.’

‘I’m not overly enthusiastic about this, Doris. But needs must.’

Keen to explain, to save face, I told her that another freelancing feature writer at Southern Lifestyle had been working on the feature, but he’d fallen ill and couldn’t finish it. Thankfully, he had already written half of a first draft which took in the history of the sport in Victoria, and the Myrtle Bay Cup itself. He had forwarded that along with his notes. We arranged a thirty-seventy split in my favour. It was only that arrangement and an expense account that had persuaded me to take it on. That and Ciaran, who did know quite a few things about horses and had offered to help.

By the time I had finished my explanation, she was hovering outside her door, poised to insert the key card. That was when I realised we had adjoining rooms. I had no reason at all to want to be separate from my neighbour, but I was beginning to question pure chance.