Chapter Thirteen

‘Kerry Standen has a history of mental illness,’ Dan said, easing his legs out in front of him on the couch. He was just back from the Police station, and ready for dinner.

‘Really?’ Mike said with more than a touch of sarcasm, ‘you don’t say.’

‘Yes,’ Dan replied, frowning, ‘I do say.’

Mike grinned as he crossed to the back door with a plate of chops in one hand and BBQ tongs in the other.

‘She’s supposed to be on medication but doesn’t always take it apparently, and has self harmed before.’

‘You could see the scars on her wrists,’ Molly said, coming from the kitchen with a glass of Riesling for herself and a Corona for him.

‘Apparently old Ben was her first serious boyfriend for a while, and the family were basically all hoping they’d get married and settle down and that would help her keep on track. Obviously he wasn’t the right choice, and when she realised he was in trouble and probably going to jail, it flipped her out.’

‘Did it what.’ Molly sipped her wine and let the smooth fruitiness envelope her tongue before sliding down her throat.

Mike came back inside with an empty plate, the BBQ sizzling and smoking behind him on the deck.

‘And old man Standen obviously knew about all that, but didn’t bother telling us?’ His lip curled with disdain. ‘It might’ve been nice to know, aye?’

Dan shrugged. ‘I guess he figured we were never going to have anything to do with her, it was Ben he was after. If everything had gone to plan, we would have got the snaps and done a report and never heard from them again.’ He took a long, contemplative draught from his bottle. ‘Of course, sometimes things don’t go to plan.’

Molly made a harrumphing noise in her throat as she looked at the three parallel red scratches down her husband’s cheek.

‘What?’ he asked cautiously.

‘Three good things came out of all this,’ she said, ‘firstly, we got paid with no quibbling, even when you added a bit on to the bill.’

‘That’s true, prompt payment is always good.’

‘Secondly, we all survived, when it could have gone horribly wrong.’

Dan glanced pointedly down at his torso, and Mike subconsciously rubbed his swollen knuckles.

‘Within reason, I mean,’ Molly added, and they both nodded acceptance.

‘And the third good thing?’ Dan asked.

‘We got a very bad man off the street?’ Mike suggested, and she shook her head.

‘Well, that too, but no.’

Dan and Mike glanced at each other quizzically.

‘The third good thing?’ Dan prompted his wife.

‘The third good thing is...I’m not doing any more honey traps!’ she told him firmly.

‘Hmmm.’ He gave her a frown, and she raised her eyebrows, giving him defiant.

He put his hands up defensively.

‘Okay, okay! No more honey traps!’

 

###