Chocolate, Lies, and Murder (Amber Fox Mysteries Book #4)

by Sibel Hodge

  I pursed my lips, wondering if he really was cured. When I was a police officer for seventeen years, I’d had experience with psychiatrists and people with mental disorders, and half the time you couldn’t tell the difference between the doctor and the patient.

  ‘Just out of interest, what are Sporkites like?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, they’re multicolored and small.’ He put his hand in the air at a height of about three feet. ‘About so high. They have good old-fashioned family values, and they’re peaceful creatures. They wouldn’t tell me to hurt Aleesha.’

  ‘Right. So, you definitely haven’t sent her any more notes or chocolate knickers?’

  He put his hand on his heart. ‘I swear I haven’t.’

  ‘Where did you buy them from before?’ I thought it would be a good avenue to check out and see if he was telling the truth. Maybe I could solve this case today by proving he’d bought the knickers, and that would get Aleesha out of my life pronto.

  ‘There’s an underwear shop called “Lace” in the mall that sells them. I got them from there.’

  My gaze wandered back to the painting. ‘Do you still think you come from Planet Spork?’

  ‘Only on a Tuesday.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘There’s a time warp that happens every Tuesday, and I can go back and forth between Spork and Earth.’

  I did a mental head-banging against the wall. ‘Right. So, let me get this straight. You’re saying Suzy Fox has cured you of the erotomania thing where you thought Aleesha was in love you, but not of the delusional thing where you think you’re Dr Spork from Planet Spork?’

  He nodded vigorously. His ponytail fell out of the rubber band and frizzed out like a crash helmet around him. ‘I am Dr Spork.’

  I stood up to leave. ‘Well, thanks very much for your time.’

  He wiped his hands on his jeans and stood up. ‘Anytime. It’s been nice talking to you. If you fancy a trip to Spork with me, come back on Tuesday.’ He smiled.

  I closed the door behind me, wondering if he was telling the truth about Aleesha, or whether it was all an act on his part. As an investigator, it was my job to weed out the lies from the truth, and I’d become pretty good at it, if I say so myself. Hundreds of clues give people away when they’re telling fibs. Some of them are so subtle—a twitch here, an eye movement here—that they don’t even know they’re doing it. Unless, of course, they’re completely nutso and actually believe their own lies, which could easily be the case here since he was clearly still delusional. But the weird thing was I actually believed him.

  Chapter 3

  My car still had all four wheels when I got back to it, although I had a rather strange message keyed into the bonnet that said, ‘I Went To Sex Shcool’. Charming. I didn’t know if they taught any other subjects at sex school, but it was safe to say the pupils would’ve failed spelling. When it came to cars and hair I was a little accident prone. I’d developed car-wrecking into a fine art, and I didn’t really relish the thought of taking the Toyota back to the garage that handled our insurance repairs to get it re-sprayed. The owner already thought I was mad. Can’t think why.

  As I slid behind the wheel, my mobile rang. I checked the number. ‘Hey, Dad.’

  ‘Hi, Amber. What are you up to? Do you want to come round for lunch? Suzy’s coming, too.’

  Hmm, just the person I wanted to see. Plus, I’d get some of my mum’s fab cooking, and since I hadn’t eaten my cake this morning, I was probably in dire need of some carbs. Except…I still wasn’t hungry, which was totally weird for me.

  ‘I’d love to. See you in ten.’ I hung up and motored over to Mum and Dad’s house.

  I rang the doorbell and Dad, looking incredibly normal for once, answered. He’d been a workaholic policeman for years until his retirement, when he’d swapped workaholicness for depression and didn’t know what to do with himself. That was until he started the Neighbourhood Watch Group to rid the local area of dastardly demons. In his mission to fight crime, he’d disguised himself as a tree, a tramp, and an undercover burger chef, amongst other things. It had been a bit of a sore point between him and Mum, since she’d been a police widow when he worked long hours and had hoped to spend more quality time with him after he left the force.

  I gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘What, no undercover stakeouts today, then?’ I grinned.

  He checked over his shoulder to make sure Mum wasn’t there. ‘Well, you know I’ve reached an agreement now with your mother where I can do it part time, as long as I don’t dress as a tramp again.’

  I nodded.

  ‘I was contacted by the security department at the Mall. They heard I caught the thief at Burger Land and wanted to hire me as an undercover store detective, since they’ve had a spate of thefts going on lately.’ He glanced down at his worn jeans and checked shirt. ‘I’m just disguised as an ordinary shopper at the moment.’

  ‘I bet Mum’s very glad,’ I said, remembering the stinky tramp outfit.

  ‘She doesn’t know I’m working again yet. She didn’t want me to take on anything else leading up to the wedding in case I got too involved, so I told her I’ve just been shopping for a suit to take to Vegas. Although I think this job could be a way to spend time with her and do my Neighbourhood Watch work. You know how she loves to shop!’

  ‘Haven’t you got a suit yet?’ My eyes widened. ‘You’ve got seven days. No, six days since we’re flying out early.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen one. I just haven’t had time to get it yet.’

  ‘Is that you, Amber?’ Mum poked her head out of the kitchen door.

  ‘Don’t tell her about the mall job. I don’t want her to get the hump with me.’ Dad mimed a lip-zipping action to me before I went over to give her a hug.

  ‘How are you?’ Mum squeezed me tight.

  I could smell the aroma of herbs and spices in her hair. Shame I’d never inherited her cooking genes.

  ‘I’m good, thanks. I’m working on a new case.’ I scrunched up my face in annoyance. Usually, I’d be excited at the prospect of solving an investigation, but what with the wedding and Miss Camel Hoof on the block, I felt a bit too twitchy for my liking.

  ‘What case? How can you start a new case seven days before the wedding?’ She pulled back, eyebrows furrowed together with concern. ‘What about all the last minute things you need to sort out?’

  Mum had a way of getting information out of me that I didn’t always want to share, and somehow, talking about Brad and Aleesha being in close quarters twenty-four-seven would make me even more stressed. Maybe if I didn’t talk about it, nothing would happen. Yep, denial could be good.

  I waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, I’ll solve it before the wedding, no problem.’ I desperately hoped that was true as I imagined Aleesha trying to give Brad a private full frontal Double FF showing at her love nest.

  ‘Do you want coffee?’ Dad asked.

  ‘Ooh, you read my mind. Hey, where’s Sabre?’ I glanced around for Dad’s completely nuts, ex-police German shepherd dog.

  Dad rolled his eyes as we all wandered into the kitchen. ‘He’s in love.’

  ‘With what?’ I dreaded to think. Sabre had a tendency to bang his head, run around like a nutter, and nearly hump people to death. I’d been on the receiving end of a humping-by-sabre incident, and it wasn’t pretty. He hadn’t been right for a long time, bless him. If he could talk, he’d have some very strange conversations.

  ‘He’s in love with a cat.’ Mum stirred a pot of chilli on the hob.

  ‘Whose cat?’

  ‘Next door got this rescue cat a week ago, and it keeps coming in our garden for a crap.’ Dad pulled a disgusted face. ‘I thought Sabre would go mental when he saw it, but it was the weirdest thing. The cat walked up to Sabre like it owned the place, and Sabre went all submissive and flirty.’

  I laughed. ‘Has he tried to hump it yet?’

  Mum shook her head. ‘No, not even a mini hump. They spend all their time
together snuggled up in the garden now. See for yourself.’

  I wandered into the lounge and looked out the doors that led to the garden. Sure enough, giant Sabre lay on the ground looking all Zen-like and calm, which was very unlike him. On top of his back a tiny little black and white kitten kneaded her paws on his fur.

  Going back to the kitchen, I said, ‘So the diet didn’t work to calm him down, but a little kitten did? Strange.’

  ‘Well, if it keeps him calm, I’m all for it.’ Dad handed me a steaming mug of coffee, and I set it on the Shaker-style island in the centre of the room.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ Mum lifted the lid from a pan of rice and checked it. She waved a hand. ‘What am I talking about, of course you are.’

  ‘Actually, I’m not.’ I stared at the pans and willed my appetite to come back.

  She turned to me and put one hand on her hip. ‘OK, what’s wrong? Are you and Brad having problems?’ She gave me a wide-eyed, worried look. ‘Because you know it’s perfectly normal to have second thoughts before you get married, don’t you?’ She pointed a wooden spoon at me. ‘But you two are made for each other, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.’

  ‘Oh, look, Suzy’s here.’ I pointed out the kitchen window at Suzy’s brand new sleek Mercedes pulling up on the drive. If in doubt, deflect the conversation away from yourself.

  ‘Hello.’ Suzy walked into the kitchen in a charcoal grey Karen Millen suit and high-heeled stilettos. Her long hair was Timotei advert shiny, and she smelled of exotic flowers.

  She rested her Prada bag on the island. I bumped her shoulder against mine, which always wound her up for some reason. ‘Hey, sis, how’s it going?’

  She glanced down at her shoulder like I’d just contaminated her with Ebola. ‘I’m very well, thanks for asking.’ She perched primly on the edge of a breakfast stool and wiped her shoulder. For a psychiatrist, she had some serious issues of her own.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to pick your brain,’ I said.

  She peered at me, perfectly plucked eyebrows raised in suspicion. Suzy had a tendency of trying to over-analyze Dad and me, which gave me great pleasure in winding her up. I know, I’m a terrible sister.

  ‘Do you finally want to talk about your commitment issues?’ she asked. ‘Are you calling the wedding off? Because I’m surprised it’s gone this far, to be honest.’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Have imaginary people been trying to kill you again?’ She tilted her head.

  ‘Hey, they weren’t imaginary.’

  ‘I see. Not imaginary like the imaginary voices you say you have in your head?’

  ‘No, they’re both real. It’s just no one has actually tried to kill me again this week.’

  She rested her hands in her lap. ‘And is that a good thing or a bad thing?’

  I chewed on my lip, thinking. ‘I can’t confirm or deny that.’

  ‘Say the first thing that comes into your head.’ She narrowed her eyes.

  ‘Boobs,’ I blurted out. God, I had Double FFs on the brain. Damn Aleesha.

  She gave me a tight-lipped smile. ‘Interesting. And how does that make you feel?’

  ‘What, the word, or the actual boobs?’ I asked innocently.

  ‘Either. You tell me; there’s no right or wrong answer here.’

  ‘Funny, because I feel like you’re going to give me a detention if I don’t say what you’re expecting.’

  ‘With you, nothing would surprise me.’ She took a napkin off the island, unflapped it, and put it neatly on her lap.

  ‘Anyway, I want your professional opinion on something,’ I said as Mum dished up bowls of chilli and rice and set them in front of us.

  ‘Are you joking? You’re always making light of my work.’ Suzy studied the bowl carefully before picking up a fork and eating the tiniest morsel, chewing about three hundred times before she swallowed.

  Mum and Dad, used to our banter, tucked into the food happily and ignored us.

  ‘You’ve got a patient called Dr Spork.’ I forced myself to pick up the spoon and take a bite, but I wasn’t remotely interested in it. At this rate, I’d turn into a skeleton before the wedding, and I didn’t fancy being a dead bride.

  Dad nearly choked on his chilli from laughing. Mum glanced up and giggled.

  ‘I know, that’s what I thought,’ I said to them.

  ‘Are you mocking the mentally ill?’ Suzy glanced at us all with horror.

  ‘No, I don’t discriminate,’ I said. ‘I mock all sorts of people.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with you.’ Suzy poked her fork in my direction. ‘You can never be serious.’

  ‘And your trouble is you’re too serious. Life’s too short to be serious.’ And anyway, I could be serious when I wanted to be. I was seriously getting stressy thinking about Aleesha trying it on with Brad.

  Suzy let out a big huff. ‘I can’t talk about a patient, anyway, it’s confidential.’

  ‘Not even to your sister? I swear it won’t go any further.’

  She huffed again. ‘Why do you want to know about Cecil, anyway?’

  I put the spoon to my mouth again but couldn’t take a bite, so I set it back down and stared at the chilli as if it was a bowl of mouldy sprouts. Leaning my elbows on the island, I told her about Aleesha, the stalking, and the chocolate knickers fetish.

  ‘I’ve seen her in the paper,’ Mum said. ‘She’s that trashy slut who’s always showing off her arse.’

  ‘And more,’ Dad said, then glanced up at Mum’s raised eyebrow. ‘Not that I’ve looked.’

  ‘How could you not look? It’s in your face in all the papers. And she’s always having affairs with married men and trying to break up relationships.’ Mum’s nose wrinkled up with distaste.

  See, it wasn’t just me that thought Aleesha was a lady-garden-flashing home-wrecker! Maybe I was right to be worried, after all.

  ‘Dr Spork’s been improving very well under his treatment regime.’ Suzy dabbed at the corners of her mouth delicately with the napkin. ‘I don’t think he would do anything like that anymore.’

  ‘I bet they said that about Hannibal Lecter, and look what happened? He escaped and ate lots more people,’ I said.

  ‘That was a film!’ Suzy scoffed.

  I shrugged. ‘So, it could happen.’

  More huffing by Suzy. ‘I can only tell you what’s already a matter of public record, and you seem to know all that anyway. Dr Spork was diagnosed with a delusional disorder and erotomania.’

  ‘So, what is erotomania, exactly?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s basically a form of delusion, where the person believes someone, usually a higher person or celebrity, is in love with them. Sometimes erotomanics believe the person they’re fixated on is sending them secret signals to show their love.’

  ‘So, when I was about seven and I had a crush on Bagpuss, was that erotomania?’ I asked, slightly worried.

  Suzy pinched her lips. ‘You had a crush on Bagpuss?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Mum piped up. ‘Don’t you remember when Amber went through a stage of thinking she was a cat? She’d wear this ridiculous headband with pointy ears on the top and crawl around the house, purring. And she was totally obsessed with Bagpuss.’

  Suzy peered at me, eyes narrowed.

  Uh-oh, here we go. I knew that look. Suzy was about to analyze me. She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook and pen. She quickly scribbled something down and then glanced up at me as if waiting for me to go on.

  I decided I’d better not mention that I asked advice from my cat, Marmalade. Suzy would probably have me sectioned. Even though Marmalade did usually give good advice.

  Suzy’s eyes narrowed further, her pen poised above her pad, ready to take more notes. ‘So, you had a crush on a big, pink cat?’

  ‘Yes, I think we’ve just established that.’ I secretly thought that the only thing psychiatrists did all day was repeat what people said back to them, just so they’d know how stupid it sounded
. I already knew it sounded stupid, but in my defence, I was a kid. Didn’t you ever have a secret crush on something, or pretend you were an animal when you were little? No? Er…OK, moving swiftly on, then.

  ‘Do you want to talk about your crush on Bagpuss?’ Suzy asked with excitement, feeling the whiff of a perspective patient. ‘You could have underlying disorders from it. It could be the reason you have commitment issues now.’

  I gave her a ‘Get real’ look. ‘I don’t have commitment issues.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ She scribbled something down furiously on her pad. ‘You could’ve fooled me. I’ve had to listen to so much drama about your on-off relationship with Brad for God knows how long. First you wouldn’t commit to Romeo, and now you’ve had a hard time setting the date for your wedding to Brad.’

  ‘Well, it’s been complicated! I didn’t commit to Romeo because, even though I loved him, it wasn’t enough. I think subconsciously I knew I was always supposed to be with Brad. And, anyway, Brad left me straight after he proposed and disappeared for months. That would give anyone commitment issues!’

  ‘Yes, but honey, he was on an SAS job.’ Mum patted my hand. ‘He couldn’t tell you where he was.’

  I knew that now, but at the time he just upped and vanished with no word. What was I supposed to think? I was out of my mind with worry. I didn’t know whether he’d left me for someone else or he’d been killed. I’d gone through a living hell, imagining all the possible scenarios, and sunk into a dark depression. Apparently, it would’ve compromised his mission to contact me, but by the time he’d come back, I was so hurt and devastated that I couldn’t even speak to him, let alone see him. He’d left a scar on my heart that had taken a long time to heal. My whole world had crumbled without him in it, and I tried to block him out of my life for a long time. I tried to forget my feelings for him because I couldn’t go there again. I couldn’t put myself through the nightmare of not knowing whether I’d ever see him again. And it had worked, for a while. At least that’s what I convinced myself of. I’d started seeing Romeo. We were partners on the Special Operations Team at Hertfordshire Police for a long time before we became partners in the bedroom. He was a great guy, and he got me over the Brad saga. I’d loved Romeo, too, just not in the same way I loved Brad. Then when I got kicked off the police force, Brad had wasted no time in offering me a job with Hi-Tec, and he’d wasted no time in trying to get me back, either. I’d resisted for a long time, but the walls around my heart couldn’t keep Brad out forever. So, yeah, maybe I did have commitment issues, and maybe there was always that fear in the back of my mind that he’d leave me again. But going through bad times made you realize just how precarious life was. It brought home just how much you had to lose the second time around if it didn’t work out. Not that I would ever tell Suzy, though. She’d jump all over it and hound me forever to talk through my feelings.