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

Good Morning!

While the Headmistress was hurriedly listing all the reasons why Imogen was to go and have a chat with the Mayor's Father - none of the woman's statements were any different from the previous ones - Imogen was pondering a question, which somehow she'd never given a thought to before. Say, if the Headmistress found out about Imogen's visits to the upper floor of the Mayor House, what would she think? What if someone else knew? What did this development in Imogen's life meant to her socially?

Fleckney Woulds was, after all, quite a small town - and Imogen decided that she'd rather bother with this question later. If ever.

On the other hand, there had happened certain changes in Imogen's life recently; and her attitude towards her social standing had changed - and it had nothing to do with the Mayor's... private affairs.

"Mrs. Dyre, since you insist that your Father needs to be heard, I will give him a ring," Imogen said and jerked her chin up.

The Mayor had called her 'the second in command' in the town of Fleckney Woulds. The time had come to act like one.

"Oh that is such a relief, Imogen my dear." 

The Headmistress' face softened, and Imogen nodded to her own thoughts.

The women picked up the 'world's biggest cookies TM' and their cups, and headed to the table.

They had a surprisingly pleasant time together. The children played; and the ladies chatted about the upcoming opening of the arboretum and the fete that would be held the next weekend to celebrate the project. The Headmistress flattered Imogen and praised the idea; Imogen gracefully accepted the compliments.

***

On Monday, Imogen realized she was pedalling to work with twice the normal speed. She'd like to claim it had nothing to do with the additional 'work benefits' of late - but that would be a blatant lie. Imogen told herself to figuratively stay on course - she had a family dispute to overcome and a difficult conversation to orchestrate.

When she walked in, she was met with the most astonishing sound, which in her mind she'd never heard in the Town Hall in the morning - a complete and uninterrupted silence.

Imogen quickly walked up to her desk and stuck her nose into the daybook. The Mayor had no meetings till the afternoon, which meant he had nowhere to be but at his desk, loudly typing, or talking on the phone, or at least rustling with papers. None of the above could be observed in his office, when Imogen threw a glance inside.

She scratched the back of her head with a pencil; and made the only logical assumption: the Mayor had been abducted by aliens.

Shaking her head, she decided that checking his living space upstairs would still make sense; and she headed up.

She peeked into the drawing room, the kitchen, and then froze in front of the only room she hadn't checked yet - the bedroom. She knocked but the sound came out exceptionally timid. She tried again, and still she doubted it would wake up even a mouse. She uneasily cleared her throat and opened the door, just an inch or so, just enough to throw a gingerly glance.

The Mayor was sleeping, lying diagonally on his large oak bed, on his stomach, a pillow squished in his arms, his head propped on it. For some reason, another pillow was stuffed under one of his legs, bent at the knee. Altogether, the man looked uncomfortable. Imogen wondered if he was stricken by some horrid flu. It would explain the convoluted pose, and the sheer fact of the Mayor of Fleckney Woulds not being at work before the first stars had disappeared from the sky.

Imogen tiptoed inside, and hovered over the man. They had previously been quite successful at compartmentalizing their interactions: business-like on everyday basis; with the exception of several hours in this very room. Each of the aforementioned 'exceptions' had had a clearly signalled beginning - one of them suggesting it - and an ending, when they would go downstairs to return to their responsibilities.