Wicked Words: A Honey Driver Murder Mystery (Honey Driver Mysteries) by Goodhind Jean G

Author:Goodhind, Jean G. [Goodhind, Jean G.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781909520387
Publisher: Accent Press
Published: 2014-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Doherty’s plan was to interview Tracey Maplin, the fundraiser who happened to be the last person to see the giant teddy bear before it had gone missing. She had also made the acquaintance of the students who’d stuffed Wright inside the teddy bear, thinking it great fun.

Seeing as Wright had hit his head the actions of the young men had to be condemned. He could have been suffocated, though the post mortem had stated otherwise: C.A. Wright had been skewered through the neck. The young men would have noticed that.

An appeal had been made for them to come into the station to help with police enquiries. No one had turned up. Doherty had even interviewed Mary Jane, hoping she’d remember something more about them. She proved just as unhelpful as the media appeals except that she’d insisted they were very nice and that her psychic powers judged them to be above reproach. She’d come into the office specially to offer him her unusual powers.

Blissfully unaware of his scepticism she’d breezed into his office and declined coffee, saying it clogged the psychic corridors. She’d nabbed the best chair in the office and fixed him with her unblinking eyes.

‘Have you got a resident hypnotherapist?’ she’d asked in the spirit of helpfulness. He’d replied that this particular police force didn’t hold with stuff like that.

‘Not even on a casual basis?’

He’d wanted to say, ‘we’re talking weirdness here, not sex’ – the words ‘casual’ and ‘sex’ seemed to invite the comment – but he didn’t go there.

‘Not even on a casual basis,’ he’d stated emphatically, settling himself as comfortably as he could on the corner of the desk.

‘Well, I won’t pretend that it’s easy, but if that’s the case I’ll have to do it myself. If there is any chance at all of me remembering something, we might as well go for it.’

Mary Jane had the sort of eyes that never seemed to blink but fixed on you as though you were a rodent momentarily cornered but just aching to get away. She was eccentric, and getting on in years, but Doherty knew better than to underestimate anything she did.

Scratching at two days’ growth of stubble had helped him consider whether he really wanted to go down this route. Stopping her would be easy. He could just get her driven home, but what the hell did it matter? The four young men were bound to show up eventually. If Mary Jane brought that moment a little nearer, then he’d live with it.

His reservations had kicked in right away. Mary Jane was tall, bony, and colourfully dressed. She dominated his office, her bright colours lording it over the metal filing cabinets and the grey blandness of a wooden desk and a two-year-old computer.

He’d felt like Alice in Wonderland, shrinking in size and not likely to get back to normal until Mary Jane had gone home.

‘First I have to make myself comfortable. I have to relax. Can you please close the door?’

While Mary Jane had

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