I left the property and found the lady by the side of the road at the bottom of the drive. She got in the passenger side of the car. "Where's Burt?" I asked looking into the trees.

"He will meet us at home." I could see that was all I was getting and directed the old car towards her house.

She looked around the interior of the car and shook her head at it. Is she unimpressed by this old thing? I don't blame her.

Following the road away from Edith's House, the turning for the next house was at least a mile up the road that ran out of the small town. I turned up the road and to my surprise, it was smooth and freshly tarmacked. This road twisted and turned through the forest for longer than I thought it should have. Finally, the house came into view. It wasn't anything special to look at.

It wasn't a massive house for someone with enough money to buy that much land. It was a very standard holiday-type house with one bedroom on the first floor which was common in this area. The place didn't look like it had been rebuilt or even refurbished. It was a carbon copy of Edith's house except Edith's place looked like it had been worked on recently.

I stopped near the older model Volvo that was there. I saw Burt come running to the passenger side and jump up at the lady as she stepped out. She hugged him until he got down. I got out of the car as Burt danced around her.

She walked towards the door to her home. I followed her inside and was struck by the amount of books. Nearly every wall had bookcases that were overflowing with books. I could see books stacked neatly with other books stacked haphazardly in front of them. Except one.

A small nondescript bookshelf stood in the corner that didn't have books piled up in front of the neatly stacked ones. It was neat. The room looked like she had run out of space to put the bookshelf but kept buying books.

The one neat bookshelf seemed populated with one author's books. She was drawing attention to it by not stacking the books that sat on the floor next to one of the two armchairs on those shelves. The shelves that had the books stacked in front of others were all made with the same wood but that one small bookshelf was painted white.

"You have a lot of books."

She turned to me and then looked at the shelves except the neat little one. Odd why would she miss that shelf with her eyes? "I like reading."

She walked into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Burt. He watched me from an armchair, which was his from the blanket and fur all over it.

I looked over the books on the shelves closest to me. An odd mix of horror and philosophy books. Another bookshelf held psychology and fantasy books. Why would you stack these genres together?

There were no ornaments on any of the surfaces. Only books. I walked around the small living room. There was nothing to tell me what this person liked. No photographs, or paintings. No items of value at all. Just books and a clock on the wall above a small wooden table with two chairs tucked under it. Next to Burt's chair was a small plastic crate that had Burt's toys in it.

All in all the place seemed soulless. It was as if she was deliberately making the place as blank as she could and If Janna had told me she had only just moved in I would have believed it. I wonder if upstairs is the same. I stopped in front of the small bookshelf that was neat. This was the only hint as to what she liked or had an interest in.

I jumped slightly at a voice behind me. "Tea?"

I turned to see the lady behind me with a steaming cup. When did she get there? "Ahh thank you."

She went to the other armchair next to Burt's chair. She tucked her feet up beneath her as she sat down. Surely that's not comfortable?

I sat on a wooden chair at the table up against the only wall without bookshelves pulling out my notebook.

"What do you need?" She asked in that ever-present flat tone.

It was odd having her offer information when she seemed so reluctant to engage. "We don't have your name for our records, maybe start there."

She chuckled, smiling into her cup. Why would she laugh over a name? "My name is Tia Frost. What's yours?" Her flat tone had warmed slightly.

"I'm Maverick Wilkie." I took out a business card laying it on the table. "I'll leave you a card in case you want to contact me or make a complaint."

She frowned at that, one of only three expressions I'd seen on her face so far. "Why would I complain?"

"In case I offend you accidentally." She nodded. We both sat there for a few awkward moments in complete silence. She sipped her tea and watched me never quite meeting my eyes. I took a sip of my tea and cleared my throat. "Would you like to start from the beginning?"

The strange lady nodded but continued to stare silently at me for several minutes. Oddly Burt sat up watching her.

"Edith moved in and our first encounter was when she tried to move the back fence of her garden. I tried to explain to her that I would sell her the extra land if she waited until spring."

I looked up from my notes. She was looking at Burt and moved to open her bag, that she had sat next to the pile of books next to her chair. "That's a little odd. Why spring?"

She didn't find what she was looking for in the top pocket of her bag and sighed. "There was a hedgehog that lived right where she wanted to put her fence. She got upset with me yelling and screaming when Burt growled at her. I walked away and when I came back a day later there was a post through the hedgehog's hide. I told her this and she said filthy creatures need to keep away from people. I'm currently taking her to court over the moved fence. I can't save the dead hedgehog with that, but I can teach her that you can't bully people. Now I have a new thing to add to my case. That was what I was doing in that building."

I stopped writing and looked up at her. She was staring into her tea and Burt was looking at her with what almost looked like concern on his face. "I understand why you would want to teach her a lesson. How many more confrontations did you have?"

She wiped her face and I struggled to hide my shock at the tears. She's crying over a hedgehog?

"Many. She does things to irritate me, which didn't. She kills animals and leaves them on the bonnet of my car. That is just sad, I wondered if it was her. I wasn't sure until she outright said it to me. Why would you kill a defenceless animal just to put it on my car?" She shook her head.

"What did she say?" I asked softly.

The lady unravelled herself from the chair putting her cup aside. She went to a bookshelf and got a dictaphone out from behind a stack of books. "I was recording some notes on something I'm working on whilst gardening. She came over screaming and shouting at me so I have it recorded."

She also pulled out a folder from a small magazine rack under the table beside her chair, bringing both to me. I opened the folder, it was everything she had told me and more written in a neat hand. Dates and times next to what happened, including a transcript of the recording.

"Having her recorded may not help but this will." I gestured to the folder.

"She knew she was being recorded. I told her." She pointed to the section of the transcript.

It said.

Edith; "I don't care if you're recording me! You will give me what I want or I will be back with a crow this time."

Me; "A Crow?"

Edith; "Last time I left a shrew on your car. That's another thing..."

I looked up at her, she had moved back and sat down while I'd been reading the altercation between them. I was a little shocked at how she was able to move about silently. I thought I'd just not heard her before, but now I was paying attention I knew for certain. "Why didn't you contact us about this before?"

She shrugged. "I know that until you have evidence, your hands are tied."

"You've had these problems before?" She shook her head. "Then how do you know the limits of my authority?"

She sighed. "I have a wide range of interests."

That was a vague answer but I'll let it pass for now. "Is there anything more that's not in here?" I patted the folder.

"The stuff I can't prove and you can't do anything about. Things like throwing stuff at the house from the woods, setting my car alarm off, and leaving nasty things on my doorstep. Those are things I couldn't prove but I personally think it is her."

I nodded writing that down too. "If you can keep a record of that we can add it to a harassment file same goes for other things that have happened."

"I will." She put her cup down and stared at me.

"I think that's everything unless you have anything more to add?" She shook her head still staring at my chest. "Then I will leave you to get on with your day."

Standing I said. "If you think of anything or would like to press harassment charges, just give us a call."

She followed me out to the porch. "I don't think she will be a problem for much longer." Her flat tone and lack of expression on her face made that sound sinister.

I nodded feeling unsure how to take that comment. It made my blood run cold at the complete lack of emotion.

I walked to old Betty and got in. Tia still stood on her porch and Burt had joined her there. I shook my head noting the last thing she had said in my notebook. The look on her face and her tone ran through my head as I wrote. There was something about the way she had looked off towards Edith's home it felt... deliberate.

I put the key in the ignition of old Betty and hoped the useless pile of rust would start. She coughed and spluttered but didn't start. "Why do you always do this?" I asked the useless car.

I tried again and still, she wouldn't start. I closed my eyes and counted to ten as sometimes this would work, but not this time. She made the unmistakable sound of a car trying to turn over, with a flat battery. "For fucks sake!" I muttered.

I opened my eyes and jumped as Tia stood next to my window. She stared at me waiting for me to do something. I opened the door a little so she could hear me. "Why are you there?" She held up a set of jump leads and I saw her Volvo had been turned around and the bonnet was up. "Oh."

The Volvo was quiet as it ran and now I had the door open I could hear it purring like a happy cat. That Volvo is older than old Betty and it's running a whole lot better than this pile of crap. I don't know a lot about cars but I know this thing should have been off the road a long time ago. She must look after that thing for it to run like that.

She stepped back as I swung the door open more. I bent and popped the bonnet release handle. As soon as I'd done that she opened the bonnet and had attached the leads to the battery. "Let it charge a minute then start it."

I watched her feeling very bemused. Now she seems warm with the car... what is with this woman? "Alright."

She pulled the dipstick and checked the oil then she ran her fingers over the HT leads. "What are you doing?" I tried to keep emotions out of my voice but on this occasion, I couldn't hide the worry in it.

"There has to be a reason your battery went flat while you were inside the house. You drove the two miles from Edith's house, add in the half-mile of driveway... so your battery should have been topped up. Plus when you were trying to turn her over, she sounded rough. Your oil is low, and if I pulled a spark plug I would guess it would be fouled."

"Please don't."

She chuckled shaking her head. Her laugh is unsettling with the flat tone she spoke with. "Wasn't planning on it, I don't work on other people's cars. This lady of the road needs some love which is why I'm helping you. Your battery has had it. You need to go straight to a parts shop to pick one up when you leave. I would also guess your piston rings are worn which is why you trail blue smoke."

"How could you..."

To my surprise, she turned from old Betty's engine wiping her hands on a rag that she pulled from her pocket, and smiled at me. That smile lit up her face. "I have a wide range of interests. You can start her now."

Feeling very off balance by all this I got back in old Betty. After only a little coughing and a cloud of black smoke out the back, it started. Tia was smiling at the engine bay. Why does she look so happy about the car starting? Lady of the road she called this piece of crap. I looked over at the Volvo. I guess one of those interests is older cars.