After all the shocks of the last few hours, it was impossible to be surprised. Perhaps she was married to Jeremy Brightwater, just to complete the circle of ‘friends’.
She lowered the gun. "Is your name Walthenson?”
“Yes.”
“My mother told me about you. She’s been hiring PI’s for a few months now, trying to find out if he’s screwing the office manager. All I know is that he’s a thorough bastard. If you want to know, both brothers were as bad as each other.”
“I take it Jennifer Jones is your mother?”
“She is, sometimes. I think I drew the short straw when it came to parents.”
Harry thought it odd, lying on the floor, tied up, and having a conversation as if the situation was entirely different. It was, he thought, a slight worry that she hadn’t offered to untie him, and she still had the gun.
“Being her daughter, perhaps you might know. Is she having an affair with Joseph? Al seemed to think she was and wanted me to keep an eye on him for just that reason.”
There was just an almost imperceptible change in her expression, almost as if she had expected the question.
"You have to be kidding. She absolutely hates Joseph, and so do I. I can assure you she is not having an affair with him, or anyone else for that matter."
She sounded believable, but Harry knew she was not exactly telling the truth, not all of it anyway. There was still that other person in the car when she had driven off from the station the other day.
Cathy crossed the room towards him, put her gun on the floor, and leaned over to untie the knots.
"Roll over. I hope this doesn't ruin my nails," she muttered under her breath.
So did he. Hell hath no fury than a woman who wrecks her nails. That much he knew from his sister Corinne.
It took a few minutes and, thankfully, no broken nails to set himself free. As he slowly stood, urging life back into his limbs, he said, "We should call the police."
© Charles Heath 2016-2018
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