Soul to Take

by Clare Revell

  “Speaking of driving, I hear you put in for your test.”

  She nodded. “I did. Couple of weeks ago.” She turned her attention back to the board. “I’m guessing all the paintings were lost in the fire.”

  “Along with everything else. We still have the postcards and all the photographs of the paintings.”

  “Where are they?”

  “CPS has them.”

  “Can I see them? I’m assuming the original photos are still on the system.”

  “You are off the case. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Her boss sounded annoyed, so she wisely dropped it.

  “OK. Did you cancel my leave at the end of the month?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I cancelled New Wine, so cancelled my leave as well. Is your wife still going?”

  DI Holmes jerked his head in acknowledgement. “Yes. In fact, Dane and I are going as well. All the kids are going to my parents. The estate has enough security to keep them safe, along with enough room and staff to keep them occupied.”

  “Your parents have an estate and security?” Surprise filled her.

  DI Holmes grinned. “My father is an earl. So yeah, plenty of room and security. I’ll cancel your leave now. Did you want to rebook it?”

  “October. Just pick a random week. It’ll be fine. Oh, and while I think to mention it, I have an appointment at four, so I’ll need to leave early.” Her phone rang. “Hello. Isabel York speaking.”

  “Hi, this is Sister Duffin from Bedivere ward at Headley General. Just to let you know that Zander is up on the ward now.”

  “How is he?”

  “His surgery went well. His doctor would like to see you when you come in. Visiting is two ’til five and seven ’til nine.”

  Isabel put a hand over the phone. “Zander is out of surgery. His doctor wants to see me.”

  “Go.”

  “I can be there just after two,” Isabel said into the phone. “Give him my love.”

  “Will do. He’s in a side room with a guard at the door. Stop by the desk when you get here.”

  “Will do. Bye.” Isabel ended the call. “He’s on Bedivere under guard. Presumably still chained to the bed.”

  “He will be.”

  “All the evidence is circumstantial,” she sighed.

  DS Philips tapped on the door. “Sorry to interrupt. Guv, the CPS is on the phone for you.”

  “Thanks. Isabel, drop it. This is no longer your case.” DI Holmes herded her from the room and locked the door behind him.

  Isabel grumped to her desk and flung open the desk drawer to retrieve her handbag. She glared at the in-tray and stabbed a finger at it. “You can wait.”

  “Where are you going?” DS Painter asked.

  “Zander’s doctor wants to see me. Then I have an appointment. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Part-timer,” Austin teased from his desk across the squad room. “Need to make that a cake fine, as well.”

  “You still haven’t eaten all of today’s cakes without me buying any more,” Isabel retorted. “At this rate you’ll need to go on a diet.” Her desk phone rang. Sighing, she snatched it up. “DC York.”

  “Hi, it’s Niamh Harkin from the CPS. I’ve looked at that case you sent over and you’re right. I’m on my way to court now to get the charges against Billy dropped.”

  “Thank you.” Isabel let the modicum of relief fill her briefly. At least one thing was going right. “It’s just a shame we can’t do the same for Zander.”

  “Zander? Ellery?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s up with Zander?”

  “Ummm, this isn’t the best line for that conversation. If I give you my mobile number, can you call me back on that?” She rattled off the number then ended the call. She left the office quickly and was halfway down the stairs before her mobile rang. “Hello.”

  “It’s Niamh. So what’s up with Zander?” Niamh sounded worried.

  “One sec, just need to leave the building. But I’m surprised you haven’t heard. It’s been all over the news and the whole town is rife with gossip.”

  “Jared and I have been away for a couple of weeks in a caravan with no TV or phone reception. It was bliss.”

  Isabel exited the building. “I’m on my way to visit Zander now. He got beaten up in jail this morning. Pretty badly beaten and needed emergency surgery.”

  “He was visiting someone and got assaulted?” Niamh asked.

  “No. He’s been in jail for three weeks.” Isabel paused. “They think he’s the Slayer.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Niamh said, her tone horrified.

  “I know. This is my first day back—they suspended me because I’m his partner. The evidence against him is circumstantial. Most of it was lost in the fire at the nick anyway, but it’s like no one believes he’s innocent apart from me.”

  “Hmmm. What’s the CPS’s take on this?”

  “Search me. I got suspended and, as I said, today is my first day back. I’ve been told case is closed, and I’m off the case, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Bit mean considering I’m the one the Slayer wrote all those lovely letters to.”

  “I’ll look into it, I promise.” Niamh sounded encouraging. “But first I have to get this innocent teenager out of jail.”

  “Thank you.” Isabel put the phone away and jogged to the bus stop, just as the bus arrived. She joined the end of the queue and once she reached the head, put her ticket under the scanner. She found a seat towards the back of the bus and sank into it.

  Was she a fool for thinking the way she did? There had to have been someone on the inside. It was the only way the Slayer could stay one step ahead of them. Unless he really was that clever. Or she was wrong, and it actually was Zander.

  ~*~

  Zander lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He hurt, but he’d stubbornly refused the pain meds the medical staff offered. He needed his mind clear, not addled with drugs. His left wrist remained chained to the bed rail, on the off chance he decided to make a run for it. The ever-present guard sat right outside the door, checking everyone before they came in. No chance of anyone smuggling in a nail file so he could escape. He closed his eyes. When did things get so messed up?

  The door opened. Light footsteps. A floral fragrance.

  “Are you awake?”

  He’d guessed it was her. He opened his eyes. “Yes, Is, I’m awake.”

  Isabel smiled. “The doctor says you’ll be OK. He says you were lucky.”

  Zander snorted. “I don’t do luck. Told him that, as well. He did say I’d be here the best part of a week. Sit.”

  She sat on the bed beside him. “How are you, really?”

  “Rough,” he admitted. “How’s work?”

  “There,” she said. “First day back. Not sure why I missed it to be honest.”

  He gazed at her. “Tarring you with the same brush?” he asked quietly.

  “You could say that.” She ran her fingertips over his arm. “But that isn’t your fault. I did some work on a different file this morning. A goat farmer.”

  He frowned, struggling to follow her train of thought. What did a goat farmer have to do with anything?

  “I also spoke to an old friend of ours a couple of times on the phone. You remember Niamh? She’s married to that incredibly hunky firefighter.”

  The penny dropped. She was talking about Billy. “Yes, I remember her. How is she?”

  “They’ve been away, and it sounds idyllic. No TV, no phone reception. Anyway, it turns out the goat was in the wrong pen, after all, as it was a sheep not a goat. She’s sorting it out and he should be home soon.”

  Relief filled him and he let out a deep breath. “Good. He’s a good kid.”

  “What about you? Feeling rough is a mild headache. Emergency surgery is a bit more than rough. Spill, and I want the truth.”

  “No good at all,” he said bluntly. “Like the doc probably told you, two broken ribs, punctured lung, bit of in
ternal bleeding, but I’ll live to fight another day.”

  “And you’re in for a week?”

  “We’ll see. They want me locked up, so they’ll probably send me back to the prison infirmary.”

  “You’re not safe there,” she said, not hiding her worry.

  He shrugged and grunted in pain. “Nor are you. Did you get a chance to speak to Uncle Gee?”

  Isabel frowned. “Uncle Gee?” Then she must have twigged he meant the Guv as she nodded. “Yes, yes I did. He says hi, and says he’ll try to come and see you.”

  Zander pouted. “He didn’t send his love? That hurts. I thought I was his favourite nephew.”

  “Nah, mate, you’ve been replaced in his affections by Dave the Decorator.”

  It took Zander almost a minute to work out she must mean DS David Painter. “I see. So what have you been up to?”

  “Not much. Three weeks off work. I go back and my in-tray is like this high.” She indicated with a space between her hand and her leg. “I dread to think how many pizza and gym leaflets I have to read. Although to be fair, I will need the gym after all the pizza.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. I have an appointment.”

  He frowned. “Where you going?”

  “Hairdresser. Figured I’d have a grade four and dye it purple.”

  Zander rolled his eyes. “Do you want to keep your job?”

  “Not really.” Isabel tucked her curls behind her ears. She shouldered her bag. “Be good.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  She tilted her head as if she were thinking about the idea. “Nope.” She kissed his cheek. “Got to keep up appearances as they think I’m your girlfriend.”

  He kissed her cheek back. “Don’t get too carried away.”

  She smirked. “So not purple, then?”

  “No.” He bit his bottom lip. “Red, maybe. Or green.”

  “I’ll come back tomorrow and show you. I can text Uncle Gee and get him to pop in tonight if you like.”

  Zander shook his head. “I’m fairly tired still. See you tomorrow, honey.”

  ~*~

  Isabel got to the hairdressers with five minutes to spare. Her phone rang as she opened the door. “Isabel York.”

  “It’s DI Holmes. How is he?”

  She backtracked onto the pavement and filled him in quickly. “So not great, in short. The doctor wants him to stay there for a week. He wants to go back.”

  “We’ll see,” DI Holmes grumped. “Where are you now?”

  “My appointment. I did say.”

  “Yes, you did. I’ll see you in the morning then. Don’t be late.” The phone went dead.

  Isabel shoved it into her bag, determined to ignore it for the next wee while. Heading into the store, she crossed to the desk.

  “Hello, Isabel.” Kyle came over to greet her. She’d forgotten how tall and cute looking he was. His short, spiked hair, sparkling blue eyes, and deep voice were all part of his charm. Of course his talented hairdressing skills also had a lot to do with it. “Perfect timing. Come on over.” He angled his head as his gaze took her in. “Doesn’t look like too much of a disaster to fix. How can I help?”

  “It’s still an emergency,” she said quietly. “It needs to be really short and a different colour. Purple would be good, but the boss won’t like that. Zander suggested red or green. I look too much like the other girls. It’s not safe now.”

  Kyle’s hands froze. “The Slayer? I thought he was locked up.”

  Isabel met his gaze in the mirror. “Maybe, maybe not. All the girls have the same hair as me. I just want a change. So short, really, really short and a different colour.”

  His fingers moved through her hair. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” She pointed to a picture of a model with pale lilac hair on the wall. “How about that colour?”

  Kyle chuckled. “That’s still purple. I could do blonde pretty easily. Or auburn. Red is too similar if you want to go totally different.”

  She weighed up the options. “Blonde.”

  “Sure. And how short are we talking?”

  Isabel watched as he moved her hair to demonstrate different lengths. “I’m guessing a grade two is a little drastic, so how about a pixie cut?”

  He nodded. “I’ll start with a bob, as it’s easier to go shorter. I can’t exactly glue it back on again. Come this way and I’ll wash it first.”

  Two hours later, Isabel gazed at the woman in the mirror. “Wow. I don’t recognise myself.”

  “I thought that was the idea.” Kyle winked.

  “Yeah.” Isabel touched her hair. From one extreme to the other—long, black waves to a blonde pixie cut. She no longer resembled the other victims or the woman in the painting. “Thank you.”

  She rose and followed Kyle to the till. This wouldn’t be cheap, but worth every penny. She tried not to visibly wince as he rang it up to over a hundred quid. As she paid, the phone in her bag rang. She ignored it, typing in her pin. Her stomach churned as her card was declined.

  “The money’s in there,” she said, cheeks burning. “I’ll try again.” But again, her card was declined. Beyond embarrassed, she glanced up at Kyle. “I’m, uh, really sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” he said.

  “I’ll run to the hole in the wall and take the cash out. Give me five minutes.”

  Kyle smiled. He printed off the receipt, giving her a copy. “Just pay me next time you’re passing. It’s not as if you’re leaving town, is it?”

  “OK. If you’re sure.” She slid the receipt into her pocket and left the hairdressers. Her stomach churned and she felt sick. She headed to the bank and tried the cash point. The machine promptly swallowed her card.

  “What? You’re kidding me.” Of course, the bank was closed. She sighed and walked to the bus stop. There was money in the account. Way more than she needed to pay Kyle.

  By her reckoning there should have been fifteen hundred in there, plus more in her savings account, but that card was at home. Not that it made a shred of difference, as now she had no way of accessing it until the bank opened in the morning.

  “Excuse me, you dropped this.” Farrell’s voice sent a shiver down her spine as she turned to face him. He held out her card holder.

  She took it. “Thank you.”

  His eyes widened. “Izzy, I didn’t recognise you.”

  “I fancied a change. Big mistake, though.”

  He frowned. “Don’t you like it?”

  “That isn’t the problem.” She put her card wallet back in her bag. “You can’t be here.”

  “I know.” Farrell’s eyes narrowed. “Is everything all right?”

  “I’ve had better days.” She sighed as her phone rang. “Hello.”

  “Isabel, its DI Holmes. I’m in the layby. Do you want a lift?”

  “Please. I see you.” She hung up and, nodding a farewell to Farrell, she walked quickly to where the Guv’s silver car was parked, indicators flashing. She climbed into the vehicle. “Thank you.”

  “Nice hair. Had to look twice to make sure it was actually you. But when Farrell stopped you and began a conversation, I knew it was you. Is everything all right?”

  “No.” Her voice wavered, and she sucked in a deep breath, biting hard on her trembling lip. “Actually, I want to sit and cry…but not in front of you.”

  DI Holmes turned in his seat to face her. “What’s wrong?”

  “My card got declined. Then when I went to the cash point, it swallowed said card. The bank isn’t open until tomorrow, but I haven’t got any up to date photo ID now I’ve done this to my hair. Which is what I was trying to pay for. I’ve got more than enough in the bank. I don’t understand why it’s done this.”

  “Do you want to borrow some money to pay the hairdresser?”

  “I can’t, sir. It’s Kyle’s salon and he did my hair. It’s over a hundred quid. He said it can wait, but…”

  He smiled. “That’s about what my wife pays for hers every so o
ften. I’ll sort it. Stay here.” He jumped out of the car.

  Isabel pulled down the sun visor, watching him jog back up the road and into the salon. What had she done to deserve friends or a boss like this?

  A few minutes later, he got back into the car. He held out a tenner. “All done. Here and don’t argue. It’ll tide you over until we can get your card sorted in the morning.”

  “Thank you. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

  DI Holmes smiled. “I know you will. We’ll get a new photo ID issued first thing, and then you and I will go to the bank and sort your account out.”

  ~*~

  Zander opened his eyes. The room was dimly lit. Must be late as it was dark outside. And it wasn’t dark until gone ten-thirty most nights. He turned his head, squinting as he caught a glimpse of someone sitting in the corner of the room. “Who’s there?”

  The figure rose and moved towards him.

  Zander still couldn’t make it out. “Who are you?” Then he recognised his senior officer. “Sir…”

  Chief Superintendent Clydesdale put the chair beside the bed. “We need to talk.”

  Zander glanced at the door, but the guard’s shadow had gone.

  The Chief Super leaned forward and spoke quietly. “He’s gone for coffee. I saw Isabel earlier.”

  “So did I.” Zander took a deep, painful breath. “I told her she isn’t safe. None of them are.”

  “I need to know what you do. And I need to know now.”

  “Sir, I—”

  “All of it.” Chief Superintendent Clydesdale interrupted him. “Start with Isabel. You know I have a vested interest there.”

  “We both do,” Zander muttered. As the senior officer quirked a brow, Zander groaned. “Not like that. She’s my partner, nothing more. I need her safe.”

  “And she will be. So long as you talk to me now. Off the record. And without your lawyer.”

  Zander hesitated, not entirely sure that was a good idea. Maybe just tell the bloke what was common knowledge and keep the rest to himself for the time being. Keeping his partner safe had to be his top priority.

  4

  Isabel exited the bus early in the morning. During the twenty-minute journey to work, clouds—yes, honest-to-goodness real clouds—had blotted out the sun. They thickened and darkened as she walked the short distance to the police station.