Read Something in the Blood (A Honey Driver Murder Mystery) for Free Online Page B

turning her back on her mother.
    ‘I’ve got a stall in the Guildhall Market. It’s called, Rice, Spice and All Things Nice.’
    Honey looked suitably impressed.
    Unfortunately, so did her mother.
    Her mother clapped her hands. ‘There! You can go on your date and enjoy yourself.’
    ‘No, Mother. I cannot. Jeremiah is taking over reception for this morning only. I have an appointment with the police and tonight I have to work. I haven’t got time for dates with your dentist’s friend.’
    Honey slid herself out of the ergonomically designed swivel chair. Jeremiah eased himself into it.
    ‘He’s phoned the police prior to you going there,’ Jeremiah went on, swinging his long limbs into the chair and sliding it back into place.
    ‘If that’s the case, I can’t understand why he hasn’t gone along himself, ‘said Honey while carefully avoiding her mother’s enquiring expression.
    ‘He’s not one for men in uniforms,’ Jeremiah said. ‘Reminds him of the bad old days. Now,’ he said, leaning threateningly at the computer screen. ‘No need to explain the system to me. Once you’ve used one, you’ve used them all.’
    Honey grabbed her overlarge bag and slung it over her shoulder.
    Her mother followed her to the door and looked worried. ‘Why are you going to the police station?’
    Determined that everything should run smoothly in her absence, Honey ignored the question and addressed Jeremiah. ‘There’s a party for lunch coming in at twelve.’
    Receiving no reply from her daughter, Gloria aimed her question at Jeremiah. ‘Why is she going to the police station?’
    Jeremiah was still taking in the orders Honey was throwing at him.
    Exasperated, Gloria Cross slammed her hand down on the desk.
    ‘Why is my daughter going to the police station? What has she done?’
    Those guests sitting in the comfortable settees around the reception area, waiting for taxis, teas or their check out bill, fell to silence. Curious eyes turned in her direction.
    Honey played to the crowd.
    ‘They’re accusing me of planning to bury my mother under the patio. I told them it wasn’t true and that I’d much prefer to drown you in malmsey, but they didn’t believe me. Said they didn’t think anyone would ruin good alcohol unless they were batty – or desperate!’
    ‘You’re batty!’ said her mother, looking thoroughly annoyed.
    The guests grinned, chuckled and exchanged knowing looks. Obviously, they too had mothers prone to cause mad moments of sheer exasperation.
    Honey threw a swift thank you to Jeremiah who merely nodded and proceeded to tidy up the whole online booking system and the paperwork around him.
    Getting to the door had been easy enough compared to getting out of it. Her mother wasn’t giving up that easily.
    ‘Right. So you’re off to the police station on official hotel business. That shouldn’t take long. From there you can make your way to church.’
    ‘Mother! I don’t do church.’
    Too late. A set of impeccably manicured nails were already tapping out a number on her mobile, a determined jut to her chin and a ‘no nonsense’ look in her eyes. ‘Right. Father Trevor’s expecting you.’
    ‘I’m not a Catholic.’
    ‘Well I think you should be.’
    ‘My father wasn’t.’
    Her mother crossed herself. Becoming a Catholic had come late in life – once all the divorces were behind her.
    ‘The service finishes at twelve. No need to hurry back. That nice poof in reception will take care of things until you get back.’
    What was the point? Honey shook her head. Her mother didn’t know how to spell politically correct let alone apply it. She was one of the old school and not up to speed on courteous terminology.
    As she approached North Parade heading for Manvers Street , Honey began questioning Casper’s generosity in sending someone over to help out. Casper could be very nice when he wanted to be. At other times he could be downright ruthless.
    On her way there she plucked out