Country Lines (A DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thriller Book 8)

by Oliver Davies

  They gave me an unimpressed look. “No, sir,” the taller one said flatly.

  “Sorry.” I gave them a sheepish smile. “I’ll leave it in your capable hands then.”

  Once the DCs had headed inside, and the house’s driveway was occupied only by two police cars and the ambulance, I went up to rejoin Stephen and the traumatised mother and son. Soft giggling reached my ears as I went up the stairs. I smiled hesitantly as I stuck my head around Elijah’s bedroom door.

  Stephen sat with the boy, playing a game with his hands that the kid seemed to be loving, whilst a paramedic looked over Faith. She certainly wasn’t smiling, her face pasty and mouth set in a grim line. She had the side of her shirt lifted up for the paramedic to see, and I caught sight of a large expanse of purple-green bruises before I quickly looked away.

  I decided that I’d stay by the door and not encroach on Stephen’s playtime with Elijah. The kid already seemed as happy as he could be after such a scarring event, and I didn’t want to scare him. He didn’t know me, after all, and he might have seen strange men beating his mum in recent days and weeks. The fact that Stephen had managed to get him to relax and play was a miracle, but then he always had been good with children.

  The paramedic finished checking Faith over and turned to give me a nod as she stood up. Faith looked shaken, still, and didn’t get up from her son’s bed. The covers were a faded Spiderman print, and I smiled faintly to see them. Once the medic had stood up, Elijah turned to look at his mum and scrambled up from the floor to join her. She gave him a watery smile and pulled him into a hug.

  “She should be okay,” the paramedic told me quietly as she came over to me, heavy green bag in hand. “She should go to the hospital just in case, but I’m not sure she’ll agree.”

  “And the little boy’s okay?”

  “Yes, he’s fine. Physically, at least,” she added, her mouth tilted down at the edges.

  I gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Thanks for the help.”

  She headed out, leaving Stephen and me alone with the mother and child.

  “Okay, our first priority is keeping you both safe,” I told Faith. She held her son close to her, even though it must have pulled on her injuries. “I’d like to take you to a Women’s Aid shelter, where they can get you and Elijah the support you need, as well as a bed for the night.”

  “Why can’t we stay here?” Faith asked hesitantly.

  I hated the wary look in her eyes when she spoke as if I was going to start yelling at her or worse. Stephen remained sitting on the floor, and that made him much less threatening, but I was standing in the doorway and blocking the exit. I would’ve moved, but there wasn’t anywhere else in the little room to go, and I didn’t want to crowd Faith’s space.

  I glanced over at Stephen before I answered. “A few reasons. Firstly, this place isn’t as secure as a women’s shelter, and I don’t want you to get hurt if any of that man’s friends decide to come back overnight. We’ll do everything we can to keep you safe, okay?”

  Faith pressed her lips together and gave a small nod.

  “We also need to search the property,” I told her hesitantly. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to the news, but I expected it might be bad. Unfortunately, I was right.

  “Please, I didn’t want to!” she pleaded, her eyes going wide with panic. “I didn’t want- I didn’t take their money, I-”

  “Woah, woah,” Stephen said, patting the air with his hands. “Faith... Can I call you that?” She calmed down enough to give a nod of confirmation. “Okay, thank you. We didn’t introduce ourselves, did we? I’m Stephen Huxley, and this is Darren Mitchell. We’re here to support you as much as we can, Faith. We believe that you didn’t want to do this.”

  I gave him a sideways glance. We didn’t know for certain that Faith was telling the truth, though I sure as hell believed she was. I just wasn’t sure about Stephen making promises like that, but I stayed quiet. It seemed to be calming her down, and that’s what we needed.

  “So-so you won’t take my son?” she breathed, looking between us and hugging her son close. He watched us with similarly wide eyes.

  “We want to keep you safe, that’s all,” I cut in before Stephen could promise them anything else. “We’ll take you both to the women’s shelter, and they can help you further, okay?”

  She gave me a tentative nod, though she didn’t look quite convinced. It was enough for now.

  “Okay, then. Let’s head down to the car.”

  We coaxed the pair into the back of the car, transferring a child’s car seat from the house into the car for Elijah. I handed them over to the DCs, making sure to introduce them and assure them that everything was going to be fine.

  “You aren’t taking us?” Faith said. Though she spoke to me, her eyes looked more towards Stephen. He’d won their trust when he played with Elijah and with his kind words.

  “These two will take care of you, I promise,” I said. I patted my pockets and came up with a business card. “Here, look, if you need anything, you can give Stephen and me a call, alright?”

  I handed it to her through the window, and she gave a quiet thank you. We watched them head off, the DCs driving extra carefully with a child in the back.

  “I wish we could have taken them,” Stephen said.

  “We need to look over the house, mate.”

  “Couldn’t the DCs have handled it?”

  I turned to give him a slight frown. “Sure, they could have, but it’s our job too. We’ll have another chance to talk to Faith another day.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Okay. I feel for them, that’s all.”

  “I know, bud. They will get good care at the women’s shelter, though.”

  “I know they will.”

  After a pause, he turned back towards the house, and we got kitted up in booties and gloves in silence. We’d already tramped through the house in order to help Faith and Elijah, but there was no point in making things worse, even if the plastic gloves did make my hands sweat.

  “I’ll start in the back room,” Stephen told me, heading off without waiting for a response. I guessed he wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a while and left him to it, moving to search the kitchen.

  It took what remained of the afternoon to work over the house, and it was getting dark outside by the time we were done. We’d found a good amount of useful evidence, though, and I was pleased with our progress. We’d also had a text a while ago from the DCs to say that Faith and Elijah had arrived at the shelter and settled in okay. Stephen had seemed glad to hear it.

  “All done, I think,” I concluded. My nose was stuffy with dust, and my eyes watered.

  Stephen groaned as he stretched his arms above his head. “Thank God for that. I’m starving.”

  “Of course you are,” I chuckled.

  I put my hands on my hips as I looked down at the bounty we’d found and gave a nod of satisfaction to myself. Most of the equipment and drugs had been found in Faith’s bedroom, stored haphazardly in the wardrobe. I didn’t think Faith had been staying in there for a long time because her dressing table was coated with dust, and it was a mess, clothes tossed out of the wardrobe at random. She’d been staying with her son, I guessed, considering how neat Elijah’s bedroom had been, the covers made up on the bed with obvious care.

  In the wardrobe, we’d found a worrying amount of both Class A and B drugs, as well as weighing scales, which were coated in thin dust. I’d been careful to put it in an evidence bag without knocking the powder off. In the kitchen, Stephen had unearthed an old flora box from a drawer that had been filled with sim cards, an old phone, a couple of passports and several bank cards. None of which would be legitimate, I guessed.

  “Time for home, then?” Stephen asked as we were loading the evidence bags carefully into the back of the car.

  “We’ll drop this lot off at Hewford, but home after that, aye.”

  He looked tired, his smile weary, and I knew that seeing Elijah and his m
um had got to him. I squeezed his shoulder in sympathy, and he gave me a grateful look.

  “I’ll be alright. It’s just the kids, man. When they get caught up in adult business, it’s always the worst.”

  “Agreed.”

  He sighed. We finished loading the boot, and he climbed into the car. I’d called in someone to patch up the front door so that Faith wouldn’t lose any of her things, and they arrived just as we were leaving. I gave them a grateful thumbs up as we headed off and got a raised hand in return.

  I waved off Stephen when he tried to help carry the evidence bags upstairs in Hewford.

  “Head off home, mate. You want to be with your family, and I can handle this.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t like to ditch you…”

  “You’re not. But if you feel that bad, you can buy me a coffee at Costa tomorrow, okay?” I grinned at him, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

  “I sure will.” He patted my back before heading out.

  It didn’t take me too long to carry the bags inside, and I didn’t mind jogging up and down the stairs a couple of times because I’d missed my chance for a run this evening. I’d sent Sam a text to let her know not to wait for me and had sensed her disappointment in her reply, though I knew she understood. Sometimes the job had to come first, but that didn’t mean I loved her any less.

  The lab was locked up for the evening, so I stored the bags for now and picked up my things. I’d ask Sam to have a look over them tomorrow, though she’d still not got back to me about the other things, and I doubted she’d have the time soon. We were still making progress on the case, and I knew she was working just as hard as she could, as was Keira, so bugging them wouldn’t achieve anything except to annoy them.

  I was looking forward to heading home and relaxing with Sam on the sofa, eating a late dinner in front of the TV as we talked about our day when my phone rang. I’d just stepped out of the station and into the light rain, so I strode towards my car as I answered the call.

  “DCI Mitchell-”

  “Darren?” It was my mum, her voice low.

  I frowned. My hand was on my car door, but I didn’t open it for a second.

  “Hi, mum.” I didn’t know her tells as well as Sam’s, and I couldn’t quite read her voice.

  “Sorry to bother you,” she said, still all in a whisper. “You said to call if I thought something was wrong, and well, I…” She trailed off. I forced myself to move, climbing into the car and clipping my seatbelt in.

  “What’s going on? Talk to me,” I said, using my police voice to try to get her to respond.

  “I think there’s someone in the house,” she whispered.

  I muttered a curse. “Have you called the police, the local police, I mean?” I was a fair distance away from her house, and I didn’t know how long it’d take me to get there. At least rush hour was mostly over, so I hopefully wouldn’t be competing with traffic.

  “N-no, I called you first.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. Where are you now? Are you safe?”

  I put the phone on loudspeaker and set it down on the passenger seat as I got the car in gear and set off. I’d visited my mum enough times by now that I didn’t need the SatNav to tell me where to go.

  “Yes, I think so. I’m upstairs, in the bathroom. I locked the door.”

  “Good job,” I said. “I need to call the local police, mum, okay? They can get to you faster than I can. I’ll call you straight back. Make sure your phone is on silent. Can you remember how to do that?”

  There was a long silence. “I think so.”

  “Okay. I’m hanging up now, I’ll only be a few seconds.”

  It felt wrong to get off the phone with her when she was quite possibly in danger, but I really did need to call the police for her. I hurried through a call to the emergency services, telling them my mum’s address and what was happening. I got back onto the phone with my mum within a minute, and it was a relief to hear her voice again.

  “Darren,” she said quietly, not quite a question. I shifted the car into high gear as I got onto the main road.

  “Aye?”

  “I’m scared.”

  I bit my lip. “I know, mum,” I said gruffly, my voice thick. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

  I pushed my foot down and kept driving.

  Twelve

  I flopped into my desk chair the next morning, utterly worn out. Stephen sent me a concerned look and handed over a coffee.

  “You’re an angel,” I muttered, swallowing half the mug before I set it back down.

  “Don’t tell me you stayed really late here last night? I should’ve stayed to help you out,” he said, frowning.

  I waved a hand to dismiss his apology. “It wasn’t that, don’t stress. My mum called me, thinking she had a burglar or worse in the house.”

  Stephen’s eyes widened. “Is she okay?” he asked, genuine worry in his voice.

  “Aye, she’s right as rain. There didn’t seem to be anyone in the house when the local police turned up, and I went over there to check, too. I slept over there just in case. Had to drive back at a stupid time this morning.” I rubbed a hand over my eyes with a groan.

  “That must have been scary for the pair of you,” Stephen commiserated.

  “Aye. Yesterday had far too much drama. We’ll probably leave Chance with her for a while. He can keep her company and save us on bills for the creché.” I huffed a half-hearted laugh and took another swig of coffee, giving a satisfied sigh.

  “Coffee and some breakfast will sort you out. I bet you didn’t eat this morning?” Stephen said.

  “You bet right. My mum tried to give me something, but I was in a rush.” I patted my pockets and dug out the Tupperware she’d pushed into my pocket as I was running out. I peeled it open and found a cluster of grapes and a pain au chocolat.

  I didn’t know whether it was tiredness or something else, but my eyes turned slightly watery at the sight. I’d never had packed lunches growing up, my dad paying for school meals until I was old enough to make my own lunch. Having something my mum had put together, even though I was a grown adult and not a school kid, made my chest clench.

  “You okay?” Stephen asked, putting a hand on my arm. I cleared my throat and told myself not to be such a sap.

  “Aye,” I forced out. I chewed a couple of grapes, hoping that the sugar would help, and Stephen let me be.

  I was just finishing up my belated breakfast, checking through my emails as I ate, when Rashford waved us over to her office. I brushed the flakes of pastry off my fingers and stood up.

  “The hospital’s been in touch,” she said, getting straight to the chase. “The drugs Victor Roberts took were a mix of heroin and fentanyl, very similar to Max Rider and Jackson-” She stalled on the man’s name.

  “Lowe,” I filled in. I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing, and my head spun. So the two incidents were connected, or at least they got their drugs from the same place.

  Rashford clicked her fingers when I gave her Jackson’s surname and gave me a nod. She’d done her braided hair up in a stylish knot today, tying it with a navy scarf, and there was a touch of golden-brown eyeshadow on her eyelids.

  “Jackson Lowe, that’s it. The drugs were extremely strong, the hospital said.”

  “Stronger than what Max and Jackson took, ma’am?” I queried.

  “Yes, a great deal. Either Roberts took a much larger quantity of them, or the drugs themselves were purer and stronger.”

  “Did they say how he’s doing, ma’am?” Stephen said.

  “He’s stable,” she said.

  Which meant that he remained in a coma, I thought grimly. Speaking to him could help us out immensely, but there was no hope of that when he hadn’t even woken up.

  Stephen gave a solemn nod. Rashford folded her hands on her desk, her long nails painted red.

  “I hear you had an eventful day yesterday,” she prompted, looking between us.

  It t
ook a little longer than ten minutes to get her up to date about what had happened with Faith, and Rashford listened intently, only occasionally breaking in to ask a question.

  There was a knock at the door as I was finishing speaking. Even as I’d been talking, I’d been thinking about what our next steps were and what I could ask the DCs at our disposal to get on with. I had them running around York recently, helping Stephen and me out at Roberts and Faith’s houses, but they needed some more to get on with here at Hewford.

  It was Sam who stepped into Rashford’s office, and I pulled my head back into the moment when I saw her. She looked a touch nervous with being in the presence of a senior officer, and I understood the feeling, even though it’d mostly worn off for me by now.

  “Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” she said. Rashford just nodded, waiting for her to go on. “Uh, well, I have some information that might be of help. Da- I mean, DCI Mitchell brought over some evidence from Mr Roberts’ house, and I’ve got the results back on the drugs.”

  Rashford looked interested at that and waved her hand. “What did you find?”

  “Well, the composition looks very similar to what Jackson and Max took, for a start.” She saw that none of us looked surprised at that and went on. “However, the difference in strength between the two is huge. Mr Roberts was given much stronger drugs. He likely only took a small amount, much less than Jackson and Max, and yet it nearly killed him.”

  I took a moment to process that, my eyebrows raised. “Why would his dealers give him something so pure, so strong that it nearly killed him at a normal dose? That doesn’t make any sense. They lose a customer, and they lose money. The pure stuff has got to be expensive. Unless they didn’t know,” I mused.

  “It’s a possibility,” Sam said with a small shrug.

  I was reminded that it was her job to give us the information and ours to interpret it and stopped my wonderings. I sent her a grateful smile for bringing us the information, and she looked slightly flustered.

  “Good work,” Rashford praised. We talked for a brief while longer, but there wasn’t much more to add that wasn’t speculation at this point. We’d already informed her what leads we were working on, and she’s approved them.