Page 71 of Guilty Mothers
‘There was an overcharge or something. If I remember correctly, Katie had put on a couple of pounds between fittings. The dress needed alterations which cost money. Sheryl didn’t want to pay and accused him of not taking the correct measurements. Everyone knew he was right. She was hardly fat, but Katie had gained a little weight. Kelvin chose that hill to die on and wouldn’t back down. He demanded payment up front or no dress.’
‘What happened?’
‘She paid for the dress, got it, and then pulled her little group together and complained to the organisers.’
‘About pricing?’ Bryant asked, frowning.
Yeah, Kim was pretty sure the organisers wouldn’t have entered into such petty squabbles. It would have needed to be something bigger to get their attention.
‘As if Sheryl was going to fight fair,’ Jenna scoffed. ‘She told them he’d touched her child inappropriately. They took him to the side and warned him there would be a full investigation and that the police would be called.’
‘I’m sensing he was presented with another option?’ Bryant asked.
‘To step away from any events involving little girls and the matter would go no further.’
‘Did he do anything wrong?’ Bryant asked.
‘Not to my knowledge. It was a revenge attack that forced him out of the business.’
‘But other mums went along with it?’ Kim asked.
‘Of course. The best place to stand is behind a bully. That way they can’t set their sights on you.’
Kim appreciated the analogy but felt a wave of compassion for Kelvin Hobbs, even though he hadn’t been truthful with them.
They thanked Jenny for her time and saw themselves out.
Bryant sighed. ‘I’m starting to realise that pageant moms are not all that popular with—’ He stopped speaking as her phone rang.
‘Hey, Keats, the kids aren’t giving you too much trouble, are they?’ she asked of Penn and Tiff.
‘I’m not there,’ he said gravely.
Her stomach flipped. She needed no further explanation.
‘Okay, wherever you are, we’re on our way.’
FORTY-FIVE
Bryant pulled into the car park of The Tenth Lock pub, which gave direct access to the stretch of canal at the bottom lock of a flight from Merry Hill to Stourbridge.
Kim stepped onto the towpath and assessed the scene quickly. To her left were a bunch of uniforms and Keats. Another sharp shower had accompanied them all the way from Dudley, and one of the two constables to her right had a small sausage dog tucked into his high-vis jacket.
Without speaking, Kim turned left and Bryant turned right towards the cyclist standing next to the two police officers.
Keats saw her approach and waved with a half-smile. Knowing that couldn’t be for her, Kim turned to find Mitch right behind her.
‘You know, one of these days you’re gonna have to let me in on your secret,’ she said.
‘I just argue with him less,’ Mitch replied, falling into step beside her.
‘Ah, I’m stuffed then,’ she said as they reached him.
‘Sally-Ann Davis,’ Keats told them. ‘Fifty years of age and walks her dog here every morning.’
Keats stepped aside to reveal the body of a petite woman with short brown hair. She wore jeans, trainers and a short raincoat over a sweatshirt.
The first thing that struck Kim was the absence of knife wounds.