Paint the Town Red (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book II)

The Offer She Couldn't Refuse

"Have you spent the whole day in the library?" The Titan's voice made Petra lift her eyes from the book she was reading.

"I've taken a shower, and Fellowes fed me twice," Petra answered and grinned. She was just so glad to see him! "Welcome home."

He walked up to her. Petra ogled his frame in an excellent dark-grey three-piece suit. He sat on the stool in front of her, careful not to disturb her wounded extremity propped on it.

"I feel welcomed." He smiled at her and looked her over. "Have you been bored?"

"On the contrary," Petra answered gleefully. "I've done lots of research in your library, and it's the best way to spend a day!"

He chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, let me add to your pleasure," he purred, and Petra felt her pulse quicken.

"Tell me you brought me the treats I asked for," she said.

"I have. Except I don't think you should have them after supper in case they didn't agree with your stomach."

He handed her the folder he'd been holding in his hand the whole time, and Petra gasped.

"Is this–"

"It is. The autopsy report of your corpses." He rose and walked to the table with drinks. "I've taken the liberty to refuse the photographs. Still, the mental picture is quite gruesome."

He poured himself some amber coloured drink. Petra was already absorbed in reading, so she simply lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers in the air. She heard another of his velvet chuckles, and a few seconds later a glass travelled into her palm.

"Oh I wish I finished that medical degree of mine," she grumbled and took a large sip of his excellent whiskey.

The Titan unbuttoned his jacket - Petra caught the movement in her peripheral vision - and sat in an armchair across from her.

"Why haven't you?" he asked.

"Hush, I'm still reading. I'm trying to understand the whole petechiae this and hyoid bone fragments that," Petra muttered, her eyes on the paper.

"Asphyxiation and a broken neck then?" the Titan drew out nonchalantly, and Petra whipped her head and stared at him.

He gave her a lopsided smirk.

"Do you read a lot of mystery novels?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"I've treated Chief Superintendent Huntington to lunch today," he said. "He was eager to illuminate me on the causes of death."

"Why? Coppers hate meddling civilians!" Petra pulled off her reading glasses. "Oh don't tell me! Because it's you who was asking questions."

One eyebrow of the Titan inched up, and he took a slow sip.

"Oh sure, wallow in your privilege," Petra said.

"I always do." He leaned ahead and tapped his long finger to the sheet of paper in her hand. Petra caught the pleasant smell of his cologne. "See? The female victim had her neck broken. The male died of a blunt trauma to his skull."

"It seems that the explosion concealed very little evidence." Petra was back to studying the report. "The coroner's painting quite a colourful picture here. And you're right, it all sounds utterly gruesome." Petra snapped the folder closed. "Poor girl." She sighed. "They found lots of bruises and injuries on her, dating back months. That awful, awful man!"

"You're quite innocent, darling, aren't you?" the Titan said. "Those are not signs of abuse. The current police theory is of a more risqué nature."