“No. You’ve got nothing to worry about. No one else…wait. So who are the flowers from?” She frowned.
“Now you get it.” Gina sighed. “If they’re really not from you, then I’ve got no idea.”
“Fifty?”
Gina nodded.
“Roses?”
“Yellow ones.”
Kate whistled. “That’s some serious cash, Gina. You sure no one’s been, I don’t know…”
“Sniffing around?”
Kate shrugged. “For want of a better phrase.”
“No one. I’m the village pariah.”
“Was there a message with them?”
“Yeah. It said ‘Missed you last night. How about tonight we make it special? The Victoria, 8 p.m.?’ With two kisses at the end.”
“Okay, that explains the text you sent me. About staying in instead of going out.”
“Yes. You were confused?”
“Just a bit. I wasn’t sure if I’d missed some sort of weird seven-week anniversary or something.” She laughed gently.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Didn’t want to show my ignorance of the dating rules.”
Gina chuckled. “Idiot.”
“Yeah.” Gina felt Kate’s lips against her forehead. “But I’m your idiot.”
“Lucky me.”
“Nah. I’m the lucky one.” Kate covered her mouth with a tender kiss and threaded her fingers into Gina’s hair.
Tenderness quickly gave way to passion and Gina found herself pressed against the kitchen counter.
“How long will tea be? I’m starving.”
Sammy’s voice was like a bucket of cold water as they jumped apart. Both breathing heavily, both heavy-lidded with lust. Bloody kid. “About half an hour,” Gina said and reached over to put the oven on to warm.
“I’m dying,” Sammy whined.
“You’ll live.”
“Can I watch cartoons?”
“Yeah,” Kate said. “You know how to work the remote, kiddo.” She reached into the bags and started to help Gina unpack. “We’ll talk about it more later.”
Gina nodded and unwrapped a frozen lasagne, before sticking it in the oven. Gina was distracted and let Sammy and Kate carry the conversation throughout dinner. Who the hell would send her fifty yellow roses? Why yellow? It had to have some significance. She reached for her phone and quickly opened her web browser. Her search was fast and the results came up just as fast. Shit. She gulped down a glass of water. Kate looked at her with a frown. She shook her head. “Later.”
Kate read Sammy a story while Gina paced back and forth in the living room. Before long Sammy was snoring like the freight train that Gina was used to, and Kate was back with her.
“What?”
Gina held out her phone to show Kate the page she’d found.
“The yellow rose given as a gift signifies friendship and new beginnings.”
“Friendship’s good.”
“I haven’t made any new friends. I told you, I’m the village pariah. They won’t even talk to me, never mind shell out God knows how much on a bunch of flowers like this.”
“So who do you think it’s from? You’re pacing, you look terrified. What do you think this is all about?”
“Could this be Ally sending some sort of sick message?”
Kate frowned. “She’s in prison, Gina.”
“So? I’ve seen enough documentaries on prisons to know they can get all sorts of stuff in there.”
“And you think Ally Robbins has got a phone in there and sent you a couple of hundred pounds worth of flowers just to fuck with you?”
“Can you think of a better explanation?”
Kate sighed. “No.” She ran a hand over her face and pulled Gina into her arms. “I’ll call the prison tomorrow and speak to the warden. Get them to toss Ally’s cell and make sure she doesn’t have a phone stashed.”
“Thank you.”
Kate took another big sigh. “Okay, now for my surprise.”
“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“Well, I don’t really know. That’s kind of up to you.”
“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”
“You have to promise to hear me out before you react. And then, whatever you want, that’s fine. Okay?”
“I really don’t like the sound of that.”
“Please?”
Gina swallowed hard and bit her lip. “Fine.”
“I saw your mum again today.”
Gina stiffened. “Well, you said she was a part of the investigation you’re doing so…” She shrugged.
“Yes. And she came in to give a statement, but then she asked to speak to me. We went for coffee.”
Gina could feel her face shifting to a scowl. “You had coffee with my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she said she needed to talk to me. And that it was about you.”
“She doesn’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know that, and so does she.”
“So what did she want to talk about?”
“Seeing you.”
“Fuck off.” Gina pushed Kate’s arms away from her and returned to pacing the room.
“You promised you’d let me explain.”
Gina stopped and stared at her. “Fine. Explain.”
“Your dad’s in prison for beating her up. They’re separated, and she’d like to speak to you. She wants to explain why things ended up the way they did all those years ago. I think she wants a chance to get to know you and Sammy, and to make up for those mistakes.”
“And you told her I’d speak to her?” she asked incredulously.
“No. I told her she was speaking to the wrong person. I told her that she needed to talk to you if she wanted to ask forgiveness. So I gave her the phone number at the campsite.”
“You did what? Why would you do that? Why would you give her my contact details without speaking to me first?”
“The details of the campsite are easy to get hold of. She could actually have got them without me giving them to her. But I did it for a reason. Well, a couple actually.”
“They better be good ones, Brannon.”
Kate smiled.
“What are you grinning at?”
“You’ve never called me Brannon like that before.”
“And I won’t again if you don’t get on with this.”
“Okay, firstly, I gave her those details so she wouldn’t go fishing for your home stuff. I know she’d be able to get it by asking around. It’s a small community. Giving her that info keeps yours and Sammy’s personal stuff, well, personal, unless you decide otherwise. Not someone else.”
Gina thought about it for a moment. “Okay, I’ll agree that’s a halfway decent reason.”
“Thank you. Secondly, I told her that I’d tell you I gave her the information.”
“So if she doesn’t call, then we all know she isn’t serious about it.”
“Yes.”
“I guess this is why you’re the detective. Any more?”
“Yes, but this one’s more a personal one for me than a good one to you.”
“I don’t…oh.” Realisation hit Gina in her stomach. It felt heavy and dull, like an ache that would never go away. Just like she imagined it must feel for Kate. “Your own mum.”
Kate nodded. “I know it’s totally different. Totally. But I’d give anything to have a chance to talk to my mum. I know Alison hurt you. But I think she had her reasons, and I think half of those were to protect you. It might not be good enough, Gina. But I don’t think it could hurt you more to know than it has harmed you guessing all these years.” She swiped at a tear before it fell. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to give you a chance to know her, I guess.”
Gina wrapped her arms around Kate’s waist and leaned into her. “I get it.”
“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” Kate’s arms wrapped around her back.
; “Probably.”
“Phew.” She pulled back a little and kissed Gina’s lips gently. “I don’t like it when you’re angry at me.” She kissed her again. “Even though you are really cute when you are.”
“Not helping your cause any, Brannon.” She puckered her lips as Kate chuckled and kissed her once more. Softly, gently exploring with her tongue. Her hands slid up and down Gina’s spine, along the nape of her neck, and into the fine hairs at the base of her skull. God, that felt so good.
The shrill ring of Kate’s phone tugged her out of the sweet sensation as she pulled away to answer it.
“Brannon.” She gazed at Gina with hooded eyes and mouthed “sorry” as she listened. “You’re joking?” She stood up straighter and Gina could see her switch from Kate, her girlfriend, to Kate, the cop, in a split second. “No, of course you wouldn’t.” She patted her pockets, and fished out her keys. “Okay, cheers. Bye.” She ended the call and grimaced at Gina. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, Kate. I know you’re on a big case.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“Seriously, it’s fine.” She reached for Kate’s hand and squeezed her fingers. “I’ll go get Sammy—”
“No. Stay.” She threaded her fingers with Gina’s. “There’s really no need to wake Sammy up just to drive back to your house and try and get her back to sleep. You know where everything is. Help yourself. I don’t know how late I’ll be, but I really like the thought of you being here when I come home.”
Gina gazed at her. This was the Kate she was falling for. The sweet, wonderful Kate that spoke from the heart.
“Please.” She reached for Gina’s other hand, pulled their bodies together, and touched her forehead to Gina’s.
“You just want me to let Merlin out for you.”
Kate grinned. “That too.”
Gina chuckled. “Fine. Now go to work.”
Kate gave her a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed her coat, phone, keys, and rushed out of the door with a quick bye tossed in Merlin’s direction.
“And for God’s sake, be safe out there,” Gina whispered to the closed door.
CHAPTER 26
“This better be good, Ruth.”
“Why? Did I interrupt a hot date?” Ruth asked with a giggle.
Kate just stared at her.
“Oh shit, I did. How is Miss Temple?”
Kate glared, and Ruth laughed.
“Fine, I can take a hint. Seriously though, I thought you’d want to be here for this.”
“You’re right I do. What do you have?”
“Eighty-three-year-old male. Reginald Barton. Passed away this evening at Brancombe House Nursing home.”
“I saw him.” Kate spoke softly as she leaned over the body.
“When?”
“Couple of days ago. He was being fed but he looked to be completely away with the fairies.”
Ruth nodded. “I’m not surprised. He was on big doses of lorazepam.”
“For?”
“Seizures.”
“And why was he having seizures? Do we know?”
Ruth smiled. “The royal we, Kate? Really?”
“Hey, a girl’s got to do something to get you to open up. It’s like pulling teeth.”
“Fine. He was having seizures because he was in end-stage cancer. He has a tumour in his brain.”
“Poor old sod.”
“Indeed.”
“So we’re…sorry, you’re looking at another dead dying man and nothing more, right?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
Kate looked up. “You’re not?”
“I’m not.” Ruth pointed to the nose and mouth area. “Do you see it?”
Kate looked closer and noticed a slight difference in the colour of the skin.
“Here, let me put the big light on it. You’ll see it more clearly then.” Ruth adjusted the moveable fluorescent lamp over the face of the cadaver and turned it on. “There.”
“Oh my God.”
“Finger marks.”
“Bloody hell.”
“Our poor Reg wasn’t even allowed to go in his own time.”
“Is there any way those marks could have been made by someone giving CPR or anything like that?” Kate asked. “Just so no one can claim that happened.”
“No.” She placed her hand over the marks without touching the skin. “See how the shape of my hand lines up approximately when it’s flat like this?” She shifted her hands to place them as you would to administer CPR. “If someone was giving the kiss of life, then the marks would be here and here.” She indicated then chin and nose. “Not here.” She demonstrated her hand across the mouth again. “Whoever did this had to have large hands though. Definitely a man.”
“Okay.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled Stella.
“Do you know what time it is?” Stella said hoarsely, her voice full of sleep.
“Too early for you to sound like you’ve been slumbering for a hundred years.”
“Funny. Why are you bothering me?”
Kate sniggered. “Because I’m standing in the morgue.”
“I thought you were seeing Gina tonight. I don’t want to hear about your creepy fetishes.”
“Ooh, look who’s woken up her sense of humour. Do you want to know why I’m bothering you or not?”
“Please, continue.”
“Remember I told you that Dr Anderson was going to examine any other residents who passed away from Brancombe House?”
“Yes.” She heard the bed clothes rustle. “You’ve got one already?”
“Yup.”
“Bloody hell. Tell me she found something or Timmons is going to shut this investigation down now we’ve got the embezzler.”
“How does a faint hand print over the victim’s nose and mouth work for you.”
“Bloody hell.”
“You said that already.”
“All right then, smart arse, how does ‘bollocks’ work for you?”
“Much better, thanks.”
“Right, I’ll get the lads out of bed and get them to round up all the staff at Brancombe House and take them to Hunstanton.”
“Just the guys who were on shift tonight. Ruth said the size of the hand print makes our suspect male.”
“Is she willing to change the open verdict on Alan Parr given this finding?”
“Don’t know. How about it, Ruth? Does this make you more inclined towards a suspicious death for Alan Parr?”
Ruth shook her head. “I have no soft tissue to examine. I can’t possibly suggest that our skeleton was murdered based upon the evidence presented. It would never stand up in court even if I did. I’m sorry.”
“But this one you’re certain of?”
“Absolutely.”
“So why didn’t the GP who pronounced death spot it?”
“Well, under normal lighting conditions the marks would be pretty much invisible. The slight discolouration also becomes more pronounced over time as the blood in the body settles and lividity sets in. The bruising here becomes more visible. If you weren’t looking for it, though, you could easily miss it. And when a dying man—”
“Dies, who’s looking for anything more. Right?”
“Right.”
“So, Stella, did you catch that?”
“Yes. I’ll call the boys now and get them to round up the chaps on shift. Not too bright, whoever it was that did this. I mean, we were only there this afternoon. Why do this now? Why take the risk?”
“Don’t know, Stella. I can’t really figure out why you’d want to kill someone who was already dying anyway.”
“Fair point. Meet you at Hunstanton police station?”
“Yup,” Kate said and hung up.
“It’s not a new idea, Kate. There have been a number of killers who have killed the sick and injured.”
“What do you mean?”
“Angel-of-mercy killers.”
“Like Haro
ld Shipman?”
Ruth shook her head and looked disgusted. “No. Shipman killed for gain. Angel-of-mercy killers do it to spare the victim any further suffering.”
Kate pointed to Reginald Barton. “Do you think his last moments were peaceful ones? While some bastard stopped him breathing and watched him die?”
“I didn’t say I agreed with the idea, Kate. Just that they believe it.”
“Sorry. You’re right.” She twisted her neck to crack the vertebrae with a satisfying crunch. “So our killer thinks he’s doing the best thing for the patient. That he’s saving them from pain.”
“Maybe.”
Kate felt it like a vibration in her chest as she realised who the killer was. “Compassionate?”
“Yes.”
“Caring?”
“Definitely.”
“And big, you said?”
“Yes.”
Kate grabbed her phone again. “Stella, find out if Jason Maxwell was on shift on the fifth of December and tonight.”
“I’ll swing by the office on the way to Bramcombe House. You think it’s him?”
“Dr Anderson just gave me a psychological profile of our killer.”
“I did not!” Ruth shouted.
“Well, sort of,” Kate explained.
Stella chuckled. “You can fill me in when you get there. I’ll let Tom know who our target is, but we’ll hold them all until we’ve spoken to them.”
“Good plan. See you there.” She hung up and turned back to Ruth. “Do you think you’d be able to get prints off the body?”
“You’ve been watching too many CSI episodes.” Ruth laughed. “That stuff only works in Hollywood.”
Kate stuck her tongue out. “Fine. Can you get me anything, forensically, that will link our killer to the crime?”
“I’ll start the rest of the post-mortem now and see what I can find. I have to warn you though, whatever I’m likely to find will be fairly easy to explain away as your suspect not only worked where the victim lived, but was one of his carers. All he has to say is he did x, y, or z with Reginald as part of his job, and hair, fibres, even traces of DNA will be useless as evidence.”
“Fair point. But maybe our suspect won’t know that.”
Ruth raised her eyebrow sceptically.
“A girl can hope, Ruth.”
“Don’t pin your case on hope.”
Under Parr Page 25