The Oakhurst Murders Duology

6-1

6

Barefoot, his soiled trainers in a carrier bag found in the boot of Mitchell’s car, Zack followed the two police officers up the stairs and into the police station.

He felt eyes on him and looking around he found himself an object of interest for those villagers who were out and about. Based on the suspicion and anger in the looks, he could only conclude that news of his discovery had already made it around the village, and that he was being fitted for the role of murderer in the eyes of the villagers. He supposed he couldn’t blame them, a village wasn’t like a town or city, where it was rare for a person to know more than two or three of their neighbours; in Oakhurst, everyone was likely to be related to, or at least know, everyone else. The only person for whom that wasn’t true was him, which meant if anyone was going to be suspected of a brutal crime, it was him.

The anger and suspicion of his fellow residents disappeared from Zack’s mind the moment he entered the police station. His feet were knocked out from under him by an elderly woman who was energetically mopping the reception area.

“Sorry,” she apologised unconvincingly.

“That’s alright,” Zack dismissed the apology, while thinking that perhaps he had been wrong, and angry looks were not all he could expect. He got quickly to his feet and bent to retrieve the carrier bag holding his trainers.

“Are you alright, Mr Wild?” Melissa asked, coming back to help him, though he was already back on his feet by the time she reached him.

“It’s through here, Mr Wild,” Mitchell said before the author could answer his colleague’s question. He made no effort to conceal his dislike of the friendly air that seemed to be developing between Melissa and Zack Wild.

“Thank you, sergeant,” Zack said, ignoring the obvious lack of concern over his tumble. “I’m fine,” he said to Melissa. “It’s nothing paying more attention to my surroundings won’t help.”

With an unpleasant wet feeling on his feet, Zack followed Sergeant Mitchell through to the station’s sole interview room, which didn’t look big enough for the four people it was supposed to accommodate.

“We’ll begin the interview just as soon as I’ve taken care of a few things, Mr Wild,” Mitchell said before disappearing from the doorway without giving his interviewee a chance to say anything.

“Can I get you a drink?” Melissa asked. Unlike Mitchell, she hadn’t taken an instant dislike to Zack Wild – if anything, she had taken an instant liking to him, in part, mostly, because he was attractive.

Zack nodded. “Thanks, my water bottle’s just about out.”

“Tea, coffee?”

“Coffee, white, no sugar.”

“Be right back.”

**