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

The Trap Shuts

Imogen was pushing the pedals of her bike, her thoughts swirling. It had been easy to convince the Mayor to let her go alone, which surely had something to do with her telling him Petra didn't need her in regards to the investigation, but on a personal matter. That made the Mayor literally close his mouth sharply and retreat back to the drawing room where the children were waiting for him with Cluedo. Imogen was already familiar with the sort of emotional clamming up he tended to do when it came to his family - and his Father especially.

Petra had also mentioned something about the dig and her treasure hunt, but in all honesty Imogen had missed it all, struck by Petra's news regarding her romantic situation. It was to be expected, to think of it now. Mr. Oakby Snr, amorously involved and buying roses, was such an improbable concept that it couldn't have lasted long - and yet, being the optimistic romantic that she was, Imogen had hoped. She was, after all, rather fond of Petra, and Imogen tended to have the highest opinion of her friends' judgement: if Petra thought him worthy of her attentions, he wasn't hopeless in Imogen's eyes either.

Imogen made a short stop in Mr. Harris' all-night garage, bought the largest container of ice cream he had, and finally arrived at the cottage Petra was renting.

The door was unlocked. Imogen found Petra on her sofa, sitting for some reason in the dark, her telly off and no drinks in front of her.

"Petra?"

"I think I am upset," Petra said quietly and looked up at Imogen. "Do you mind turning on the light?"

Imogen flipped the switch and looked at the archeologist's calm face.

"Are you?" Imogen asked sympathetically.

Petra nodded.

"Mind you, I'm not surprised," she said and sighed. "It was obvious from the start he'd end it as soon as he thought he was letting me in. And I told myself to prepare, but how could I?" She shrugged. "We don't choose whom to fall in love with."

Imogen's heart broke at how melancholy Petra's tone was. Even the woman's wild curls seemed somewhat flatter.

"I brought ice cream," Imogen offered a consolation.

Petra nodded. "Thank you, Imogen. Grab whatever bowls and spoons you find in the kitchen. I hardly have any belongings here, most of my stuff is in my flat in Abernathy, not that I have much. Too much of a nomad, I reckon."

When Imogen returned with mismatched dishes in her hands, Petra was looking into her phone. The woman accepted her portion of dairy comfort, scooped generously, and stuffed the spoon in her mouth.

"Mmm, this surely helps. I feel like a heroine in a romantic film. Except I doubt it's that moment in the plot where I feel properly down, and then he realises he's made a mistake and shows up on my doorstep with a bouquet and an apology," she said pensively. "But ice cream does make it all better. Clearly, you have more experience in heartbreak than I do. It's been so long for me! Last time I had a boy barney, we all had flip phones."

Imogen giggled. "I don't have any experience, if I'm honest. The Mayor is my first... boy."

Petra threw her a surprised look. "Oh? Well, what magic these Oakbies are! To weasel their ways into our well-guarded hearts." She shook her head and scooped more ice cream. "So, here's the plan, Imogen. We're going to finish these, and then I'll be done being sad. And then we're going to ambush my assailants in Miss Rosa's Tearooms' yard."

"What?!"

***

Imogen was once again pushing the pedals of her bike - cursing Petra, this time. The mad woman had set a trap for her attacker - who might, or might not be one of her two students - and had intended to set out in the middle of the night to wait for him or her to show up in the backyard of Miss Rosa's Tearooms, where according to The Mysteries of Fleckney Woulds there might - or might not - be buried the Fitzroy Hoard, which Petra had told Stella was the Oakby Reliquary. Neither of the treasures was there most likely. Imogen huffed an irked exhale.