Blood Lost

by Anna-Marie Morgan

  “I see. Did Will say if he someone scared him? Drug dealers, perhaps?”

  “No. We’ve had our share of people coming into the area, trying to take advantage of our vulnerable youngsters, as I’m sure you’re aware, but Will showed no signs of having become involved with any of them.”

  “County Lines?” the DI asked, referring to the city gangs, who operated in rural areas using dedicated phone lines.

  Sam nodded. “County Lines.”

  “Does Will have close friends he might confide in? Anyone I can talk to about possible links to the drug world?”

  Sam pursed his lips. “Only, Ashley Brennan. He’s one of Will’s best friends and, if Will talked to anyone, it’s likely to have been him.”

  “Do you have his address?”

  Sam rose from his seat. “If we’ve finished, I can get it for you from our system on the way out. Sorry, I’m five minutes late for a client.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Yvonne got up, with the aid of her cane. Dewi helped her, supporting her elbow.

  “Not at all.” Sam smiled.

  7

  Tension

  “Come in.” Chris Llewellyn sounded as though he had gravel in his throat..

  Yvonne chuckled when he cleared it and repeated the invitation.

  “Late night, sir?”

  “It’s a cold, Yvonne.” As though to prove the point, he turned his head to sneeze. “Come on in and take a seat.” He got up from behind his desk to help her.

  She held up her hand. “It’s okay, thank you. I’ve got this.”

  “How are you getting on?”

  “Good. Great.”

  “Are you really?” He tilted his head, his expression one of soft enquiry.

  “I’m not sleeping well. The nights are rough. I don't feel too bad during the day, but I ache at night. I'm stiff and sore. Other than that? It's all good.”

  “Are you on painkillers?”

  “Yes, but I’m taking less than the prescribed dose. I am a zombie on the medication. I can’t work like that.”

  He leaned back in his chair, staring at her for a second or two, lips pressed together. “Should you be working at all? Perhaps, you need more time? Stay off for a while longer and take your full prescription.”

  Yvonne narrowed her eyes. “I do better when I’m occupied. Anyway, like I said, it’s not the daytime that’s the problem, it’s at night.”

  “But, being active all day-”

  “Helps. It helps.” She gave him a hard stare, cutting him off, an unspoken advisory to push it no further.

  He nodded. “What about Dr. Rainer?”

  The DI sank in her chair. “Do I have to?”

  “Yes. We’ve been through this. You had a horrendous experience. I have a duty of care. You will talk to Karen Rainer, or I will enforce your extended sick leave.”

  “But, sir-”

  “No buts, Yvonne.” He manoeuvred his chair from behind the desk to place it next to hers. Hunching over, he placed his hands on his knees, his expression, one of concern. “I am at least partly responsible for what happened and I won’t settle until I'm sure you are fit and well.” He sat back in his seat. “So, that’s two of us who won’t sleep properly until you are better. I’m not saying this because I must. I’m saying this because I care.”

  Yvonne looked up at him. The crows feet at the corner of his eyes appeared more pronounced these days, his eyes, baggy and bloodshot because of his cold.

  Her own gaze softened. “I know. And I'm aware you could have had me disciplined. I appreciate it. And, if it means that much to you, I will have the psych sessions. All I can say, is poor Karen Rainer. To suffer me twice in her career is most unfortunate.”

  The DCI laughed, throwing his head back. “Some people suffer more than others, don't they?”

  “You cheeky…” She tapped him on the arm. “I’ll have you know she probably learns a lot from analysing me. Why, I’ve enhanced her career no end.” She grinned. “She will think I’m a basket case.”

  “You are.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Can I take you to dinner?”

  “What?”

  "Nothing like that. I’ll cook for you at mine one evening and maybe you will sleep better. Get away from everything for a while. Something different. It must be pretty tiring, trying to cook for yourself, at the moment, Yvonne."

  Although not sure it was a good idea, she answered, “all right, I’d like that.”

  “Good. Let me know a night suitable for you when you’re ready.”

  He was giving her another chance to opt out, she could tell. “Thank you, I will.”

  ❖

  Karen Rainer’s hair was up in a tight ponytail. She wore her glasses half-way down her nose. The combination gave her an air of clinical efficiency.

  The psychologist appeared supercilious, peering over her glasses.

  Yvonne had the urge to push them back up her face. Get yourself some bifocals, she thought.

  “Yvonne, it’s lovely to see you again.” Karen extended a hand to her.

  “You, too.” The DI took the offered hand in a brief shake.

  “I got you the most comfortable seat I could find. We have archaic furniture in this place. Please, take a seat.”

  Yvonne used her cane to lower herself onto the recliner, but, once seated, stayed as upright as she could.

  “What would you like to talk about?” Karen Rainer sat back, crossing her legs.

  What kind of question is that, exactly? “I don’t know.” Yvonne sighed. “My thoughts are all over the place. I don’t know if these sessions will help. I need time more than I need to talk about what happened. That’s how I feel, anyway. I must tell you, I’m here under duress.”

  “Threatened with not being allowed back if you don’t comply?”

  Why was she always so nice? “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry for that. However, since we’re here, you might as well tell me how you are.”

  “I’m not sleeping well since the incident. My mind won’t shut off. I keep seeing the insides of the lockup and bullets flying.”

  Rainer took off her glasses. “Are you having nightmares, again?”

  “Almost every night. I wake up in cold sweats. Sometimes I cry out in my sleep.” Tasha can hear me from the next room.

  “Sleep walking?”

  Yvonne shook her head. “Not that I’m aware.”

  “I can prescribe something to help you sleep-”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I’m on strong painkillers, still.”

  “I’m surprised they’re not knocking you out at night.”

  “They would be, if I took the full dose.”

  “Hmm. Are you eating well?”

  Yvonne pursed her lips. “My appetite’s been up and down.”

  “Is there something worrying you? Wondering what would have happened if you'd acted differently, perhaps?”

  “I’ve thought about that and I’m not sure what else I might have done. I mean, I reacted the way I react. If we replayed events, without the benefit of hindsight, I expect I’d do exactly the same again.”

  “It said in the notes you’d had dinner with the killer and that he’d been a colleague. You trusted him.”

  “Well, it’s not every day that someone you’ve worked with turns out to be a serial killer.”

  “So, you felt shocked and a sense of betrayal?”

  “I did. I still do.”

  "Perhaps, it’s affected your trust in yourself and in your own judgement? That can happen after events as traumatic as those you experienced."Yvonne nodded. "I wonder whether I missed something that could have saved Sharon Sutton’s life? Actually, I know I missed something.""You blame yourself."

  "Yes."

  “There, you have a possible explanation for your inability to sleep. The internal conflict you’re suffering could cause the dreams. That, and the horrific experience of being held captive and shot, obviously. Most people would sle
ep poorly after that. Only a hard person would find it easy until they’ve come to terms with it. Worked it through. That’s where talking about it will help. Get it out in the open. Let go of what’s inside instead of bottling it up.”

  Yvonne eyes flicked to the clock, high on the wall behind Rainer. “Could we cut this short?”

  Rainer ignored her question. “What about panic attacks? Are they back?”

  Yvonne shook her head. “They never really went away. They are more frequent at the moment. I have a friend who is helping me. She's amazing.”

  “A friend?”

  “Tasha. She’s a criminal psychologist, but she understands me well.”

  “That’s the lady who-”

  “A killer abducted her, yes. You were the trained negotiator for her rescue. You didn’t get to meet her. Tasha was the victim of the severe flooding in the summer and her house has been undergoing repairs. She’s staying with me while the work is being completed. It’s been of great support, physically and mentally.”

  “Useful friend to have.” Rainer placed her glasses back on to make a few notes.

  “She’s more than just a support.” Yvonne’s eyes flashed fire.

  “Wow. I meant no offence.” Karen Rainer stared, wide-eyed.

  Yvonne sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m touchy and stressed over little things since I came out of hospital. So many regrets if that makes sense.”

  “You’ve been through a traumatic experience. It’s possible you have a degree of PTSD. If you like, we can do tests-”

  Yvonne shook her head. “Perhaps, if I’m still like this next month. Honestly? I think I’m improving. I’m getting there.”

  “Talk me through your thoughts, while he held you captive.”

  Yvonne struggled. It was something she would rather forget. However, she spent the next twenty-five minutes doing her best to take the psychologist on a journey through the events in the lockup. When she finished, she again looked at the clock above Rainer’s head.

  Rainer nodded. “Forty minutes goes by so quickly. Would you like me to schedule in extra sessions?”

  “No.” Yvonne coloured. “I mean, no, thank you.”

  “Well then, I'm glad we got the course underway. I’ll see you the same time again next week.”

  8

  A friend in need

  “I was in a foul mood!” Yvonne sighed, throwing her bag down on the hallway table.

  “Sorry?” Tasha helped her get her coat off.

  “I had a psych session today with Karen Rainer. I didn’t want to go. I felt awkward and talking seemed like the hardest thing for me to do… She’s a good person. Patient and insightful. I don’t know how she puts up with analysing cranks like me for a living. Surely, there are better things to do in life? She didn’t seem put off by me.”

  Tasha laughed. “You’re not that bad, even when you’re cranky. It was probably worse in your head than it was in reality.”

  “You think?” Yvonne grinned back. “I bet she’s off sick next week.”

  “What, to avoid seeing you?”

  “Yes. And I can’t say I’d blame her.”

  "Don’t be daft. I’m sure she’s had worse. It’s par for the course, anyway, most people feel uncomfortable being analysed. I bet she enjoys the tussle. Keeps things interesting. If you were in good shape you wouldn’t need to have therapy sessions, would you? The question is, is it helping?"

  "I think it will, if I continue to go."

  "Then she's doing a good job and you are doing fine."

  "Yes, I suppose you're right."

  "I telephoned the decorators today."

  “Have they finished?”

  “Pretty much. They’re doing the final touches. They said my cottage will be ready next week.”

  “That’s great news.” Yvonne gave her friend a hug. “Does that mean you’ll be leaving?”

  “Not unless you want me too.” Tasha tilted her head. “You’re still struggling with everyday tasks. I’m happy to stay longer, at least until you can do the things you need to.”

  “I appreciate that.” Yvonne placed a hand on Tasha’s arm. “It’s thoughtful of you.”

  “His trial started today.”

  “Whose trial?”

  “Wyn Sealander's trial. It's only the preliminary hearings, but it’s a start.”

  “I’m surprised he’s well enough to attend…”

  “It’s in the paper, do you want to see it?”

  Yvonne shook her head. “I’d rather not. Not yet.”

  “I’ll bin it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Come on through. Hope you’re hungry, I’ve made chicken salad.”

  The DI grinned. “I knew there was a reason you’re my friend.”

  9

  Carter and Sons

  Carter and Sons was a popular if not the main estate agents in the Newtown area. On the middle of Broad Street, it boasted a wide variety of properties from small terraced homes to large country dwellings. Its reputation preceded it.

  Yvonne leaned on her cane, pushing open the glass door.

  Dewi hadn’t yet joined her. He was driving round the block, trying to find a parking spot.

  “Inspector Giles?” A middle-aged man in a shirt and tie, grey hair thinning on top, greeted her. “I’m Griff Carter, senior partner here.” He held out his hand.

  “Pleased to meet you.” Yvonne pushed her bag up her shoulder, freeing her hand to shake.

  Another male, younger than the first, with shiny shoes, came from behind his desk to join them. “John Stokes, junior partner.”

  “Thank you both for your time.” Yvonne shifted her weight to ease the ache in her hip.

  “Come on through and we’ll get you a chair.” Her physical discomfort clear, Griff eyed her as though unsure what to do to help. He hastily moved chairs and other items out of the way as he led her through a doorway at the back of the office. “We come here on our breaks. It's almost bigger than the main office.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The tearoom was spacious. It surprised her, given the limited size of the building. Yvonne thought of the desk back in CID with the kettle and a coffee machine. This was a far cry.

  Turned upside down on the drainer, sat a mug with KATE written on the side. The DI pressed her lips together, hoping the owner would soon be back to drink from it again.

  “Can we get you anything?”

  Yvonne shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  She took a seat in the offered chair. "How was Kate, in the weeks preceding her family's disappearance? Did she seem any different to you?"

  "She was fine, same as usual, as far as we could tell. We were discussing it only the other day. Wondering if we might have missed something."

  “Did she mention problems at home?”

  Griff leaned back in his chair, pursing his lips. "Nothing comes to mind. What about you, John?"

  John rubbed his chin, eyes on the ceiling while he thought about it. "She didn't mention problems, but I thought she was on a downer on the last day she was here."

  “What do you mean, on a downer?” Yvonne got out her notebook.

  "Well, she would usually chat over coffee, asking about my kids, that sort of thing. Charlie, my eldest, has been having problems in school. Kate would always ask about him. I thought it odd she didn't that day, given he’d just had his school report, and I’d mentioned that to her. Her eyes were glazed over as though she was somewhere else and not aware of what was happening around her. Something was distracting her."

  “Was she like that all day?”

  John shook his head. “She was brighter in the afternoon. Still quiet, though.”

  “Were there signs of abuse? Bruises, anxiety, mood swings, anything like that?”

  Griff placed his hands in his pockets. “I saw no bruises. She wasn't shaking or anything and she didn't tell me something was worrying her.”

  "Did she get on okay with her husband?"

  "A
s far as I know, they were fine. She made it plain she loved him, talking about his work and business plans. I had no doubts about the strength of their relationship."

  “Did you see them together?”

  “Let me think.” Griff placed his hands behind his head. “The last time I saw them together, was at last year’s Christmas party. In the Elephant and Castle. All the local estate agents attended and brought their partners. Kate came with Michael and he looked like he was enjoying himself. They appeared happy in each other's company, natural and relaxed. I mean, they weren’t touchy-feely, but they’ve been married for over twenty years. They seemed comfortable around each other.”

  “And you would have noticed if there had been tension between them?”

  “I’m sure, yes. I talked to them for a while.”

  “Me, too.” John nodded.

  "Did she ever mention any concerns at all regarding any of her other relationships?"

  “The only problems she mentioned were in relation to her son, Will.”

  "Go on…"

  “She took him to regular appointments with Mental Health.”

  “That's the children’s team?”

  “Yes. She sometimes looked worried after the sessions.”

  “Did she tell you of any concerns around those sessions?”

  “Don't recall her doing that. I would ask about the appointments, and she would tell me they’d gone well, or they'd made progress. But there were times, she would shake her head and remain tight-lipped. I didn't have the heart to press her on it. Perhaps, I should have.”

  “Did she ever worry about hers or her husband’s safety, in relation to Will?”

  Griff shook his head. “She wouldn't have a wrong word said about that boy. Even if she had had concerns, I doubt she would have run them past us. Even, considering how friendly we all were. I know she loves him and would do anything for him and that includes protecting him at whatever cost to herself.”