Avaline Saddlebags

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Avaline Saddlebags Page 23

by Netta Newbound

I felt I was losing a grip on the case. Something had to give, and soon.

  “Anyone fancy a coffee?”

  “I wouldn’t mind one,” Joanna said.

  “Nothing for me,” Will said. “I’m trying to give it up.”

  “Okay, won’t be long.”

  I pulled my phone out, hoping Layla had called and I’d missed it, but nothing. There was a text from Bella, which made me feel slightly more cheery. I’d grab the coffee for Joanna, then take an early lunch, and head around to see Bella and the baby. She was probably lonely now Simon had returned to barracks.

  Bella stepped aside, allowing me in. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  “It’s only been a few days,” I replied, my tone reflecting my mood.

  “Ooh, what’s the matter with you?”

  I walked toward the kitchen. “Make me a coffee and I’ll tell you.”

  “It must be bad.”

  I sat at the table. “I only came around for a moan and to have a cuddle with the baby.”

  “Well moan away, but little Dylan is fast asleep, thank God, and I’d like him to stay that way.”

  “He’s always asleep.”

  “Trust me, he isn’t.” She grinned. “I made a lovely lemon sponge earlier, want a slice?”

  “Yeah, I do, but I won’t.”

  “Come on, it’ll cheer you up.”

  “Cake isn’t going to change my mood, Bells, but if you’re so insistent, shove a few slices in a tub and I’ll pig out tonight once I get home.”

  “No problem.” She carried on making the coffee then sat opposite me.

  I picked up the steaming mug. “Just what I needed.”

  “Come on then, face ache, spit it out. What’s going on?”

  “This bloody case. We’ve got nothing to go on, and the bodies are piling up. It won’t be long before I’m booted off it and they’ll bring in a competent detective.”

  “Piffle! That won’t happen. You know you’re an ace detective and so do they. It’s just unfortunate your first case as DI is a doozy and there’s no evidence to sink your teeth into. That’s not your fault.”

  “I’m not so sure, but as well as this case wrecking my head, Layla is doing her level best to get the sack.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s off sick and hasn’t been calling in.”

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  “Yeah, I called round to her place at the weekend. She looked terrible but promised she’d sort herself out and call me daily until she handed her sick note in.”

  “So, it’s long term then?”

  “Looks like it, but we have a replacement for her–Genevieve Tanner.”

  “Oh, I know her. A right frosty-faced cow she is.”

  I laughed. “Give the girl a chance.”

  “I know, I know. Just saying is all.”

  “You’re such a bitch, but I miss you. I can’t wait until you get back from maternity leave.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Sorry,” I gasped, as I rushed over to Steve already seated at the table. “Rush hour traffic was a nightmare.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I ordered just like you said.”

  “Good, I’m starving.”

  “Haven’t you eaten anything today?”

  “I called round to see Bells for lunch but decided not to have the cake she tried to tempt me with.”

  “You’re mad, I would have had it.”

  “I need to watch what I eat. You won’t want me if I turn into a lard arse.”

  “That’s true,” he said with a straight face.

  “Cheek!” I laughed.

  Just then, the waiter arrived. The food smelled delicious, but the starter, vegetable spring rolls, was gone too soon. I practically inhaled them. I was thankful for the large main course that arrived soon after. I spooned boiled rice onto my plate then mixed it in with the curry sauce, using the Naan bread to mop it up.

  We made total pigs of ourselves, but it was good to spend some quality time together. Steve really was one of the sweetest guys I’d ever met, and I could see a future for us and looked forward to our dirty weekend away. I hadn’t mentioned it yet due to the case but would surprise him once it was booked. I’d decided I would take him to Sitges in Spain. I’d been there once before, many years ago, and I’d always wanted to go back. It would be the perfect place for us to be alone.

  After dinner, I dropped Steve off at my house and told him I wouldn’t be long.

  Against my better judgement, I had tried to call Layla, but as I suspected, she ignored me.

  It was dark by the time I drove into her close, and rain had started to fall. My windscreen wipers squeaked against the glass.

  Pulling up just before I reached Layla’s place, I noticed all the house lights on. At least she hadn’t gone to bed. I cut the car’s engine and was just about to get out but stopped as I noticed a woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair, lower herself into a red Audi TT convertible that was parked across the road.

  I saw Layla on the doorstep. I’d never seen her look so angry and wondered if this was the other woman, the one that had destroyed her marriage? “Piss off and don’t come back, or you’ll be hearing from my solicitor, do you understand me?”

  She slammed the door and the hallway light went out.

  I caught a quick glimpse of the driver as the Audi slowly passed by. Then, I climbed out of my car and walked up the path to Layla’s house. I knew it was a bad time, but I was here now, and we had urgent matters to discuss. What harm could my visiting her do? I knocked.

  She peeked from behind the living room curtain, then I heard her shout up the stairs, warning the kids to stay in their bedrooms. Moments later, she almost pulled the door off its hinges. “How long have you been there?” she snapped.

  “Only just arrived,” I lied, not wanting to embarrass her by admitting I’d seen the woman leave. “Why?”

  “You’d better come in.”

  I stepped inside. “Thanks, I’m sorry to call unannounced but…”

  “Do you want a drink?”

  “No, I’m good. It’s just a quick visit to ask why you haven’t been in touch like you promised.”

  “I didn’t think it was worth it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I got a letter from HR yesterday and they want to see me anyway.”

  “So you just thought you’d make things worse for yourself?”

  “Look, Dylan, if you’ve come around here just to have a go, don’t bother–”

  “I haven’t. I just don’t want whatever is going on in your private life to affect your job, and, let’s face it, you’re already at that stage.”

  “I’m gonna lose my job anyway, so I might as well get used to it.”

  “Have you been to see your doctor yet?”

  “No, I should have gone today, but I couldn’t face going out.”

  “Can’t you get them to do a house call?”

  She laughed. “When did you last see a GP? They don’t do house calls.”

  “Even if you explained…”

  “It doesn’t happen, Dylan.”

  “Then you have to go to them, I can come with you. Where’s your surgery?”

  “Greenfield Road—just around the corner.”

  “Then I’ll come and pick you up tomorrow. I’ll take you myself then bring you home.”

  “Why are you doing this, Dylan?”

  “Because you’re my friend, and I care.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I’ve lost everything.”

  “No, you haven’t. You can turn this around.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I know so.” My eyes were drawn to a family portrait of her, Max and the kids, hanging on the wall above the fireplace.

  They were a good-looking family. I couldn’t begin to imagine why he would do what he had to the people he was meant to love more than anything in the world. “I’m sorry this has happened to you, Layla. I know it doe
sn’t seem like it now but, one day, you’ll be happy again.”

  She dissolved into floods of tears and my heart broke for her. I wanted to give her a hug, show her I was there for her, but she didn’t want to be touched and kept me at arm’s length.

  Silently, I cursed Max for treating her so horribly and hoped the time would come when he would be forced to sit and think about his actions and the havoc they had wreaked on Layla’s life.

  She eventually stopped crying and rubbed at her eyes. “I will go to the doctor’s tomorrow, but you don’t need to take me. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Thanks though. I do appreciate it, Dylan. And I promise I’ll sort my shit out.”

  Knowing how mentally fragile she was, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.

  Thirty-Nine

  Exhausted, I climbed into bed beside Steve, who was already out for the count and snoring gently.

  Even though I shouldn’t, I felt a little guilty again. Something I promised myself I wouldn’t do.

  Steve didn’t complain or give any indication he was pissed off with me. The guilt was born from a combination of a heavy workload and a history of needy and jealous exes.

  When I’d told him I had to stay up and read through the case file, he didn’t seem to mind. He just kissed the top of my head and toddled off upstairs to bed. I hadn’t intended to stay up so late, but something was niggling at me and I couldn’t put my finger on what.

  Snuggling in to him, I felt contented and secure. A nice feeling I wasn’t used to.

  As I drifted off, images of the dead girls filled my mind—no doubt brought on by my choice of bedtime reading. I still couldn’t shake the huge sense of loss I felt for Kimberley, a girl I didn’t really know but, as Avaline, I’d developed a connection with her and liked her—a lot.

  Her death made me doubt my ability as a detective. It didn’t bode well for me if I couldn’t protect someone under my very nose like that. While I was parading about the stage making a complete fool of myself, poor Kimberley was having her head staved in. This knowledge made me shudder.

  Then there was Layla. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was heading for some sort of breakdown—screaming from the doorstep like some fishwife. And who the hell was that woman anyway? She’d certainly seemed familiar. It wasn’t her mum, of that I was certain—her mum was short, petite even. She was the complete opposite of Layla who was tall, almost six foot and statuesque. In fact, kickboxing clearly kept her in fine physical shape. I wouldn’t like a kick around the ear-hole from her, put it that way.

  I yawned, more than ready for sleep to take me for a while.

  Steve changed his position and snaked an arm around my middle, holding me tight.

  I smiled in the darkness and felt myself slip away.

  It was out of my reach. I needed to get to it but it was just too far. Shifting my position, I lifted my head, opened one eye and peeked at the clock. 5:49am. I groaned and buried my head underneath the duvet. I’d only had a couple of hours’ sleep, if that. What the hell had woken me?

  I’d been dreaming but what about? I felt I should remember but the more I tried to focus on it the further away the memory seemed to be.

  Something suddenly occurred to me. Was I being stupid? It certainly seemed far-fetched. I was still half-asleep after all.

  Sliding from the bed, I tiptoed downstairs. After locating my phone, I trawled through reams of photographs until I found what I was looking for. The face of the woman I’d seen at Layla’s gazed back at me.

  “Oh, my God!” I gasped. After hurriedly getting dressed, I scribbled a quick note for Steve, and left the house.

  By the time I got to the station I’d convinced myself I was totally wrong and put my wild imagination down to over-stimulating my brain before bed. That would teach me.

  I stared at the incident board—unsure of what the hell I expected to find, but willing myself to see something, anything. We’d still had no joy with the traveller who’d bought the van, even though Will had contacted all the surrounding stations for assistance. If the van was still in the area, it would’ve been found by now, surely.

  It still niggled me about the sex shop and the fact I kept forgetting to ask Will if he’d got any further with it. All that was written beside it on the board was the name of the manager.

  I sat at my desk and googled Damien Robinson, just for something to do. When the page loaded, I gasped, my thoughts in a spin. “What the actual fuck?” I said aloud, in total shock.

  It turned out Robinson’s business partner was none other than Monahan Holdings. Further delving named Maxwell Monahan as the managing director.

  I felt sick to my stomach. I’d hoped and prayed I was barking up the wrong tree, but I clearly wasn’t. I knew in my heart of hearts I was right. But what was I going to do about it?

  I went into one of the side rooms and began writing on the white board fixed to the wall.

  I drew a brainstorming graph—a circle with several lines going off it.

  In the centre I wrote MAX.

  I shook my head again. How could this even be possible?

  From the lines I wrote;

  -Inside knowledge—access to the file?

  -Connection to the transgender community.

  -Access to the prosthetics.

  Layla could’ve left the file lying around at home and Max could’ve read it just like Steve had. But there were still a few things I couldn’t link to Max

  -van??

  -connection to each of the victims?

  -Who had access to the back staircase at Rebecca’s?

  -CCTV–knowledge of camera placement.

  My chest tightened. I could barely breathe. Goosebumps covered my entire body. Was I deluded? I’d need firm evidence before I could mention this to the rest of the team or they’d think I’d lost my marbles, and who knows, I may well have done.

  Rubbing out Max’s name from the centre of the circle I hesitated, then wrote, LAYLA.

  Forty

  By the time Will arrived, I’d compiled a list and got my head around what I was going to do.

  I quickly erased the name from the middle of the circle—not ready to share my thoughts with anyone just yet. I needed to do one final thing first. There would be no point letting the cat out of the bag without something concrete to back up my wild and far-fetched theory.

  “Bloody hell, boss,” Will said. “You startled me then. You’re in early.”

  “I’ve been here hours already.”

  “Why? Has something happened?”

  “Not really. But I am working on a theory.”

  “Can you share?”

  “Soon, just not yet. Wish me luck.” I gathered all my stuff together from the spare desk and crammed it into my satchel.

  Twenty minutes later, I parked my car a little further up the street from Layla’s house. Then, I sat and watched in my rear-view mirror.

  I didn’t have to wait long. Slumping down in my seat, I saw Layla and the three boys pile into her car and drive from the street.

  Once she’d gone, I turned on the car engine and drove onto her driveway.

  Eyeing the house, I was certain nobody was home, but I needed to appear genuine, just in case. I approached the front door and knocked. After waiting a sufficient amount of time, I headed down the side of the house alongside the garage. I stopped and pressed my face up close to the window. It was so dark inside, I couldn’t make anything out. I needed to get inside.

  Around the back of the house, I knocked on the door before trying the handle. No luck. Then I froze. A car had pulled up outside the front of the house.

  “Fuck! That was quick,” I muttered rushing back down the side of the house. I took a deep breath and fixed a smile to my face before stepping out front.

  “Oh, hello, Dylan isn’t it?”

  I exhaled as Layla’s mum suddenly appeared in front of me. “Oh, hi, Pixie. I was looking for Layla.”

  “She’s taken t
he boys to school. She shouldn’t be too long. Do you want to come in and wait? I wouldn’t mind a word with you in private, actually.”

  “Of course.” I was willing to agree to anything if it meant I’d have a few minutes to get into that bloody garage.

  She opened the door and ushered me in. “I was just wondering how I could get hold of you, and here you are—seems someone must be looking down on me.”

  “Intriguing.” I smiled as I followed her to the kitchen, quickly scanning the doors off the hallway to work out which of them led to the garage. I deduced the door at the very end had to be it, as the others were all open.

  “I’m worried about my daughter, Dylan. I can call you Dylan, can’t I?” Pixie continued, dragging my attention back to her.

  “Of course you can. What are you worrying about? Is it this business with Max?”

  “She told you?” Her eyes almost shot from her head.

  “Yeah. We don’t just talk about work, you know. I’d like to think we’re friends as well as colleagues.”

  “I’m astounded she would tell you something like this though. But she’s not coping. She told me she made a mistake at work and that she’s in big trouble.”

  “I can’t really discuss it, but there’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

  She began filling the kettle. “Oh that’s a relief. Layla refuses to discuss it. Between you and me, I don’t think she could take much more. Tea or coffee?”

  “I’d love a coffee,” I said. “But do you mind if I use the loo?”

  “Of course, do you know where it is?”

  I nodded and left the room, heading straight for the garage door. I was relieved when it opened.

  It took a second or two for my eyes to adjust. The garage was full of boxes, and two huge objects, both covered with a tarpaulin, stood side by side in each of the parking bays.

  “Did you get lost?” Pixie said, suddenly behind me.

  “I did, I could’ve sworn it was this room.

 

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