The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Rhys Holyoake Recalls

"I'm sure we can somehow access the list of CyberFleck employees," Viola answered, frowning, "Legally, I mean. But how can we know which one of them works for Carolina and her associates?"

"Carolina?" Rhys asked. "What Carolina?"

"Carolina Viviani." Imogen saw his hand with the third scone to hover near his mouth. "Do you know her?"

Holyoake made a low rumbling noise in his throat, and Viola's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"She... approached me," he said and shot a side glance at his wife. "About six months ago. She worked in a small jewellery shop in Abernathy. I was browsing for a gift for you." He looked at Viola. "Those earrings you liked, the dangly ones. Anyroad, she was very helpful - and then sort of tried to... chat me up."

"Good thing you didn't take her on her offer," Viola said in a tone as neutral as distilled water. "Imogen thinks Carolina Viviani might be involved in two murders. Both victims had most likely been in a relationship with her." Viola's cat eyes seemed even greener than usual. "Both were found with six stab wounds to the chest."

Rhys blinked purposefully a couple of times and then cleared his throat.

"Well, our conversation wasn't particularly long," he said to Imogen, glimpsing at his wife from time to time. "She backed off pretty quickly. But I got the impression that she was offering a sort of an... arrangement. Not just getting a drink or–"

"A one-off?" Viola supplied in a fake helpful tone.

"Oh dear," Fiona exhaled in the background.

"Yeah," Rhys said, clearly rather uncomfortable. "You see, she wasn't like those young birds who are in it for shag, or going to a pub, or to take a bloke shopping for shoes or lingerie. She's all put together, elegant, lots of expensive jewellery, and nice hair, and– I don't know how to put it. Professional?"

"Like an elite escort," Viola once again provided 'assistance.'

"Yeah..." Rhys' shoulders were growing tenser and tenser. "And she knew who I was, that's for sure. Not just by name, but it's like she had some background info on me. I didn't think of it at the time, but it's like she knew what I liked, where I went, what I did in my free time."

"You own a lot of property in the county," Imogen pointed out. "And if we're right, they have access to your insurance and bank information. It might not be common knowledge among the residents of Fleckney, and you might not be an Oakby or a Fitzroy or a Bjornsson, but financially–"

"You'd make an excellent sugar daddy," Viola finished Imogen's sentence.

Rhys met his wife's eyes. He lifted one eyebrow at her, and she gave him a caustic smile. Rhys' eyebrow climbed higher, and then his lips twitched. Viola tilted her head, almost unnoticeably, as if taunting him - and he chuckled low in his throat. It was as if they were engaged in a silent, non-verbal banter, which felt charged and rather... carnal. Imogen was only grateful when Holyoake broke the eye contact with his wife and turned to Imogen again.

"So, there are murders too," he said. "No wonder Oakby got his knickers in a twist over your sleuthing. Didn't you get accosted with a shotgun by that cleaning lady, and then cornered by Buric last year? The git was a proper swine. I'd had some aggro with him years ago."

"If memory serves me right, you tossed him across the room because he put his hand on my knee," Viola said in an acidic tone. "That's not exactly the same. Imogen solved double manslaughter that time."

"And then the Mayor tossed him across the room," Imogen said quietly.

"Atta boy!" Holyoake chuckled.

"But you're right," Imogen said mournfully. "It's all a bit too serious now. Before, when there were just the break-ins, and when I thought it was Poppy being a Robin Hood– And now it turns out two men are dead, and we might have a cybercrime net on our hands. Maybe it's time to go to the police," she finished with a sigh.

"You have no proof to any of your brilliant ideas, Imogen," Viola reminded her softly.

"I know. But I think if I just talk to Andrew and tell him what I think, maybe it'll help their investigation a bit."

"You're the boss," Viola said. "I'm just your Watson. We'll do what you think is right."

Imogen nodded morosely and drank her tea. After they finished their drinks and treats, Rhys left to the construction site to arrange the transportation of the container, and Viola drove Fiona to the police station, dropping Imogen off at the Firs. Having suddenly gotten an early evening off, Imogen decided it was time to try a new recipe from a cookbook she'd bought a week before. Cooking always made her feel better - and think better. By the time she threw sofrito on a pan, she had two - and a half - potentially brilliant ideas.