“Right.” I fiddled with the zipper on my coat. “The two men that attacked me when I was running…”
Gaskell raised his eyebrows. “You think it could’ve been them?”
“It would make sense, wouldn’t it, sir? I didn’t get a look at them, though, I couldn’t identify them.”
“We’ll be on the lookout for them, too, then,” Gaskell said.
Back at our cars, Gaskell called into the Lockdale station and asked for two of his constables to come up to the farm, to keep a lookout for Maisy returning.
“You two’ll stay until my two arrive?” Gaskell instructed.
“Yes, sir.”
Kay and I followed him down the track towards the entrance, pulling off onto the grass at the side of the track near the entrance whilst Gaskell drove off back to the station.
“I’m too old for stake-outs.”
I looked over at Kay with a grunt of agreement. Fishing around in the glovebox, I found a pack of Starbursts and offered her a couple.
We sat there, waiting for the constables to show up for close to half-an-hour, listening to the chatter on the news and watching the birds wheel up in the grey sky, which seemed to darken by the minute. The nighttime was closing in fast, and we hadn’t even gotten to the end of September yet. I preferred the fresh chill of winter to the sticky heat of summer, but I couldn’t say I relished the darker, short days, and especially as of right now, where we were parked on the land that belonged to the people who might have tried to kill me on two different occasions.
Kay’s stomach was rumbling loudly by the time the constables finally showed up, struggling up the incline at the entrance and then stopping sharply when they saw us. A young man with dark hair and large, concerned eyes hopped out and hurried over. I wound the window down.
“Sorry we’re late, sir, ma’am,” he said in a rush. “Got a bit lost.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering how on earth they’d managed that in this day and age, with phone sat navs and all. But I just nodded, and he went back to his car, moving it out the way so that we could head out.
“Finally,” Kay muttered as we wound back down the lane. She turned up the heat, and we drove back in quiet, both lost in our own thoughts.
I was wondering where Maisy had run to, where she felt safe, secure and hidden. She might’ve managed to take off across the country down back lanes, though I expected Gaskell had put out the number plate of whatever car she was registered with. If she went on any motorways or main roads with cameras, we were sure to hear about it.
I reminded myself to ask Gaskell whether her car or a car in the family was a green Land Rover. It wouldn’t prove anything definitively, since farming families frequently owned such vehicles, but it would be another piece in the puzzle.
“I wonder whether her brothers know,” Kay said.
I rubbed a hand over my cheek, which was finally warm again after the whipping wind had rendered it numb. “I don’t know. It’s more likely than the parents, I’d say.”
Kay agreed quietly. “Where do you think she’s gone?”
I pulled a face. “I don’t know that either. Could be a relative’s, could be here on the farm somewhere, could have bolted off to… Norfolk or god knows where the minute she saw her picture on the news.”
Kay sighed, taking her hand off the wheel to pat my shoulder. “They’ll get her. We’ll get her.”
“Ruddy hope so, after all this.”
The station was quieter when we got back than when we’d left it, and I nodded to a couple of York officers whose faces I knew but not their names. Maha was out doing a shift watching Sarah, and Samuel actually seemed to be working. DCI Gaskell went into Hogan’s office to let her know what had happened at the Collins’ farm.
Whilst Kay beelined towards her lunch, I headed immediately for the kettle to make coffee and found a York officer there, grumbling over the lack of a coffee machine. Having a coffee machine would definitely be a perk of moving to a city detective unit, I thought, though doing it by hand did mean I could make it as lethally strong as I wanted.
My phone went off the moment I returned to my desk, not sparing me enough time to even take a sip of coffee.
I didn’t recognise the number calling me but picked up, anyway.
“DI Mitchell speaking.”
“Hello?” a slightly timid voice said. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. “It’s Liz Jones. You gave me your card?”
I sat up. “I did, yes. Did you remember something new?”
“No, not exactly.” She hesitated, and I waited quietly though I was almost fidgeting with impatience. “I saw someone— It’s probably nothing.”
“Please, go on. It might be important.”
She took a breath. “There was someone at Freddie’s grave this morning.” Her voice sounded shaky on the other end of the line. “I’ve not seen anyone there before, not in the last couple of months, anyway. But maybe it was nothing, it’s just,” She faltered again, “she seemed really spooked when I arrived, and she walked off real fast.”
She? I thought. “What did this woman look like?” I fumbled for my pad of paper and flipped through to a clean page.
Liz was silent for a minute, and I waited, hoping she wasn’t going to say she didn’t remember. “She looked weirdly familiar,” she said. “Really dark hair and small, smaller than me. But she looked strong, too, you know.”
“Where are you at the moment?”
“I’m at home,” Liz said, noticeably surprised. “Why?”
“Do you have access to the internet?”
“Of course.”
“Can you look up the name ‘Maisy Collins’ for me? She should be in the local news.”
There was rustling on Liz’s end like she was moving around. “Why am I doing this?”
“I want you to look at the picture of her,” I said as I did the same thing she did. More specifically, I decided to check to see if Maisy had a social media presence.
“Okay.”
As I waited, I found Maisy’s Facebook page, judging by the familiar-looking profile picture. I tapped my pencil against the paper as I scrolled through and looked at pictures of her friends and family, waiting for Liz to find the picture online. I could have taken a photocopy of Samuel’s drawing round to her, but this seemed more efficient.
I heard a quiet inhale. “That’s her,” Liz said.
“How sure are you?”
“Like, totally. She looked just like that. And kind of angry like that, too, frowning. Honestly, it all kind of unnerved me.”
“I really appreciate you calling me and letting me know,” I assured her. “When did you see her?”
“At the start of my lunch break. I usually visit Freddie then,” she sounded a little shy about it. “So, probably twelve.” I checked my watch, that’d been about an hour and a half ago.
I jotted it down as I asked, “And which way did she go?”
Liz made an uncertain noise. “Away from town, I think? I’m not sure, I was a bit rattled.”
“Okay, no problem. Thank you, Liz. Please call back if you see her again, or anything else strange.”
She said she would and hung up. I set my phone down and hurried over to Hogan’s office, where DCI Gaskell was still talking to her. I knocked, but entered without waiting, for which I received a cold look from Hogan.
“Sorry, chief,” I said hastily, before looking at Gaskell. “I just got a call from someone who saw Maisy at Freddie’s grave, around twelve.” Gaskell checked his watch like I had and then nodded.
“Take your partner and have a look around. You know which way she headed?”
“A rough idea.”
He gestured for me to go ahead, so I went to fetch Kay, who had Lexi curled around her feet and was happily tucking into a delicious looking wrap, no doubt made by her wife.
“Kay.”
Kay looked up, and her face went stern. “No,” she said. “I’m eating.”
�
��You can eat in the car, come on. Maisy was spotted.”
Kay swallowed her mouthful with an annoyed look, but she nudged Lexi out of the way and grabbed her lunch and jacket before following me out.
“Why can’t criminals take a break for lunch?” she grumbled as I got into the driver’s seat. She was still chewing her lunch, and the smell was making my stomach rumble hopefully. I hadn’t had anything but coffee and a couple of Starbursts since breakfast. “It’s just not civilised.”
She clipped in her belt, and I drove towards the graveyard. Kay saw the hopeful way I looked at the end of her wrap and sighed, offering it to me.
“You’re the best.” I ate it whole, practically groaning at the taste. “What is that?”
“Smoked halloumi with salad and Anna’s secret sauce recipe.”
“It’s divine.”
“I know,” Kay said seriously, and I chuckled.
“Anna should write a cookbook or something.”
“I’ve told her so repeatedly.”
We drew up near the graveyard, halting our conversation. We both turned to scan the graveyard, but there was only an elderly couple with a bunch of red flowers. I glanced around the neighbouring streets and behind us, but there was no-one close to Maisy’s picture nearby.
“This was where she was seen?”
“Yeah, at twelve.” I moved the car forwards slowly, heading out of town.
“Any idea where she went?”
“Freddie’s girlfriend just said out of town.”
“Not very specific,” Kay grumbled, but she kept an intent lookout as we moved out of town.
“She couldn’t have walked all the way from here to her home, could she?” I thought aloud. “It’s miles away.”
Kay made a noise of agreement. “So she must have parked up and then driven out.”
“That makes the most sense.”
This sighting showed that she hadn’t bolted out of the county at least and was still in the area for now. Why exactly she’d gone to Freddie’s grave, I wasn’t sure. If it had been her who hit his bike that night and killed him, perhaps she felt guilty. That she’d been seen there strengthened our case that Freddie and Graham’s deaths were linked.
Now we just had to find her.
Nineteen
As we were driving away from the graveyard, my phone went off in my pocket. Without asking, Kay went ahead and pulled it out. I raised my eyebrows at her but didn’t comment.
“This is DS McGregor and DI Mitchell,” Kay said as she put it on speakerphone.
“It’s Gaskell. My constables just called in to say the brothers have turned up at the farm. They didn’t come in through the front entrance but could be seen moving up near one of the barns. Can you head over?”
“Sure, will do, sir,” Kay said.
“Good.” Gaskell hung up, and I started driving while Kay pulled up directions on my phone for the quickest route to the Collins’ farm from where we were. It’d take us a short while, but we were already headed in the right direction. I wondered whether the brothers had gone back to meet Maisy, or whether Maisy had been with them all along. There was always the possibility that they had no idea what their sister had gotten herself into or where she was, but I felt like that was relatively unlikely.
We pulled up at the farm just as it was starting to rain, the tyres of our car sliding on the mud as we crawled onto the track. The York constables’ car was sitting there, and one of them came out to talk to us, his eyes screwed up against the blustery wind and spitting rain.
“Sir, ma’am, you’ve been filled in?” he asked, ducking down beside Kay’s side of the car.
“Mostly,” Kay said. “When did you see the brothers?”
“Around a half-hour ago? They were up in the barn and didn’t seem to see us. They’ve probably headed up to the house by now, so I reckon their old man will have told them we dropped by.”
“Alright,” I nodded. “We’ll head up. You guys can watch here for Maisy, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” The constable disappeared quickly back into his car, and I started up the engine, heading up the track for a second time that day. The ground felt far skiddier under the tyres than it had earlier, though I hadn’t been driving then.
“You think they’re there?”
“Most likely,” I said. “It’s not their picture that’s been in the news.” I thought about how I might be about to come face to face with the men that shot at me and repressed a shiver.
“You okay?”
I nodded at Kay, and we pulled up outside the house a minute later. Nothing looked any different from earlier. I wondered how the brothers had returned to the farm since there didn’t seem to be an extra vehicle lying around.
The rain was coming down heavier, and Kay and I hurried from the car to the rickety porch. This time, it was Kay and I that knocked on the door, and Mr Collins senior wasn’t the one that answered it. I could hear the dog barking but muffled at the back of the house, so that we were able to hear heavy footsteps approaching.
The door was pulled open abruptly, and then the sharp, frowning face of a young man looked out. “Who’re you?”
I pulled out my badge and so did Kay before we introduced ourselves. I noticed how the man’s face went from vaguely frowning to glaring, his lips curled into a half-snarl.
“It was yous that came bothering our dad earlier, then,” he said harshly.
I resisted the urge to look over at Kay and tried to keep a neutral expression as I tucked my badge away. “Are you one of Maisy Collins’ brothers?”
“What’s it to you?”
“We’re looking for Maisy,” Kay said, her tone carefully measured. “We’d like to talk to her, and it’ll be better for her if we don’t have to go running round after her.”
The young man sneered. “Sure it will,” he said. “She’s not here, anyway.” He moved to shove the door shut, but I put my boot out, blocking the door from closing. He looked at me, irritated and affronted. “What?” he growled.
“Look, it’s Jake, isn’t it?” I said, remembering what I’d seen when I looked up Maisy on Facebook once we’d found her identity. This brother looked to be the younger but taller one. “I know you’re probably protective over your sister, but she’s making it worse by hiding. It doesn’t look good.”
“I dunno what you mean. She isn’t here and I dunno where she is.” He looked us up and down. “Get lost.”
“Mr Collins,” I snapped, deciding that being friendly wasn’t going to work. “We need to talk to your brother, and we assume he’s here. If you continue to obstruct our questioning, you may be arrested. Please bear that in mind.”
Jake Collins looked at me like he wanted to not only throw me off his land but run me over with a harvester too. I wondered if it had been him who’d aimed a rifle at me, and I didn’t find it hard to believe seeing the dark look in his eye. He seemed to hate me.
But all he said, in the end, was, “Fine.”
He twisted around and strode off into the dimly lit house, and Kay and I glanced at one another with matching frowns before we trailed after him.
The house wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t warm either. It was full of dusty piles of belongings, various bits of farm materials, old furniture and bags of feed. There was a living room off to the right, and then further down the corridor, stairs up on the left.
“Henry!” Jake Collins yelled, making both Kay and I jump.
A muffled, “What?” was heard from upstairs and Jake clomped up the wooden stairs in his boots, looking back once with an awful glower on his face to make sure we were following and, presumably, not poking around.
Every step of the stairs creaked as we climbed, and they were uneven enough that I had to watch my footing, though I still almost managed to fall over the rug on the upstairs floor.
Jake went down the hallway and pushed open the door to one of the rooms. He jerked his thumb towards it and then stepped back, staring at us coldly until we stepped forwar
ds to go in.
The bedroom was dusty but neat, the floorboards worn and old under our feet. Looking too long for the single bed he sprawled on was Jake’s older brother, Henry.
“Henry Collins?” I said to be sure.
“Aye?” he said, looking startled as he sat up. Jake had come into the room behind us and stood, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Henry’s gaze darted between Jake and us. There was intelligence there, as he narrowed his eyes at us. “Who’re you?”
“They’re cops,” Jake put in. “Chasing after May.”
“May?” I repeated before I could stop myself. Jake and Henry looked at me with similar looks of confusion, though Jake’s was heavier with malintent. But Kay met my gaze with a knowing look.
The emails addressed to May. That was Maisy’s nickname, and perhaps what she’d been called at school whilst Graham was teaching her, if he’d used that name in the email and not Maisy. It was coming together slowly.
“Maisy, yes,” I said, focusing on Henry. “We’d like to ask your sister some questions. Do you know where she is?”
Henry looked over at Jake again before he shook his head. “No idea.” He didn’t sound too sure, and I frowned sternly at him.
“Are you certain? Because lying to us would count as an obstruction of justice. Maisy would be best to come to us to tell her side of this.”
Jake scoffed behind us, and I would have glared at him if I’d not been watching Henry’s much more open face closely.
I couldn’t quite tell what emotions passed across his expression, but there seemed to be fear there, for himself or Maisy I wasn’t sure. Though Henry was the older one, it seemed like Jake was far more invested in this than Henry.
“I- I don’t know where she is,” he stuttered and avoided our eyes. “She’s usually at work this time.”
“Indeed,” I said coldly. “But she hasn’t been at work for a couple of days, has she?”
Henry faltered. “I didn’t know that?”
Kay and I looked at each other in such a way that I knew we were both thinking the same thing.
“You boys will need to come with us to answer some questions down at the station,” I said flatly, though I was rigidly tense, primed to expect violence, particularly from Jake.
DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3 Page 17