The Double Dip (A Honeybee Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Katherine Hayton

  Sally felt a rush of gratitude. Exposing her previous life to inspection was hard enough without eyes focusing on her every move as well. “I didn’t.” She shrugged. “Well, I made a few inquiries here and there, when I was feeling particularly sore or scared. Each time I gave it serious thought, Steve popped into my mind and brought the whole venture to a halt.”

  “If you’d reported your situation to the police, we could have coordinated with social services to make supervision mandatory to all visits.”

  The words sent a rush of sadness through her body. “Jason wouldn’t have been curtailed, not by a government department. I didn’t think any imposed protocols would help, otherwise, I would have gone.”

  “Wouldn’t it have landed him in trouble if it was mandated?” Alice glanced over, her eyes flicking away as soon as they caught Sally’s own. “I thought the courts took child safety seriously.”

  “If Gloria had agreed to it. She was already accepting money she knew full well came from criminal proceeds. I felt sure if Jason threatened to cut her off, she’d comply with anything he asked.”

  “It’s a fair point.” Hogarth shifted in his seat, glancing toward the window when his companion tripped over yet another item left out in the grass. “Most of the systems rely on the primary custodian being in full agreement. It’s more often a case of getting them to send the child along to even the supervised visits. If she wasn’t worried about that aspect, then yeah. Steve would have been in danger.”

  A tear dripped down her cheek and Sally brushed it away. It was silly how the sergeant’s reassurance made her feel better about the old decision. Especially given how everything turned out in the end.

  “Are you nearly finished in here, Sally?” Dave Wilkins called out.

  She looked up, startled, having fallen into a reverie. It was the last day in the temp job and she’d been cataloging the boxes of old housing models when her mind wandered.

  Now, she tossed the last plywood structure in with all the rest. “I’m just finishing up a few odds and ends. Give me ten minutes and I should be done.”

  Dave stuck his head around the corner and smiled. He was from the liquidator’s office and had been working in the office beside her for the past few days, making the final decisions on what stayed, went, and got trashed.

  After a month on her own, having company was a pleasant change. Even if they didn’t talk much just knowing someone else was in the building made a difference.

  “I’m making a coffee if you want one.”

  Sally shook her head with some regret. The pick-me-up would be lovely, but her stomach was sour from last night’s overdose of wine. If she added coffee, antacid would have to follow, and her tongue was already feeling dry without adding that chalky taste.

  “You know, our office is looking for a junior to assist with some senior lawyers. Not a paralegal or anything like that, just a PA to help with scheduling appointments and typing up reports. Would you be interested?”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise. So much so, she struggled to reply. Dave had popped his head around the corner to check on her again before she managed to croak out her answer, “Yes.”

  “We’ve already got your details from the temp agency, so I’ll let the partners know. Hopefully, I’ll be able to give you a call tomorrow with an answer.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Sally said, then blushed. You don’t need to gush all over him, girl. It’s just a mundane job.

  “Cool, cool.” Dave disappeared from view again, rattling mugs in the small kitchenette.

  Sally found her mind wandering. He was such a nice man, just a few years older than her, and according to the status of his bare fingers, wasn’t married. If only she’d stumbled across him down at the local pub all those years ago, instead of tripping over Jason.

  A flush caught her off-guard and Sally hurried to the bathroom to put cold water on her face. Her skin recently had a permanent glow to it. Not attractive, more like a nasty sunburn. When she peered at it closely, the network of burst capillaries and swollen veins told her it wasn’t the blush of good health.

  Her hands were shaking as she wiped them off. For the past couple of weeks, they’d been doing that more and more. The only thing that stopped the trembling also appeared to be the root cause. Still, Sally counted down how long until she could leave the office on her lunch break to get a drink.

  One box left. With her eyes on the prize, Sally sifted through the junk and made a note of every piece inside in record time. When she fixed the sticky list to the side and taped along the join, it was with a sense of relief.

  “All done?”

  “Yep.” Sally stood back and put her hands behind her back to hide the tremor. “Is there anything else I can do to help you out around here, or should I call it a day?”

  “I think that’s everything.” Dave had a quick check in all directions. “Thanks for your help with all of this. If either me or my colleagues don’t get in touch tomorrow, it’ll be the day after for sure.”

  “Thank you. It’s been nice working with you these last few days.”

  “You, too.” He disappeared from view and Sally gathered up her things, preparatory to leaving. With the hope of a new job coming soon, it wasn’t tinged with the usual dismay.

  Outside, the northwesterly kept a pocket of overheated air trapped around the city. The arch of cloud off toward the hills showed no sign of dissipating.

  The call of a dim bar grew even stronger, and she headed for an old favorite down the center of Rosemary Lane. The upstairs hike was worth it as the cool air-conditioning offset the effects of her short stint outside.

  “Here you go, love,” the bartender said, placing a burger and beer down on the counter. “Mind your step.”

  Despite his warning, Sally still jolted her knee when the ledge a yard back from the bar guard her off-guard. Not enough of a misstep to lose her food or drink, so only her pride took a small hit.

  The window in the rear of the bar looked across to a variety of different shops, all set one story above the lane. A magic shop, a florist, and an optometrist made strange bedfellows, but they all kept up a steady flow of trade. Sally rested her hand on her chin while she waited for the meal to cool down, her gaze flicking between the foot traffic opposite and the condensation trickling down the side of her beer.

  Over the protest of her acid stomach, she took a long swallow, closing her eyes as the amber liquid flowed down her throat. The anticipation of the first hit of alcohol was nearly as sweet as the actuality. Her body relaxed long before the actual medicine could get to work.

  “Mom! Look at this!”

  Sally’s eyes flew open at the cry. It sounded exactly like Steve. When a boy ran to press his nose against the magic shop window, she gave a shaky laugh. She didn’t recognize the overweight woman huffing and puffing up the stairs after him.

  Her outfit looked more expensive than even the best second-hand treasure Sally had rooted out of a St. Vincent de Paul donation rack. The curl and sheen of the woman’s black hair made her put a hand up to her own, a mess of dry strands and split ends.

  “Can I have this one, please?” The boy turned, and Sally frowned. He didn’t just sound like Steve, he was the spitting image. The woman bent down to talk at the boy’s level, her murmur lost across the divide.

  “But, Mommy.” The long drawn out whine set Sally’s teeth on edge. Definitely, a dead ringer for Steve when he got in a mood.

  Then the boy saw her watching. His sullen face brightened as though a light switch had been flicked on. “Sally.” His pudgy fingers jerked in and out in a strange wave as he stared across.

  The woman caught hold of the boy’s hand and peered at Sally. She raised her hand in a small wave, still unsure of what was going on.

  “Can I play with Sally?”

  “No, you can’t,” the woman responded, her voice sharp. “I’m picking up my glasses, then we’re going home.” She dragged Steve along a few steps until he decide
d it was easier to obey than continue to put up a fight. They disappeared into the optometrist’s office.

  Although her meal had cooled enough to be edible on the hot day, Sally pushed the plate and her nearly full glass of beer away from her. A headache pulsed along the line of her temple, making it hard to think.

  Steve was in an optometrist’s office with somebody he called ‘Mom.’ Shouldn’t that be a title reserved solely for Gloria?

  Sally stood up, turned, and bolted out the door and down the stairs. Gloria wasn’t gay and, even if she had been, that woman was well out of her league. A horrible thought pulsed in the back of her mind, keeping time with the pounding of her headache.

  Gloria better have a good explanation for what Sally had just seen, or all hell was about to break loose.

  Chapter Seven

  Detective Sergeant Hogarth studied Sally with such an intense stare that Alice thought it would soon burn into her skin. She shifted in her seat, wanting to go to the window again to check on the Detective Constable still wandering about outside, but also not wanting to abandon Sally at such an awkward time.

  “You’re talking about Gloria Wesley, aren’t you?” Although Hogarth posed it as a question, he nodded before Sally had a chance to answer. “I should have remembered when you first mentioned her, but I was still waiting for you to get to the point.”

  Alice understood the thoughts that would now be flying around in the man’s head. If it was anything like the first time she’d heard the story, he’d be thinking of the aftermath of Sally’s crime. Thinking of the conviction that followed for grievous bodily harm—the damage too extreme to label as assault.

  “Why did you beat her?” Hogarth moved his legs and flicked his notepad pages, forward and back. “Was it just because she was lying about the boy?”

  At the use of the word ‘just’ Sally flinched. “I stayed with an abusive partner in order to ensure that boy was safe.”

  “For how long?”

  “Two years.”

  A tear trickled slowly down Sally’s face and Alice tapped against her wrist. She desperately wanted her friend to stop feeling sad but didn’t know how to go about it.

  Hogarth cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you tell anybody at the time?”

  Sally gave a short laugh, so harsh it held more in common with a bark. “It all happened too quickly for that. All my rage at the situation came exploding out of me the same day I found out about Steve. There wasn’t time to talk to someone. Gloria told me the truth and the next minute, I was being led from the scene in cuffs.”

  Alice stared down at the carpet, her throat working but not making a sound. She’d combed through the court documents, pouring over everything she could find on- and off-line related to the case. She’d read the description of the damage Sally had done. Even now, having known it for months, she still couldn’t reconcile the horrific deeds with her gentle friend.

  “Perhaps we should move on,” Alice said in a quiet voice, blinking hard. “Since we all know what happened next, we should continue—”

  “I’ve been trying to move you along for the past”—Hogarth checked his watch and double checked it with the clock on the wall—“forty minutes.” He seemed disappointed that was all the time that had elapsed. “Now we get to something more interesting, I wouldn’t mind spending more time right here.”

  “What do you want to know?” Sally’s voice held such levels of resignation it was as though she’d given up all hope.

  “We know the boy—”

  “Steve,” Sally interrupted with a ghost of a frown. “His name was Steve.”

  “Right. We know he wasn’t—isn’t—Jason’s son. How much more did Gloria disclose to you?”

  “About the fraud?”

  Hogarth nodded.

  Sally tipped her head to one side, eyes narrowing as she chewed on her bottom lip. “I remember her telling me that was the reason she did it. She’d made up a story about Steve being her son because she wanted to get cash out of him.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you if that was even on the same day or when I talked to her later.”

  The sergeant’s head jerked up. “You spoke with her?” When Sally agreed, “After the attack? When?”

  “She was still in the hospital and I’d been sentenced but not yet sent to prison. I went to tell her I was sorry.” Sally ran a hand through her hair, taking out the tight ponytail and redoing it, even tighter. “It was the truth, as well. I don’t know why I took it all out on her.”

  “Because you wouldn’t have survived taking it out on Jason.” Alice blushed when two sets of eyes turned around to fix on her. “Not that I mean you thought it through that clearly, just…”

  As she trailed off, Sally tilted her head forward. “You’re right. The calculation might have been in my subconscious or gone in and out of my brain in an instant, but it happened. I worked out the damage I’d be in if I ever told Jason he didn’t have a son, and—”

  “Wait!” Detective Sergeant Hogarth held up a finger, staring at Sally wide-eyed. “You didn’t tell him?”

  Sally laughed, and Alice understood why. The man’s expression was so over the top, it made her feel like joining in.

  “If I’d told him, Jason would have killed me. No ifs. No buts. There was one relationship in his life that he managed to keep intact, pure. Nothing he did ever threatened the bond he had with his son. To find that out?” She drew a finger along her throat and crossed her eyes.

  “I suppose it explains why he never pressed charges against Gloria.” Hogarth still stared in front of him, puzzled and wide-eyed.

  “He wouldn’t have been able to recover the money anyway, would he? Once you lot arrested and charged him for the last robbery he’d been involved in, he was out of the picture.” Alice flicked her gaze around the sergeant’s face, everywhere but his eyes. “And how would he be able to prove she defrauded him if he couldn’t explain the cash in the first place?”

  “Well, that’s why we thought he left it all alone. Who did end up telling him?”

  Alice got up and walked over to the window, staring intently out at nothing. Behind her, Sally’s breathing grew shallow.

  “Are you two seriously suggesting that no one ever bothered to tell Jason that Steve wasn’t his son?”

  “When he got out of prison, that’s why he came straight to me.” Sally’s voice overflowed with misery. “Not to apologize for what he’d done to me but to attack me for what I’d done to him. He blamed me for his loss of contact with Steve. He still believes it was my actions in beating up Gloria that cost him the relationship with his son.”

  As Alice turned back to the room, Hogarth buried his face into his hands, shoulders shaking. “I can’t believe this,” he said, clearly believing every word.

  “I assumed someone else would break the news to him.” Sally stood up, cupping her elbows in her hands. “Even now, I’m amazed some prison snitch didn’t kill himself trying to be the first to tell Jason the good news.”

  “If he thought his relationship with his son was broken, why on earth did he confess to the robbery to begin with? We put the warrant together a few days after you were locked up, and he practically tripped over himself to tell us everything.”

  “Because even Jason knew you guys had enough evidence to put him away for a long stretch.” Sally paced the length of the lounge as graceful as a dancer. “He mightn’t be the brightest bulb in the room, but he can do simple math. A third off his sentence for confessing. Another third for declaring his guilt in court.”

  “And I bet he wanted to get out as early as he could,” Alice said with a small grin. Jason had disturbed her life so much over the past couple of months, reliving his comeuppance made her feel good. “After all, he had a growing son to take care of.”

  Sally burst into laughter. Even when she slapped a hand across her mouth, it exploded out her nose. “I shouldn’t laugh,” she said between bursts, eyes tearing, this time with good humor. “I really shouldn�
��t.”

  The sound of pounding feet up the back path broke off everyone’s merriment. Alice took two steps toward the rear door, her face mottled with concern, and had her hand on the doorknob when DC Willington threw himself into the room.

  “I’ve found it,” he said with a mixture of excitement and delight. “We mightn’t have a body here right now, but I’ve certainly found the crime scene.”

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s not what you think,” Alice repeated as she followed the two officers out the back and down to the garage. “I understand it looks like blood, but it’s just some spilled drink.”

  “How about you let us be the judge of that?” Hogarth had lost some of his friendliness in light of the new information. “Willington? Call into the station and tell them we need some crime scene techs down here, right now.”

  He turned and held up a hand, stopping Alice and Sally in their tracks. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but there’s no way we’re letting you near that garage. Get inside and wait for me there.”

  “But we—” Sally took a step back as the DS leveled a glare at her.

  “What part of that instruction are you having trouble with?”

  “None of it.” Alice grabbed her friend by the arm and marched her back to the house, checking once over her shoulder to see Hogarth still staring after them. “They won’t listen even if we do explain. We’ll be better off in here, anyway.”

  “I wish this day was over.” Sally sank back into her previous seat on the couch and buried her face into her hands. “I’m sure it’s been going on for at least thirty or forty hours already. Surely, that’s more than enough?”

  Alice shook her head. The clock on the wall was adamant the day had only just edged into the mid-afternoon. There were still plenty more hours left for further things to go horribly wrong.

  “Maybe we should have started off with the body.” Sally looked up, her eyes swollen and red. “Hogarth kept saying we were taking too much time.”