by Diane Saxon
As she nudged into the room, Harry moved to one side, out of Zak’s large shadow, to expose the woman beyond.
A woman Jenna instantly recognised. Could never forget. This wasn’t Emily. This was the woman she’d watched bleeding out on the floor of Emily’s house the day before. This was Fern.
Jenna raised her fingers to her lips as her mind struggled to comprehend what her eyes told her, but with no time to dwell on it, she pushed it to one side to deal with later.
Between her and the woman were Zak and Harry. Both at risk from the twelve-inch blade the woman dangled with casual disregard from thick, swollen fingers.
Her gaze clashed with Jenna’s and she sucked in a whistling breath. ‘Now, who the fuck is this one?’ She raised the knife to waist-height.
Her mind waded through the confusion as Jenna narrowed her eyes at the woman in front of her. Not Emily. She claimed Emily had killed her. So, who? Emily Fern Shenton.
As Jenna’s mind cleared, comprehension hit her in a wave of disbelief. She took a step deeper into the room. ‘Fern?’
Harry stiffened and Jenna stepped up behind her so she could peer over Harry’s shoulder.
With no reaction to the name, the woman continued to stare at her, her expression fixed and blank.
‘Fern?’ Jenna repeated, to be rewarded by a flash of irritation.
‘Fern’s dead. I killed her. She was a fucking paranoid bitch.’
‘No. You never killed her. You injured her.’
‘She’s dead.’
Jenna ran her gaze over the woman as she took another step closer to move alongside Harry. ‘She’s very much alive.’
Emily’s eyes darkened. ‘She’s fucking dead. I should know. I shoved the knife deep into her stomach myself.’ She touched her fingers to her own stomach, pain flitting across her face.
‘You only injured her, Emily. You never killed her.’
Emily’s breath wheezed in and out, a thin layer of sweat broke out over her waxen skin as Jenna took another step forward, her stab vest no reassurance in the face of the long, sharp blade.
‘Fern is fine. Do you think I can speak with her?’
The slow turn of Zak’s head as she came alongside him almost had her snorting out her breath as horror filled his face at the sudden revelation.
‘Fern? Can I speak with you?’ Jenna pressed.
The blade wavered in Emily’s loose grip and a pained gasp ripped from her lips.
‘Fern, are you there?’
‘God.’ The barely whispered words came from Harry as her own comprehension slipped into place.
Emily’s shoulders rolled in and her expression collapsed as she appeared to shrink in front of them.
Jenna tipped her head to one side and sent the other woman a gentle smile. ‘Hello, Fern. How are you doing?’
Emily gave a shake of her head, evil spiking through her eyes before a softness took over and a gentle, almost childlike, voice came from Emily’s mouth. ‘She stabbed me.’
‘I know.’
‘She couldn’t help herself.’
Instead of the confusion rippling through her, Jenna plastered sympathy on her face. ‘I’m sure she couldn’t.’
She raised her hand and grasped Zak’s elbow, squeezing her fingers hard against his bone to transmit the urgency of her silent request as she gave a tug to make him move backwards.
Suspicion wreathed over the woman’s face as she watched him make a move away from her and her gaze darted to Jenna’s hand. ‘Don’t touch him.’ Her lips pulled back from her teeth as the guttural snarl came from deep down.
Without taking her gaze from Emily, Jenna removed her hand from his arm and let it drop to her side as she raised her left hand in a gentle persuasiveness. ‘It’s okay. I’m not doing any harm, Emily. I’m just talking to Fern.’
‘Fern wants you to fuck off.’ Spittle gathered over Emily’s lips in a white froth as her gaze turned manic and her hold on the knife tightened as she extended her arm and flicked the blade upwards.
Jenna ignored Zak’s sharp intake of breath, her entire focus on the woman with the twelve-inch blade. She’d used one before, she was more than capable of using one again. Tempted to touch her stab vest, Jenna’s fingers twitched, but she kept her hands still, her gaze steady on Emily. ‘I think Fern can speak for herself, Emily.’ She kept her voice low but insistent while she delved inside to find the other woman.
Emily’s shoulders twitched as she placed her hand on the swell of her belly. Her eyelids fluttered over a gaze filled with inner turmoil.
‘Fern. Put the knife down.’
Her head wobbled in small jerks, her voice, when it came, was young and miserable. ‘Help her. Help Emily.’
The breath burned in Jenna’s chest as she held it in while Emily drew her arm in and swapped the knife from one hand to the other, turning the blade inwards to offer the hilt to Jenna. Wretched desperation wallowed in the gaze she kept on Jenna.
‘I’ll help her, Fern. Just hand over the knife and I’ll help.’
The hair plastered to the back of her neck with sweat gave an uncomfortable tickle as Jenna took one cautious step forward and extended her arm, her fingers reaching for the black handle of the knife. Committed, she took another step closer.
With a flash, Fern disappeared, and Emily’s expression turned from pitiful to vicious in less than a blink.
With a sudden insight of Emily’s intentions, Jenna’s heart hammered as she lunged forward, her fingers grabbed for the knife at the same time Emily tightened her grip. Emily’s knuckles turned white, as she plunged the knife into the depths of her own belly, all the way to the hilt. Her eyes stared into Jenna’s as the vitriol seeped away and a pathetic sadness took its place.
Emily’s lips cracked open. ‘It’s done.’ Scarlet against her white skin, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as her lips curved up into a pathetic smile and her gaze roamed over to Zak. ‘I’m sorry. Emily never meant any harm. She just loved you so much.’
As Emily dropped to her knees, Jenna grabbed her by the shoulders, grunting as she took the full weight of a twenty-stone woman to stop her toppling onto her front and pushing the knife further in. If it was even possible for the knife to go further in. ‘Shit!’
Ears ringing with the sound of sirens and her own tinnitus, Jenna flipped Emily onto her back, her breath singing through her teeth as the woman went all the way down.
‘Fucking hell.’ Harry’s face, bleached white with shock, appeared at Emily’s head as she stripped a pillowcase from a pillow and leaned over the body sprawled on the floor. She flung the pillowcase at Jenna and grabbed for another pillow, stripping that one too.
Jenna balled up the pillowcase and pressed the flesh where the hilt of the knife stood proud as blood spurted out in small fountains.
She kept the pressure on and jerked her head round. Zak stood frozen, his glazed stare rooted to the knife. ‘Zak, go downstairs and open the front door. Let police and paramedics in. Direct them straight here.’ Much as she appreciated they weren’t all made of the same stuff and not everyone could deal with a well of blood from a knife wound, she needed him, which meant he needed to shake himself out of the hypnotic state he’d slipped into. ‘Zak!’
His head reared back, and the glaze slipped from his eyes to leave horror in its place.
‘Go downstairs and let everyone in. Quick!’
The doorbell pealed and, as though the shackles had dropped from his wrists and ankles, Zak was free. He spun round and sprinted for the stairs.
Jenna turned back round as Harry’s fingers pressed down from the other side of the knife and linked with hers.
‘Shit, I hope they’re quick. I don’t even know if this is the right thing to do. Do we leave the knife in, or take it out?’
Jenna shook her head. ‘Leave it in. Definitely. We can do more damage if it’s pierced a vital organ and we remove it.’ She stared at the froth coming through the bright red blood. There was no doubt
Emily had pierced a vital organ this time. Most probably a lung, from the evidence bubbling from her mouth. Not as much blood as from around the knife. Jenna pressed down on the soaked pillowcase.
At the sound of voices, Jenna and Harry looked up as a paramedic stood above them. He dropped the medical equipment bags and snapped nitrile gloves on his hands.
She’d not even had time to yank on a pair of nitrile gloves, it had never been a thought. ‘Dammit.’ She looked up at Harry opposite her. ‘If she’s a drug addict, we’re stuffed.’
Harry’s lips twisted in a bitter grimace. She cruised her gaze over Emily’s arms. ‘No track marks.’ Her skin smooth and plump, devoid of all colour, not even the blue of her veins as they retracted into her body.
The paramedic hunkered down next to Jenna, his bottle-green personal protection overall gave a slight rustle as he leaned over Emily and drew in a breath before he addressed them. ‘Can you hold still just a minute longer?’ Placid eyes checked on them both as he reached into his bag and a second paramedic came through the open doorway. ‘Okay, let Lisa slide into place and then you both let go and stand back.’
Jenna blew out the air that had backed up in her lungs, aware from the ache in her chest she’d been holding on to it for longer than natural.
From the look of Harry, she had been too.
As they stepped back to let the paramedics do their job, Jenna raised her hands, ready to rub them against her face, before she froze and stared at the blood smeared over them. She took a deep breath and then dropped them to her side. ‘I’ll need to take a statement from you.’ She shot Harry a quick look as the other woman nodded her agreement. Jenna held out her hands. ‘We need to get cleaned up and back to the safe house with Zak.’ She circled her gaze around the room and found him hovering just inside the doorway. ‘I need a statement from you too. Better to do it sooner rather than later.’ Aware his safety was still her concern, even though the threat was disabled, Jenna jerked her head. ‘Zak, would you come closer.
Harry glanced down at Emily. ‘I can’t believe she stabbed herself. Jesus.’ She rubbed her nose against the back of her wrist. ‘That’s some scary shit.’ She gave a rapid blink as her eyes filled with tears.
The ice that had formed around Jenna’s heart in order for her to carry out the job cracked. Not for Emily, but for Harry, who she’d never seen tear up before this case.
Their gazes held and understanding flowed between them.
‘What in the blue blazes happened, Sergeant Morgan?’ Face a rusty red, DI Taylor blustered into the room, heavy breath puffing out as he leaned his shoulder against the door jamb. He whipped a folded white handkerchief from his pocket, flicked it open and swiped it over his sweaty forehead, his hand swishing it around to the back of his neck.
Where to start? Jenna glanced at Harry before she delayed for time. ‘You got here quickly, sir.’
‘I was on my way the moment I heard security had been breached. There will be an enquiry into that. Right now, though, I want to know how the hell she got into the house. Why wasn’t the alarm set?’
Jenna shrugged. ‘It wasn’t set when we walked in. Zak said SOCO had an issue with it when they left yesterday. He was on his way to the hospital to visit his wife. He told them to leave it until we got here, and he’d sort it.’
‘Then what?’
Harry let out a delicate cough to attract his attention. ‘We came up to the bedroom, sir, while DS Morgan checked out downstairs. Emily was there.’ She pointed. ‘Behind the bed, fucking big knife in hand.’
Eyes hard as steel, Taylor glared around. ‘And where was the subject at that point?’
Currently between the two of them, Zak raised his chin, his lips a thin line. ‘Right behind Harry.’ He pushed his hair back from his forehead with his fingers, the shock giving them a fine tremble. ‘I’m sorry. It was my fault. I should have backed the hell out of there, but I was furious that Emily was there, I had no idea she had a knife in her hand at that time and I bumped Harry further into the room.’ He touched Harry’s elbow in apology and spoke directly to her. ‘I wanted to reach out and strangle Emily. I might well have done.’ He turned his face back to Taylor. ‘It was only Harry grabbing my arm that stopped me as Emily circled around the bottom of the bed to come closer.’
His teeth chattered together as the shock set in and he raised his clawed hands. ‘I never gave it a thought. I wanted to just grab her and throw her out of my house. I wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled and ask her why. Why would you attack my wife? Why would you take my little boy away? And then I saw the fucking knife. It’s our knife.’ He tapped his chest with his fingertips. ‘From our kitchen. Who the fuck was she going to stab?’ He squeezed his eyes closed. ‘It was my fault, Inspector.’ His voice shook, ‘If I’d been more aware.’ His eyes popped open and he gave a grim smile. ‘I’m not a trained police officer and my actions put your officer in danger.’
DI Taylor raised his thick eyebrows and looked at Zak, Harry and Jenna. His gaze skimmed over each of them as he took in their stab vests. His chest expanded as he filled it with air. ‘Good to see you took the appropriate measures, DS Morgan, DC Darling. Make sure you note your protective equipment and that of the subject in your notes when you write them up.’ He sucked his top lip in to scrape his bottom teeth over it. ‘How is the suspect?’
Jenna dragged oxygen in through her nose as crimson filled her vision, pressing down on memories too fresh to dismiss nudged aside by the present. ‘In a right bloody mess. Stabbed herself in the upper stomach, I think she punctured her lung. I’m no expert, but she had frothy blood spilling out of her mouth. The paramedics are obviously doing their best.’
Taylor nodded. ‘Air ambulance are en route.’
Jenna paced away and stared out at a vista you couldn’t wish for. ‘Bloody hell.’ She watched the approach of the red air ambulance dipping through the gorge in a line headed straight for the bedroom window. ‘The neighbours must think they’re in the twilight zone.’
She spun on her heel to stare at Zak, Taylor and Harry, wondering if Zak would ever want to live there again. It wasn’t her business, that was up to them to decide with the help of counsellors. Whatever the future brought to this family was nothing to do with her, but she knew without doubt she’d stay in contact, the bond too strong to walk away from.
She curled her fingers into her palm, the dried blood crinkling over her skin.
As though he’d read her thoughts, Taylor pinned her with a look. ‘Get your hands washed. You have blood all over them.’
On the defensive, she held her hands high. ‘We didn’t have time to pull on PPE.’
‘You didn’t have time to blink, Sergeant.’ His mild tones soothed. ‘Well done. Now, clean yourself up.’
‘What about SOCO?’
‘SOCO have plenty of evidence they can collect from your shirt, Sergeant, but preservation of life comes first. Always. Now clean that blood from your skin in case there is any contagion within it. Both of you.’ He included Harry. ‘I assume all your hepatitis vaccines et cetera are up to date?’ At their nods, he tossed out a smile. ‘Clean up, strip off, go home. This day has been long enough for all of us. I expect your notes available tomorrow.’
Harry’s eyes widened. ‘But, Zak…’
‘Zak will be safe with me until another member of your team is available. I’ll take him back to his son. The threat is over, DC Darling.’
Jenna took in a deep breath. ‘And Emily?’
He cast the woman on the floor a lingering look. ‘We’ll have someone on guard duty, no worries. Go home. Both of you. Go home.’
46
Wednesday 14 July, 21:50 hrs
Jenna tipped her head back to stare up at the clear, star-sprinkled sky.
Her fingers closed around Adrian’s as she dragged in the first fresh taste of air for six weeks as the heatwave broke.
‘God, this is good.’
‘It is.’ The soft rumble of his voice c
ould do nothing but serve to soothe.
She raised her head and took a sip of ice-cold Prosecco.
A long day, deserving of not a celebration but a consolation.
Despite Taylor’s instructions, Jenna had returned to the station, changed her clothes and carried on. For her own sanity, she needed to write up her notes, almost as an exorcism. She had other matters to check on, leads to follow, answers to get.
Fliss squatted next to her chair and drank from her own slender glass of Prosecco as she placed a hand on her knee. ‘Have you heard anything more?’
Jenna wriggled until she was upright. ‘Imelda is conscious, although she has shown no signs yet of being able to walk. Physiotherapy will help, but it will be an upward struggle. She’s young, healthy and the child is still viable.’
‘Viable?’ Adrian squeezed her fingers. ‘Does that mean undamaged?’
‘Not necessarily. It’s alive and that’s all we can hope for until it’s born. They made the decision to allow the pregnancy to continue without inducing labour or carrying out a caesarean. They’ll have to monitor her closely, but all indications are that the baby will be okay.’
Fliss pushed to her feet as Domino padded over to rest his head against Jenna’s thigh as though he sensed the depth of her sadness for the Cheetham-Epstein family. They were safe from any further attacks, but they had a long road of recovery ahead of them. A lovely family, with no reason for bad to happen to them. That was the kind of fucked-up world they lived in.
Jenna ran her hand over the satin-coated head of the Dalmatian and smiled as Mason whipped a slice of steak, a sausage and a breast of chicken off the barbecue, dumped it on a plate and handed it to Fliss.
Her sister spooned a pile of salad onto the plate, threw a thick slab of garlic bread alongside and placed it on the table in front of Jenna.
The special treatment didn’t go unnoticed, nor unappreciated. The norm would be for them all to help themselves, but she wasn’t sure if her legs were any more than overcooked spaghetti.