A Woman About Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book IV)

That Wasn't Good

"Imogen," the Mayor called walking up the stairs, and Holyoake looked at him over his shoulder.

The two men did a small awkward dance, trying to give each other space; and with a quick goodbye, Will Holyoake left. Were Imogen less preoccupied with the Mayor's compromised physical and emotional state, she'd be impressed how swiftly and silently the veteran managed to move despite his limp.

The Mayor approached the li-lo.

"Can we go home, please?" he said quietly. "If I sit down here, I don't think I'll be able to get up."

Imogen jumped to her feet and rushed to him. He embraced her tightly, and she felt a shudder run through his large body.

"You're awfully calm, Imogen," the man muttered into her hair.

"Well, I haven't actually seen the body," Imogen said. "Unlike you and Mrs. Harris. C'mon, let's go home. We can't work today anyroad, the Town Hall's a crime scene. Do you think you can drive?"

The Mayor had his temple pressed to the top of Imogen's head, and she felt him nod. They slowly made their way downstairs. When they were passing by the front office, Imogen remembered something that had bothered her before, when she had been trying to reconstruct the morning in her mind.

Something prevented her from asking directly, and she pointed out, feigning ignorance, "John, you need your briefcase. Your car keys are in it."

"Oh right." The Mayor startled. "Please, wait here, I'll be quick."

Leaving her behind, he quickly dove inside - and before the door closed obstructing the view for Imogen, she saw him head towards DCI Balinson, as opposed to going to her desk. Imogen tried to chase away a vague, easy feeling, but failed.

A small crowd of whispering and gawking nosy Parkers had already gathered in the car park in front of the Town Hall, just as one would expect from the residents of Fleckney. Having politely but firmly refused to answer any questions, Imogen marched to the Mayor's Rover, pulling the man after herself by his hand. When he closed the door behind him, Imogen heard a long relieved sigh from him.

"Thank you, darling," he said in a low voice. "I'm afraid I'm much more affected than I thought. I simply have no energy to deal with the public right now."

"That's what I'm here for, John." Imogen stretched to kiss his cheek. "I'm your first mate, remember?" she repeated something he'd said to her at the very beginning of their relationship.

She hoped to cheer him up with this small heartwarming flirtation, but his countenance remained gloomy.

"So far it feels like you're always supporting me, while I'm being of no use to you," he grumbled and started the car.

"John! What nonsense!" Imogen felt almost angered by his self-deprecation. "You co-parent my children. You support me in my artistic career. And... you're my family!" she cried out.

The Mayor looked at her sideways and then returned his attention to the road.

"I feel the same," he said quietly.

He stretched his left hand to her, and she grasped it. His long strong fingers were cold.

They drove without talking for a few minutes. The Mayor was frowning, Imogen was trying to put her agitated thoughts into words. Finally, she took a measured breath and started.

"John, there will be an investigation now."

The Mayor hummed showing he was listening.

"And considering whom Hugo Staunton was married to, the police will be asking all these uncomfortable questions. Regarding everyone's past." Imogen studied the Mayor's profile, but no emotion showed in his face. "I'm quite a few years younger than you, but even I remember all those rumours about that woman."