Perfect Little Lies (DS Nick Bailey & DC Zoe Hall Thriller Series Book 1)

by S A Tameez

  He could do very little in his life while with her. She screamed for his undivided attention, and he had every desire to give to it to her. He both wanted and needed to be around her. They were either in a state of deep love or deep hate – there was no in-between. No middle ground. No compromise. They both lost their friends, lost touch with the world around them. Lost everything except each other.

  It wasn’t healthy, Patrick told him on a few occasions, and it wouldn’t end well. He was right.

  Nick’s mobile phone buzzed. He lit up in delight as he saw the display.

  Dad calling…

  “Dad, hi.”

  “Hi Nick, how are you?”

  “I’m great. You? And mum?”

  “We’re both fine, son. It’s been a while since you called, your mother has been badgering me to call you. I told her you’re probably busy with work and stuff and not to bother you but,” his voice then lowered, “you know what she’s like!”

  “I heard that!” His mother’s voice emerged in the background.

  “Oops,” Nick chuckled.

  “I’m putting the phone on loudspeaker – you got a minute?”

  “Of course.”

  “Hi Nick,” his mother shouted.

  “You don’t need to shout, Irene,” his father said, “The microphone will pick your voice up without you yelling into my ear!”

  “I’m not shouting!” she yelled again, “Anyway, Nick, how is everything? Work? Life?”

  “Yeah, things are good, thanks.”

  “How is Katie?” his father said. Nick’s stomach sunk. He could hear his mother whispering.

  “It’s Stacey, you moron!”

  “Sorry, I meant Stacey… How is Stacey?”

  “She’s fine, thanks.”

  “When’s the due day?” her mother asked. He could picture the look she would be giving his father for mixing up the names. He wasn’t sure whether confiding in them with what happened was a good idea, but he had no one else to turn to. His mother and father were the pillars that held his world up. Without them, he may never have got over the ordeal.

  “Any day now,” Nick said, feeling the nerves as he said the words out aloud.

  “That’s brilliant, son,” his father said, “Your mother and I are so happy for you.”

  “We are indeed,” his mother said, “Now, we were planning to go away in a couple of weeks. Nowhere special – just France for a few days but we wanted to visit you before we went. Is that OK?”

  “Of course, I would love to see you!” Nick said with genuine excitement.

  “Great. We were thinking about the weekend?”

  “Sounds good to me,” he replied, “I will get the guestroom ready.”

  “Don’t go through too much trouble,” his mother said, “We shan’t be in your hair long.”

  “Don’t be silly. Please, stay as long as you like. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

  “We are too, son,” his father said, “See you Friday evening. Bye.”

  “They sound nice,” Zoe said, standing in the doorway.

  “Were you eavesdropping?” Nick said as he gestured for her to come in and sit down.

  “Yes. But not intentionally.”

  “Serves me right for telling you that I spoke to your mother about you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Zoe said, “and I think I, as usual, overreacted. My mother, as difficult as she can be, is only looking out for me. And I guess you were trying to do the same thing – so, let’s move on.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Nick said, “So, how’d it go with Felicity Marshal?”

  “Good, I think. She’s been lying about her identity and about having a super-rich father. She is in debt but did it all to try fit in and be someone else. To make friends, from what I can tell.”

  “Interesting,” Nick said and leaned back in his chair, “Did she have any new information about Sarah Fowler?”

  “Not really. I don’t think she knows anything about Sarah’s murder,”

  “How can we be sure? She has lied about other things – actually, she’s a pathological liar. How do we know she isn’t lying now?”

  “We don’t. Not for sure. She is a liar, but I don’t think she’s lying about Sarah Fowler. She orchestrated her lies to help her make friends – she wouldn’t have killed her best friend.”

  “What if she had got obsessed? What if Sarah Fowler found out about her lies – told her she didn’t want anything to do with her? If she were willing to go through so much trouble to change who she was, how far would she go to keep her secret?”

  “Good question,” Zoe said, “But I still think we’re looking in the wrong places.”

  “I see the comprehensive list of suspects you’ve put up on the board.” Nick pointed.

  “Comprehensive but not conclusive.”

  “What about George Clooney? We got anything else on him?”

  “The team are still working on locating the address attached to the bank card he used.” Zoe sighed. Nick could sense the frustration from her. She wanted things to move the way they did in her mind – lighting speed. But they never did. Not in the real world, anyway. Not in a world of limited resources and zero budgets.

  “And,” Nick said, “There’s no sign of Norman Hyde.”

  “Yup. Forensics are looking at the piece of clothing, but it could be months before they get any DNA matches.”

  “Yeah, I called Amanda Reeves and asked if they could get to work on this ASAP. She said they’d make it a priority but couldn’t promise anything.”

  “What’s next?” Zoe asked.

  “Well, I’m going home. It’s been another long day. I’ve spoken to Harrold and agreed that the CCTV will be reviewed around the clock – he wasn’t thrilled about that as they wanted to pull a lot of the resources to the gangs unit. I’m hoping they pick something up soon.”

  “OK. I’m going to chase a lead on the victim’s friend,” she hunted through her notebook, “Jane Taylor.”

  “Oh, what have you learned?”

  “Not sure but Jane and the victim had a bit of an altercation not long before she went missing.”

  “You think she had something to do with it?”

  “Not really, but best to rule it out.”

  “It is indeed,” Nick said as he stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. “Anyway, I need to get back and tell the other half the news of my parents’ intended visit on the weekend. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

  Zoe smiled. She was happy for him and for her, his other half. She hoped his wife appreciated what she had. The fairy-tale she must live in. She certainly would – clench it with both hands and never let go. The handsome husband and a child on the way.

  A family – a real family.

  Chapter 26

  Zoe sat in the office and stared blankly at the paperwork on the desk. She thought about what Nick had called his wife, the other half. She had heard the expression and its variants a million times, but today it felt like a kick in the stomach.

  Half, meaning incomplete. Was that what she was – incomplete? She began questioning whether she was fighting against the very thing she wanted the most. Swimming against the tide that was taking her to land.

  “Zoe,” Shawn, one of the Indexers, said, “Can you pop into the CCTV review room? They’re asking for you.”

  “Sure,” she said, glad to hear a voice other than her own.

  Screw fairy tales – they were for fairies; she was a detective and detectives didn’t live in a world full of rainbows and sunshine. They lived in tsunamis so others could live like fairies.

  “Hello boys,” Zoe said as she walked into the room where the two young officers were tiresomely searching through hundreds of hours of footage, “What we got?”

  “We traced the victim’s steps and managed to get footage from the underground. He pointed at the screen – a tall man with a chiselled jaw and dark blond hair. “This guy might have known the vi
ctim.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Better I should show you,” the officer zoomed back out and pressed play.

  Zoe’s eyes glued to the screen as she watched the male approach Sarah and start talking to her. They seemed to be arguing.

  “It’s a shame we don’t have audio; be interesting to hear what they were saying.”

  “I think we have a pretty good idea…” the officer said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Keep watching.”

  After a few moments, the male grabbed her arm, and she looked distressed and tried to pull away. She then struck him in the face. The male appeared to be bleeding so it must have been a good shot.

  “OK,” Zoe said, “Anything else happen with this guy?” she watched the screen as the male left the station.

  “No, he leaves, and she gets on the train.”

  “Great work, guys. Can—”

  “Already taken screens and sent them to the Indexers for enhancements and printing.”

  “I owe you boys a drink,” she smiled and walked to the exit.

  “We’ll hold you to that,” one of the officers remarked before she left.

  Zoe walked to the room full of Indexers busy working their magic.

  “Shawn, hi,” Zoe said as she approached his desk. He swivelled his chair towards her.

  “Hey,” he smiled, “I know what you’re after, and we’re on it.” He turned back to the computer and showed her the enhanced image of the white male from the station footage.

  He’s handsome, she thought. Had that Brad Pitt look.

  “You think you can get copies made and digital copies sent to Nick and me?”

  “I’m sure I can manage that.”

  “Brill, also can you run a search and see what comes up. We need to figure out who this guy is and where to find him.”

  “Already on it.”

  “Ta.”

  she walked to her desk and sat down. Finally, it seemed as if people had forgiven her for the accusations she made against Harvey. Perhaps things would go back to normal. The stares, the remarks – the silence when she would walk into the room. She still didn’t regret what she did – wrong was wrong, irrespective of who did it. And Harvey Morrison did wrong – she knew it, even if she were the only person who did.

  The answers were always in the details.

  Even now, Harvey was on eggshells. She watched him – subtly observing his body language and need for people to believe his innocence. He hovered around Indexers and kept a close watch on things. The real giveaway was the way he was towards her. An innocent man would show signs of anger and disapproval – he didn’t. He didn’t push to get her in trouble for her accusations. Aside from that one incident where they ran into each other, he avoided her like the plague. If he saw her in passing, his eyes would immediately dart in another direction, and he would vanish like an illusionist.

  Zoe filtered through the file; she found the contact details for Jane Taylor. She had to get in touch and get the details.

  The answers were always in the details.

  “Hi, is that Jane Taylor?” She asked after dialling Jane’s mobile number.

  “Yeah, who’s this?”

  “I’m Detective Sergeant Zoe Hall. I am currently one of the investigating officers looking into the murder of Sarah Fowler. Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

  “I’ve already spoken to a police officer about it,” she said defensively, “I told them everything I know.”

  “Thank you for that but I need to ask you some more questions to help with our investigation.”

  “I’m actually kinda busy with coursework and—”

  “It won’t take a moment,” Zoe jumped in, “Just a few quick questions over the phone, and I’ll leave you to your course work.”

  There was a brief pause.

  “Ok,” she responded.

  “Great. Appreciate this,” Zoe opened her notebook to a fresh page and scribbled the date and time. “Ok, so, can we start by confirming that you were Sarah Fowler’s friend?”

  “Well… we were all friends, a group of us, Melisa, Talisha, Sarah and me. Though I wasn’t very close to Sarah. Me and Talisha were friends from before university, and we work together.”

  “OK, erm… what about Melisa – would you say Sarah and Melisa were close?”

  “Yeah, they were pretty tight. Melisa was besotted with her…”

  “Can you explain what do you mean by that exactly? Besotted with her?”

  “Well, Sarah was like this lost puppy. You know, like the pretty damsel in distress – always craving attention. And Melisa, well, she was the one who liked to save everyone. The fixer, the superhero. She clung onto Sarah and met her every demand. Bought her clothes, took her out all the time and… it was just weird. And Sarah, being the spoilt brat she was, didn’t appreciate it at all.”

  “Ok thanks,” Zoe said, “Now, we’ve been informed that you had a bit of an altercation with Sarah Fowler on a day in September. When you went to dinner with Melisa and Talisha. Can you explain what happened?”

  “Who told you this? Melisa? I know it was her. Just like her to try to get involved and fix everything.” Her tone was furious, “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t want anything to do with her anymore. That night, I spoke to Sarah and told her some home truths and she didn’t like it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Melisa had got her a beautiful and expensive dress, and there we were, in a posh restaurant none of us could afford and there she was, sitting like a moody child. She made me furious. Ungrateful. Pathetic.” She paused for a moment. “Look, I didn’t like her. I am sorry she’s dead, but I can’t like her now just cause she’s dead.”

  “Of course,” Zoe said, “Is there anything else about that night that you think might be able to help us?”

  “No, she left the restaurant after that, and I was glad. I never saw her after that.” She coughed as if to clear her throat, “Now, unless there’s anything else urgent, then I really need to get this assignment done.”

  “Thanks for your time, Jane. If we need a statement, we’ll—” Jane hung up before Zoe could finish.

  Zoe leaned back in the chair and shook her head.

  A bitch but not a killer, I don’t think.

  She strolled to the board and added Brad Pitt to the list and then stepped back and leaned against the table. Her eyes were fixed on the names while her mind jumped to all sorts of possibilities and conclusions.

  “Well, this feels like a bit of a déjà vu,” Harold said as he popped his head into the office.

  “Yes,” Zoe grinned, “I suppose it does.”

  “Nick about?”

  “No, he’s gone home.”

  “I don’t blame him, to be honest,” he stepped in, “Erm… you not planning on going home?” He stood next to her and glanced at the list on the board.

  “Will head out soon – just trying to iron a few things out.”

  “Like the cast for Ocean’s Fourteen?”

  Zoe looked at him puzzled. He walked to the board and pointed at the list.

  “George Clooney, Brad Pitt and I am assuming the rest of them are not A-listers.”

  She chuckled lightly.

  “No, it’s just the way I associate things and people,”

  “That’s fine,” Harold said, “Just don’t go and start arresting A-listers!”

  “I’ll try not to,” she smiled.

  Harold’s mobile phone rang. He had one of those annoying melodies as a ringtone – one you hate but lingers and replays in your head for hours, sometimes days.

  “Hi honey,” he said and then glanced at his wrist.

  “Of course, I haven’t forgotten. I’m already in the car…” He waved goodbye and walked out of the office, leaving Zoe with only the cold breeze seeping in from the corridor.

  She wondered how it would feel to have someone calling her, remembering her, missing her, perhaps
evening needing her.

  She brushed the thought under the carpet and glanced back at the list.

  What were you and Sarah Fowler arguing about, Brad? That’s what I want to know.

  Chapter 27

  I didn’t want you to die, though I did mean for it to happen. It wasn’t premeditated but it wasn’t temporary insanity either. It was as if I had planned it without planning it.

  Anger—rage—jealousy. I felt none of those emotions, and yet I was somehow subconsciously subservient to them. No one could see the fire burning inside me as I didn’t allow the smoke to surface.

  Compelled to kill. No one could understand my infatuation, least of all, me.

  I didn’t want it to happen – at least I don’t think I did.

  But I did need it to happen – It needed to happen.

  There was no going back now; no way of turning back the clock, not that I could trust myself to do anything differently if the clocks turned back.

  Though you are dead – it’s better you stay dead.

  I thought of every eventuality and it’s better you stay dead.

  ****

  Nick had expected Stacey to be sat in front of the television munching on something as he walked into the house. It was her default position if he managed to get home at a reasonable hour. Even when he was late, in recent days, she would have fallen asleep on the couch – the television still on. She had invested in a Sony smart television and would always bang on about how great it was. It has Play Store and YouTube and connects directly to the WIFI so no need to wire it to anything, meaning no restrictions to where it could be placed, she would say, animated like a child talking about the latest and greatest toy.

  Nick wasn’t in touch with the latest technology. He wasn’t sure whether he would be as excited as her even if the television leapt off the wall and made them coffee – which he was sure would happen soon enough.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to watch anything on the box. He would, of course, sit with her while a movie or show on Netflix was playing – he never got hooked, not the way Stacey did. She would be so invested that if they watched a comedy, she would be in a giggly mood for hours and if they watched a thriller or a horror, she would double-check the doors and windows before heading to bed. Nick saw enough horror in real life to always double-check the doors and windows. And life was but a comedy.