Official Town Business (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book I)

Hang Up Your Fiddle

"They're keeping her here for observation," the Mayor informed Imogen, who was now pacing the lawn in front of the Headmistress' house. "They estimate that she could go home Tuesday morning," the man continued his report. He sounded tired. "So you and I will need to take care of the children for just two nights. Would you be able to organise the school and the sitter for all four of them, please? I've already spoken to Mrs. Lewis, the housekeeper, and asked her to prepare the guest rooms for Kathy and Brian, and I have a bedroom in Deirdre's house."

Imogen loudly dug her heels into the gravel. Her brain suddenly felt like a popcorn maker. Her right eye twitched, and she squeaked, "A moment, please." She then closed her eyes and pressed the phone to her forehead.

She had about a dozen questions, and most pressing one was 'What?!' She then took a deep breath and once again lifted her mobile to her ear.

"Do I understand you right you want me to stay over at your sister's place?"

"I wouldn't trust anyone else with the children," he answered, once again as if he was stating the obvious. 

Imogen's right optical organ spasmed again. She quickly organised the said and the implied and reassured the Mayor that she would take care of everything. And of course, she knew it was surely not the right time for it - but being a silly enamoured cow, she just couldn't stop wondering whether a separate bedroom for her had been requested from the aforementioned Mrs. Lewis.

"Oh, and I've had a ring from your Father." Imogen headed towards the house again. "I've forgotten about the lunch with him, and he called and—"

"Brilliant. So I am to expect him bursting through these doors any moment," the Mayor growled. 

Imogen tensed. She'd heard the enraged venomous tone from him only a handful of times before.

"He said you'd called him many times."

"I don't want to even know how he explained not picking up." 

Imogen remembered that Mr. Oakby Snr had blamed all those missed calls on his son's alleged possessiveness over Imogen, which she of course wasn't planning to inform said son of. 

"Once I finish with the paperwork for Deidre and the police," the Mayor continued in a normal voice, "I'll head your way. Tell the boys she's feeling much better and resting." His voice softened.

"I will," Imogen promised.

"They love pizza, maybe we should order some for dinner. Do Kathy and Brian enjoy pizza?"

Imogen stopped in front of the entrance door, and instead of ringing the bell as she'd intended, she pinched her right buttock. The conversation - domestic and cordial - felt surreal. The pinch hurt. So, she wasn't sleeping and was indeed making family style dinner plans with John Thomas Crispin Oakby.

"They do."

"Perfect. And please, pay for the cab for your children with my Visa."

And then the man hung up. Imogen considered another pinch, and then she shook her head and finally rang the bell.

***

While Imogen was toeing off her shoes, Mrs. Roberts showed up from out of the depth of the house.

"Ah, Ms. Fox, I should've expected to see you here." 

The woman's face coloured with a hint of mischief. Imogen threw the cleaning lady a surprised look. The ambiguous statement and the cheeky attitude were uncharacteristic to the woman. After all, those were her sober judgement, strict confidentiality, and ethical professionalism that were the reasons she was hired to take care of the wealthiest households in Fleckney Woulds.