Heartlands

by Kerry Watts

  ‘Hey, boss.’ He tugged at the seat belt of her Ford Fiesta. ‘Inverlochty, eh? I don’t think I’ve been up there in ten years.’

  Jessie grinned. ‘It probably hasn’t changed much. Do you remember the wee caravan park just outside there?’

  Dylan’s face lit up. ‘Do I remember it? I loved that place as a lad. My granny and grandad had a caravan there. I used to go there every summer and October holiday. Grandad took me fishing. Aye, good times, they were.’

  Jessie laughed at his enthusiasm. Why couldn’t all men be as lovely and sweet as Dylan Logan? Shelly Logan was a lucky woman to have such a great husband.

  ‘Whoa!’ Jessie slammed on her brakes to allow the driver of the oncoming Ford Escort, who appeared out of the darkness, to get past on the wrong side of the road.

  ‘I’ll call in the reg to Traffic.’ Dylan grabbed his phone as Jessie exhaled sharply.

  ‘Bloody A9!’ she exclaimed. ‘My damn heart’s pounding now.’

  That was exactly the reason Jessie hated this road at night. The long stretch of single carriageway comes quickly after a short patch of dual, leading drivers to lose concentration and overtake when they shouldn’t. A dark autumn night doesn’t make the situation any better.

  ‘They’re going to look out for them when they hit Perth,’ Dylan told her. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Aye, I will be, but it’s just taken twenty years off me.’

  ‘Aye, and you’re no spring chicken as it is.’ Dylan boomed with laughter.

  ‘Very funny. You’re a funny guy.’ Jessie mimicked his laughter, indicated and slowed before turning into the outskirts of Inverlochty, past the caravan park on the left. ‘It’s still there, then.’ She chuckled.

  Ben Lochty loomed large on the horizon as they turned onto the main street of the small Highland Perthshire town.

  ‘That is quite something, isn’t it?’ Dylan pointed up at the moon shining down close to the summit.

  ‘If you like that kind of thing,’ Jessie answered, and nodded towards the police car parked outside the address she was given. ‘Come on, we’re here.’

  PC Molly Wilde, community police officer, greeted them at the door.

  ‘Ma’am.’ She nodded to Jessie, then shot a glance in Dylan’s direction and blushed. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

  Molly pulled the door shut behind her.

  ‘What’s the story there?’ Jessie narrowed her eyes at Dylan.

  Dylan raised his hands in the air and shrugged. ‘No idea.’

  All of Jessie’s senses were heightened. Her skin bristled. Even the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The first interaction with the parents was so important.

  Chapter Ten

  1996

  Dr Julia Hudson pushed her large yellow glasses over her nose while she waited in her office. They were Jasper Conran this time; a little treat to herself, she thought. She smiled when the door opened behind her.

  ‘Hello, Daniel, how are you today?’

  Daniel walked straight to the consulting room window. ‘I’m fine, thanks. How are you, Dr Hudson?’ he asked, without breaking eye contact.

  ‘I’m great, thank you for asking.’

  Julia observed the growth in his physique since her last visit. He was obviously enjoying the recreational sports therapy she’d prescribed. His height had even increased by at least an inch, probably due to the decent nutrition he now had access to.

  ‘Come and join me, will you? So we can talk.’

  Daniel remained silent, his gaze fixed on the open fields on the horizon as far as the eye could see. Daniel Simpson’s stare had unnerved Julia when they first met. He seemed to stare without blinking for long periods.

  ‘When will I be able to go outside again?’

  Julia considered her answer carefully. The boys in Carseview needed positive behaviour modification, but they also needed honesty.

  ‘Not for a while yet, Daniel.’

  ‘When, then?’ His question betrayed the frustration he was feeling.

  ‘Not yet,’ she repeated gently.

  Daniel cracked his knuckles loudly, then leaned right back in his chair.

  ‘Cam Walsh tells me she gave you some bad news about your mother. How did that make you feel?’

  Daniel smiled and scratched his closely cropped hair.

  ‘She says you don’t want to go to her funeral. Is that right?’

  When Daniel didn’t respond, Julia didn’t push the point. Instead she changed the subject.

  ‘I hear you enjoy spending time in the gym.’

  Daniel nodded with enthusiasm. ‘It’s got some great equipment. Look at these bad boys.’

  He lifted his arms to flex his growing biceps.

  ‘I’m glad you like it.’ Julia shuffled papers on the table and pushed a form across at him. ‘There’s an opening in the library coming up, and I thought of you. If you fancy it then fill this in and I’ll sort it out for you.’

  Daniel was a bright boy. Julia wanted to keep him occupied.

  ‘OK.’ He stuffed the form in his pocket. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  A brief pause was punctuated by Daniel’s unexpected question: ‘Does Jack ever ask about me?’

  ‘You know I can’t discuss Jack with you.’

  Daniel sighed. ‘I know, I was just curious about whether he talks about me…’ He hesitated. ‘About what we did.’

  ‘Do you miss Jack?’

  Daniel immediately scoffed. ‘Fuck off, I wasn’t his boyfriend.’

  ‘There are many kinds of love in relationships. Caring for a best friend is perfectly natural. You and Jack shared an extremely personal, intense experience. I’m not surprised you think about him.’

  Daniel frowned. ‘I’m not thinking about him. I just wondered, that’s all.’

  ‘Do you ever think about Sophie?’

  Daniel’s eyes darted left then right as he sniffed, and he shook his head. He apparently didn’t dare say what he thought.

  ‘No,’ he whispered.

  ‘Would you like to talk about Sophie?’

  Daniel closed his eyes and shook his head.

  ‘OK then, we won’t. Not yet, but when you’re ready, let me know.’

  Daniel’s eyes remained closed. ‘How’s Tom?’

  Julia inhaled a deep breath. ‘I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not going to say he forgives you, if that’s what you’re looking for. Losing his little sister has broken his heart.’

  She didn’t have to wait long for his response. His aggressive outburst wasn’t a surprise. It was more of a disappointment. The complex nature of Daniel’s personality meant that there would be many more setbacks to come.

  Julia looked on from the small window in the dining room door. The two officers had a job on their hands bringing him under control. Daniel’s mix of anger and grief was a recipe that created in him the strength of a bull and the speed of a cheetah. There was good reason that the dining room furniture was bolted to the floor. There was nothing loose for him to throw. The most damage Daniel could do was to himself. His knuckles bled from hammering into the wall again and again until he was subdued, after much struggling. Today was not the right time to tell him that Jack MacKay was found hanged in his room three days ago.

  Blair Crawford couldn’t believe how nervous this interview made him feel. It had been good of PC Duncan to give them his card, if somewhat surprising. The fact was, Laura Nicoll’s late-night phone call brought Blair to Sophie Nicoll’s home. Blair listened to the footsteps on the wooden floor as they moved towards the front door.

  ‘Mum, that reporter is here,’ Tom Nicoll shouted before Blair had a chance to introduce himself. His offer of a handshake was ignored as Tom brushed past him dressed in his school uniform. ‘She says go through.’

  Blair nodded and closed the front door behind him. He spotted the vast array of family photos immediately. The hall table was filled with photos of Tom and Sophie at various stages. They looked like such normal kids. Missing te
eth. Dreadful haircuts. The same as everybody else. But their little family was different. One member was missing. Stolen from them in the most brutal way.

  The wall that followed the staircase was adorned with the more professional family portraits. They were a beautiful-looking family, Blair thought. Sophie had inherited her honey-blonde hair from her mother, who was more like her sister than a mother. A lump stuck in Blair’s throat at the sight of her smiling face staring back at him.

  ‘Mr Crawford, please come through.’ Laura Nicoll smiled a greeting.

  ‘Call me Blair, please.’ He reached out his hand to shake hers. ‘Tom’s back at school, I noticed. How is he?’

  How is he? What a ridiculous question, Blair chastised himself. His sister was murdered, you idiot.

  ‘He’s OK,’ Laura shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t know, to be honest. He doesn’t say much.’ She opened the kitchen door. ‘We’ll talk in here. Come on through.’

  More photos, Blair noticed. Pictures and certificates adorned every surface.

  ‘You have a lovely home, Laura.’

  ‘Thank you. Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ she asked. ‘I think there’s bit of sponge left over, too.’

  Blair didn’t think he could ever be as brave as the woman in front of him.

  ‘I would love a cup of tea.’ He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a notebook and pen. ‘I hope you don’t mind if I take a few notes.’

  ‘Of course, no problem.’ She laid a coaster in front of him. ‘There you go. Help yourself to milk and sugar.’

  Blair added two heaped spoonfuls of sugar and a splash of milk to his mug.

  ‘I’m very grateful you’ve allowed me to meet with you like this.’

  Laura smiled and sipped her tea. ‘I need to do this. I want people to know the real story. The real Sophie was an amazing, witty, kind, generous—’ Laura’s words fizzled into tears. ‘Sorry.’ She sniffed. ‘I miss her so much.’

  ‘I understand it must be so hard for you all.’

  Laura exhaled slowly. ‘OK, where do you want me to start?’

  ‘Tell me about her. What did Sophie like to do? What made her smile?’ Blair clicked his pen on.

  Laura grinned at the memory that popped into her head. ‘Horses. Sophie loved horses. Like a lot of teenage girls, I suppose, but it wasn’t the cute ponies she was fascinated by.’

  ‘No? What, then?’

  ‘Racehorses. Sophie loved horse racing, just like her dad. Ray has a share in one, or a leg, I should say. Stupid term. Sophie loved going to meetings with him. His horse was no Grand National contender, don’t get me wrong. More of an always the bridesmaid, never the bride type.’

  Blair laughed a little at her analogy. ‘My dad loved the horses too.’

  ‘He and Sophie would have got on then.’

  ‘Perhaps. Dad was more a gambler, though.’ Blair sank the last of his tea.

  ‘Can I get you a refill? I’m having a fresh one.’

  He clicked his pen off again. ‘That would be lovely, thanks.’

  ‘I’ll cut the sponge this time, too.’ Laura smiled.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘I’ll make us some tea.’

  ‘Tea, Jason! Nobody wants bloody tea.’

  Dylan shot Jessie a glance.

  ‘Hey.’ Jessie moved forward. ‘Come on, Louise, let’s have a wee seat and you can tell me what’s happened. Jason, Dylan can help you get a brew on.’ She nodded at Dylan to follow Jason into the kitchen.

  Louise paced to and from the window to peer out through the blinds. ‘Where the hell is she?’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s not like her to be out this late.’

  Jessie scanned the living room. The pine sideboard was adorned with photos of Shannon as well as a selection of candles and ornaments. The tall bookcase in the corner was filled with a variety of fiction, mainly crime, and a few biographies. The place was clean; a little untidy at worst. A chair in the far corner was hidden by a large pile of clean washing, which made Jessie smile. Everybody had such a chair, it seemed. Although Jessie’s was in her bedroom and not the living room. A family photo of the three of them sat next to a single school photo of an older boy, which Jessie thought strange. Why wasn’t he in the family shot?

  Jessie joined Louise at the window.

  ‘When did you last see your daughter, Louise? It’s OK to call you Louise, isn’t it?’

  Louise nodded. ‘Of course. Um, this morning when she left for school. I asked her if she had enough money for lunch.’ She put her hands over her face. ‘Oh God, where is she?’

  ‘OK, OK, let’s sit down and you can tell me a bit more.’ Jessie guided Louise towards the sofa.

  Louise sighed and flopped down as Jessie perched on the edge of the sofa, pulling her notebook from her jacket pocket. She glanced down at her ringing phone and pressed End Call with a frown.

  ‘OK. Louise, have you any idea where Shannon might have gone? Who are her friends?’

  Louise shot straight back up. ‘You don’t think I’ve done that already? I’ve called Eric. He says she was supposed to meet him for a thick shake but she didn’t turn up. He thought she’d changed her mind and come home.’

  ‘Now, I know this is hard, but I need you to calm down.’

  ‘Here we go,’ Dylan nudged his shoulder against the door as he carried mugs of tea in on a tray.

  ‘Thank you,’ Louise whispered as she took a mug from him.

  Jason stood back from the rest of them. Jessie thought that strange.

  ‘Jason, when did you last see Shannon?’ she asked.

  ‘I was up and out early, so it would have been last night, I suppose. When I said goodnight to her. I start at six, so I was in bed by ten last night. Shannon was still up. She was on her laptop when I popped my head in.’

  ‘Could we possibly have a look at Shannon’s room?’ She put her mug down.

  ‘What? Yes, of course.’ Louise told her. ‘It’s the last door after the top of the stairs. It’s got a huge picture of a horse on the door.’

  Jessie stood up. Dylan took one last sip and followed her out. She turned left at the top of the stairs and peered in at the open door of what must have been Louise and Jason’s room. Again, it looked untidy but clean. A bit like herself these days, she thought. The door between that room and Shannon’s had a hole in it; about shoulder height to Jessie. It wasn’t quite right through the wood but close as damn it. The only thing that causes a dent of that depth and shape was a punch – and a hard punch at that. The kind of punch only a man can produce. An angry man.

  She turned away from that door to Shannon’s. She stole a glance at Dylan before pushing it open. The contrast was immediately obvious. The bed was immaculately made. The dresser was organised with various sprays and brushes. Her make-up bag was closed and tucked back against her jewellery box. Her bedside table held a radio alarm clock and an empty glass next to a notebook, which appeared to be used as a diary with the pen neatly tucked into the wire spine. A laptop sat on her desk next to the window, which offered stunning views across town towards Ben Lochty. Jessie pulled on a pair of gloves, then lifted the laptop and dropped it into an evidence bag. Dylan tugged at his gloves in an attempt to make them more comfortable.

  ‘They make these things so damn small,’ he moaned as he lifted the notebook and scanned the pages.

  ‘Dylan, the gloves are normal-sized. You’re just a giant.’

  Dylan laughed sarcastically. ‘Very good. I’m only six foot one. Look at David Lyndhurst. How the hell does he manage? He must go to Monsters ‘R’ Us for his supplies.’ Forensic pathologist David Lyndhurst was a man mountain at six foot six.

  ‘I’ll tell him you said that, shall I?’

  Dylan tucked Shannon’s notebook diary into another evidence bag, pulled back the duvet and lifted the pillow.

  ‘If she was hiding under there I think we would have found her by now,’ Ben murmured from the doorway.

  Jessie spun round to see his sombre expression. ‘Hello. I�
��m DI Blake and this is DC Logan. And you are?’

  ‘I’m Ben, Shannon is my niece. Louise is my big sister.’

  ‘You live here with your sister and her family?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Ben muttered.

  Jessie narrowed her eyes at him. ‘That’s a right mess you made in your door there.’

  The fact that he merely blushed and walked away answered her question. Perhaps this picture of contented family life wasn’t quite all it seemed.

  ‘We’re going to take her laptop and this notebook. I hope that’s OK,’ Jessie said once they were all back in the living room. Then she noticed Jason wasn’t there. ‘Where’s Jason?’

  ‘He’s gone outside for a smoke.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Dylan muttered, then made his way out of the back door.

  ‘Does Shannon use social media, you know, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram? Could she have arranged to meet someone from one of those sites?’

  ‘Of course not! My daughter isn’t stupid, detective. Could you just get out there and find her!’ Louise shouted, right in Jessie’s face. Then she started sobbing; that awful, uncontrolled sobbing.

  Jessie felt terrible for her. She really did. Her pain looked real. It looked raw. But she knew very well that sometimes things aren’t quite as they first appear.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jason offered Dylan a cigarette. Dylan took one. He hadn’t smoked since his son Jack was born six months ago. For some reason it seemed like a good idea tonight. Their garden was very dark, Dylan noticed, what with the house being at the end of the road. The streetlights didn’t quite light up this end.

  ‘Have you spoken to Ben?’ Jason asked between draws. ‘He says he saw Shannon going into Andrew Foster’s.’

  Dylan frowned. This was news to him. He shook his head, then pulled his notebook from his pocket. ‘Andrew Foster. What’s the address?’

  Dylan waved to Jessie to join him outside in the hall.

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ Jessie patted Louise’s shoulder before she exited the room. ‘What’s up?’