Читать книгу Dead Inside - Noelle Holten - Страница 23

Kate Moloney wasn’t your average doctor. In fact, she couldn’t be described as average in any way. Her goth appearance really did throw people when she introduced herself as a doctor. She was proud of her PhD in criminal psychology and didn’t care that people questioned her credentials based on how she looked. Pettiness or jealousy could rear its ugly head; it didn’t bother her.

She looked in the mirror. Her long, shiny, straight black hair glistened as the sun reflected through the window. Pools of blue, her eyes were hidden beneath a dark, grey shadow. Her silver nose ring and deep purple lips made a statement that she wasn’t to be messed with. She straightened her perfectly fitted black blazer, wiped down her pencil skirt and slipped on her most comfortable combat boots.

Dr Moloney had moved from her hometown in Galway, Ireland, to London so she could finish her studies. There wasn’t much need for a criminal psychologist where she lived and the jobs in Dublin were scarce. She’d made London her home away from home and managed to blend in nicely. But the move to the small market town of Markston, Staffordshire, was a welcome change to the hustle and bustle of life in the Big Smoke.

Even if it wasn’t considered as glamourous as some of the larger neighbouring townships, Dr Moloney knew she’d settle in quickly. It was the type of place where everyone knew each other, and new faces were often made to feel unwelcome. If she let it bother her, she wouldn’t last very long. Dr Moloney wouldn’t let it get under her skin.

Dr Moloney had also learnt that the neighbouring boroughs were managed by both Markston Probation and the local police station. When she’d googled the area, she hadn’t been surprised that this caused controversy with offenders who had to travel some distance to reach their appointments on time.

Substance misuse was a growing concern in Staffordshire. Kate also noted from her research that six pubs were located throughout the town, the most popular of which were The Black Penny and The Smith’s Forge, thanks to low prices and seemingly ‘friendly’ patronage. Many of the offenders who frequented the probation office were often found in The Smith’s Forge next to the train station and bus depot.

Kate was happy that, although the town had a retail park with various shops – Asda, Sainsbury’s, Boots – if you took a twenty-minute walk, you’d find yourself in a very rural area surrounded by fields and lakes. Yes, she’d settle here just fine.