Marigolds in October

by Clare Revell

  “Why am I no’ surprised to find you all in here? Gassing aboot DI Jenson, no doubt? You cannae blame the woman for a drunk driver shooting the lights and taking oot an unmarked car. Can you? Now, if we need any more information from Headley Cross, I’ll be the one tae get it. Now get oot o’here and do some work.”

  He strode back to his office and spent the next couple of hours reading case files and trying to compare the two cases—his and the one in London a year previously. He glanced at the clock on the wall and stood. He needed to get this information over to DI Jenson so she could get up to speed overnight. He shoved the files into his briefcase, turned off the desk lamp, and headed out.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled up behind her car next to lodge eleven. He’d made a note of the number when he booked and paid for the month’s rental. He still had yet to claim that back. Or maybe he didn’t. It wasn’t as if he ever spent his savings on anything.

  The lodge was in darkness. He knocked but got no answer. Perhaps she’d popped up to the takeout in the village. He settled back on one of the chairs on the balcony to wait for her return.

  He longed for a smoke, but was trying to quit—trying being the operative word. Instead, he reached into his pocket and brought out the pack of gum the pharmacist suggested he try. Chewing was distinctly unprofessional, but he was off duty and glancing down at his hands, the trembling confirmed his need for nicotine, so gum it was.

  ****

  Milly stood by the base of the bridge, the moonlight shining on the dark water of the River Earn. The torch in her hand shone a narrow band of light at her feet. To her right above her were the lodges. To her left the river, and on the far bank loomed the impressive ridge of Moncreiffe Hill, but to a lowland, city girl like her, they were mountains. She’d come out here to walk and think and pray in an effort to clear her head.

  Mary had popped over earlier to make sure everything was all right. Milly had immediately taken to the woman, something that rarely happened. She had also instantly fallen in love with the village. That too, was something that never happened—especially when she’d been forced to go somewhere against her will. But this place had something about it. She could imagine herself being happy here.

  She sucked in a deep breath, continuing the prayer she’d begun as she left the lodge. So, in a nutshell, Lord, please just give me the patience to do my job without losing it with my new DCI. I’m sure he’s not really that bad-tempered and arrogant. Maybe he just had a rotten day as well. And he probably doesn’t want me in his department any more than I want to be here.

  She leaned against the bridge, gazing at the reflection of the moon on the water. Behind her the goats bleated.

  Am I in the right job? Maybe I need to rethink my career and do something else instead. Like a lollypop lady, a dinner lady, or a cleaner. Please give me strength because You know everywhere I go since the fire, I’m met with opposition and suspicion. The only exception to that has been Nate Holmes. He’ll make a good acting DI. Probably a better one than I ever have.

  She shivered and headed back up the river path. But being here, surrounded by beauty that just shouts Your name, is a blessing I don’t deserve. She reached the entrance to the lodges and cut across the playing area. The lamps were on, shining spots of light onto the grass.

  She slowed as she caught sight of a car parked in front of hers. A lone figure sat on the balcony of her lodge. For an instant she wished she was armed, then decided that she’d blind whoever it was with her torch instead. Raising the torch, she shone the beam directly in the man’s face. “Can I help you?”

  The figure raised a hand to shield his eyes. “DI Jenson, there is no need tae blind me. I’m on your side.”

  Milly sighed. Great, another black mark for her. She could add blinding her boss to her seemingly endless ways of annoying him. “Sorry, sir.” She dropped the torch beam.

  DCI Fraser nodded. “I see you found the place then.”

  “That would be why I have detective in front of my name, sir.” The snide comment was out before she could stop it. She made her way around to where he sat, but he was smiling…just a bit. “What can I do for you?”

  “I came tae check if everything was all right.”

  “Fine, thank you. I was exploring a little. The place is lovely.”

  “Good.” He held out a file. “This is general background for you. This case is big. You’ll need tae get up tae speed fast.”

  She took the folder, his fingers warm against her cold ones. “Thanks. I’ll read it.”

  “You’re cold. You shouldnae stay oot much longer.”

  “I won’t.”

  There was a long awkward pause. She wasn’t about to invite him in and wasn’t sure if he was expecting the invitation or not.

  “Well, I’ll be off then,” he said finally. “See you in the morning. Dinnae be late.”

  “I won’t. Night.” She let herself in and shut the door as the DCI’s car started and pulled away. She flicked on the light and pulled the curtains. Next, she made some tea.

  Milly curled up in a soft chair and read slowly. Her stomach churned as familiar words taunted her. She could have been reading the case from a year ago rather than a new one. She shivered, a bone numbing chill, filling her from the inside out. Voices from the past echoed a memory seared into her brain.

  “Guv, we have to wait.”

  “We don’t have time to wait. He’ll kill her. Go now.”

  The men crouched and tactically entered the building. Then, in slow motion a massive explosion rocked the ground, the blast threw her back as flying shards of glass embedded in her skin. Screams of pain filled the air, then there was nothing but the roar of the flames.

  3

  Milly arrived at the nick at eight-thirty the following morning, determined not to be late. Besides, the nightmares that had plagued her during previous work on this case, had once again kept her awake, so she figured she may as well do something useful. She went to the front desk and rang the bell. As the desk officer approached she held out her pass. “Good morning.”

  “Have you no been shown how it works?” He sked, his voice tinged with amusement.

  Milly looked blankly at him.

  The officer shook his head. “And you need a photo on it, too.”

  “Which I’ll do just as soon as I’m shown where to go. I only started here yesterday.”

  The cop smiled. “You must be DI Jenson.”

  She nodded warily. “I’m afraid so.”

  The cop nodded. “I’m Sgt. Salmon. Put your pass against that box and the door will click.”

  Milly did so and opened the door.

  Salmon looked at her. “That registers you as in the building so you dinnae need tae sign in and oot. Mac, watch the desk while I tak’ the new DI tae get her pass sorted.”

  “Thank you.” Milly followed him through the maze of corridors.

  Fifteen minutes later, with mug shot attached to a permanent pass, she found her way up to the MIU squad room. Silence fell as she entered.

  “Where’s the funeral?” Vickery asked her. His feet were propped on his desk, mug in hand.

  Milly did a double take. “I’m sorry. What funeral?”

  “Your outfit.”

  She glanced down at the black suit jacket and skirt, and white silk blouse she wore. “It’s just work clothes. Which desk is mine?”

  Vickery jerked his head. “You’re in the office at the back. I cleared it oot for you.”

  “Thanks.” She walked the length of the room, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. Someone whistled under their breath and she debated calling them on it, but decided to let it slide this once. Perhaps they’d never seen a woman in a skirt before. She eased into the chair behind the desk, aware of everyone watching her.

  Taking a deep calming breath, she reorganized the top of the desk to suit her.

  The door to the main office flung open. DCI Fraser stood there, a deep scowl on his face and his blue eyes glitter
ing. “What is going on?” he yelled.

  Immediately all the officers swung their feet off the desks to the floor and sat up straight.

  Milly hid her grin behind her hand.

  “I ken you’re all too busy and you havenae time for laundry,” her new boss continued, “but do you all have tae look a mess? The dress code is there for a reason. Put on your ties and jackets.”

  “Guv. We’re inside the office and it’s no like anyone is going tae walk in now, is it?” Vickery tried placating him.

  DCI Fraser’s scowl deepened. “Where’s the DI?”

  Milly rose and went to her office doorway. “I’m here, sir.” His gaze ran over her, making her shudder inside, and she was glad she wore a suit. She smiled slightly. “I didn’t pack a tie, but I can buy one if you wish.”

  “Aye.” Something flashed in his eyes. “Mibbe you should.” His phone rang and he turned to answer it. “Fraser.”

  “Is he always this happy first thing or has he just not had enough coffee yet?” Milly asked.

  “He’s been worse since his uncle was killed in July,” Vickery said.

  “What happened?”

  “Storm surge in Cornwall. His uncle was…”

  DCI Fraser snapped his phone shut. “My uncle was one o’the lighthouse keepers,” he interrupted.

  “Seriously? My friend’s brother was caught up in that.” Milly felt his gaze fall on her the instant before she looked at him. “He’s a fisherman and was in the lighthouse when it fell.”

  He nodded sharply, obviously not wanting to talk about it. “I’m off tae the procurator fiscal…”

  Milly frowned. “The what?”

  “CPS you’d call it. Vickery, bring the DI up to speed.”

  Vickery nodded. “Guv.”

  Milly let out the breath she’d been holding as the DCI left. In her head she already called him Craig, because he looked like one and for some reason she couldn’t think of him as her boss. Perhaps because she knew this assignment was only temporary, or perhaps because…

  Well, if she were being honest, because she saw him as a man, not as a cop. And he was all man. He had a presence about him, an aura almost, and his aftershave preceded him into the room in a good way. She sighed internally. The first bloke for years she’d looked at as a man and there was nothing she could do about it.

  What would it be like to have dinner with him? Pointless even thinking about it, because it was never going to happen.

  Vickery stood. “I have places tae be. See those files there? Read them. Any questions, just write them doon. But I’m sure a smart girl like you can figure things oot withoot her hand being held.”

  The room emptied rapidly, leaving Milly alone. She stuck her hands on her hips. “Well, if that don’t…” She shook her head, gathered up the files and headed back to her office. She kicked the door shut with a foot and dumped the folders on her desk. Settling in her chair, Milly began to read.

  Two hours later, she had a sizable pile of notes to check against the original case. These Scottish plods seemed to be working on the presumption it wasn’t related at all, in which case she didn’t see why she was here.

  But she could see the similarities all too clearly.

  Her stomach rumbled, and she rose, intending to track down the canteen and eat something. She got as far as the DCI’s office. The door was ajar and his voice carried as he spoke into the phone.

  “What I dinnae need is some Sassenach fae sooth swanning in here without you running it by me first. No, they dinnae trust her and with her reputation…”

  Milly turned away, wrapping her arms around her stomach. Did he think that little of her? Did he side with those who thought she was cursed having got several officers killed? She’d paid for her mistake. And would continue to do so for the rest of her career. However short that turned out to be.

  Slowly, she trudged back to her office, no longer hungry. Instead, she pulled a bottle of water from her bag and sipped that as she went back to work. She only glanced up at a knock at the door. “Sir,” she said acknowledging the DCI.

  He nodded to the pile of files. “So, what do you think?”

  Suddenly aware how dark it was, she glanced at her watch. “I think I’ve been here all day, with no food or rosy.”

  He frowned. “Rosy?”

  “Rosy lee. Tea,” she translated. “So, I think it’s time to go home.” Her stomach rumbled to prove her point.

  “You’re not going anywhere until we discuss the case. We’ll have takeout in my office.”

  Milly resisted the urge to sigh. “Sir, I’ve been here all day, on my tod, and I’ve had a gut full of the case.”

  “It’s no up for debate.”

  She stood. “Then I’ll go to the canteen and get—”

  “You’ll do no such thing. I’ll go and get take out. Stay here. Is there anything you cannae eat?”

  “Nuts and beans,” she replied, sinking into her chair in defeat. As he left, her mobile rang and she picked it up. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Milly, it’s Toni.” Her friend sounded worried. “Is everything all right? I’ve tried ringing several times and haven’t gotten an answer.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m up in Scotland and the phone signal is a bit hit and miss depending on the mountains.”

  “Scotland, wow, that’s sudden. You didn’t mention it on Sunday.”

  “It’s a work thing and came up really suddenly. I got like five minutes’ notice and drove up here Tuesday. Anyway, how are you?”

  “We’re fine.” A grin crept into Toni’s voice. “All four of us.”

  Milly beamed. “Congrats, hon. What did you have?”

  “A girl. We called her Livvie Mae. She was born at ten-twenty-two last night and weighed ten pounds six ounces.”

  She winced. “Good grief, woman. That was a section birth I hope.”

  Tori laughed. “Nope. At home, before the midwife and ambulance arrived. The operator was giving Darren instructions, and he and Kaylie delivered her.”

  Milly crossed her legs automatically and scribbled on the paper in front of her to remind her to get a card and present. “Congrats again. How’s Ollie taking it?”

  “He’s worried that Rob will move out now the baby’s here. Not that he and Kaylie have decided where to live yet—they seem content to live in my spare bedrooms for now. She wants to go back to the coast, but he’s happy working for Darren at the moment. So we’ll just have to see how it all pans out. They’ll want to find a place of their own after the wedding next spring, anyway, I imagine.”

  The DCI stuck his head around the door. “Jenson, my office.” He held up two carrier bags.

  Milly nodded. “I gotta go, the boss wants a word.” She stood and hooked her coat over her arm and shouldered her bag.

  “Call me.”

  “I will and you take care. Bye.” She flicked off her light and headed down to the DCI’s office. Craig’s office. You know, Lord, You have an amazing sense of humor. When I said I wanted dinner with him, I didn’t mean working over take away in his office.

  He had cleared his desk and set two paper packages on either side of the desk. He pointed to one. “That’s yours. An’ I hope that call was work related.”

  Milly sat down, tucking her coat over the back of the chair and her bag by her feet. “No, it was a friend. She wanted to tell me she’d had her baby. Ten pound six, normally, no pain relief, and delivered by her husband before the midwife arrived.” She stifled a grin as her boss crossed his legs and winced.

  “I got you fish and chips.”

  “Thank you.” She unwrapped it and took one of the plastic forks. “What is that?”

  “Haggis. Want to try?”

  “No, thank you; I know what haggis is, and there’s a reason some parts of the animal aren’t usually eaten.” She closed her eyes and said grace silently. Then she broke a piece of the fish. “So, why is this case such high priority?”

  “The latest girl to go missing is the Chi
ef Constable’s daughter.”

  Milly’s fork paused, halfway to her mouth. “That’s right, you said.”

  He stabbed his haggis. “That’s the only reason we got this case.”

  “So, Mrs. Tanner is the daughter of…well, that explains a lot.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Aye. There’s other discrepancies.”

  “But it fits the pattern of the previous case.”

  His intense blue eyes swallowed her whole, fixing her in her seat. “Tell me aboot it an’ dinnae leave anything oot.”

  Milly paused. Surely he’d have read the reports and knew everything there was to know. Including the mistakes she’d made that had led to the death of several officers. “That’s a tall request. I’d rather not…”

  “It’s not a request, lassie, it’s an order.”

  4

  Craig held Milly’s gaze and watched her squirm. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t think of her as DI Jenson, but he didn’t. Well, part of him did, the professional part, but the rest of him, couldn’t see past her figure and looks and—didn’t that just make him the shallowest man God had seen fit to place on the surface of this planet? And if it didn’t, then it ought to.

  Milly shifted in her seat, trying to pull her gaze away from his. Why? What was she hiding?

  “You have a problem with following orders?” he asked.

  “No…I—” She broke off and stood.

  “Sit yourself doon.” He raised his voice, speaking sharply. As she sat, he tapped the file on top of his inbox. “Seven women murdered, three officers—four if you include the final hostage, one perp, all dead in the final siege, and it was your case. And everyone thinks it was your fault.”

  She jerked her head. “Yeah,” she whispered. “But we were getting close. He was making mistakes, getting sloppy. We found fibers in the victim’s car. He’d used a blanket to move her. Then he left finger prints at one of the scenes. We had him because his prints were on file. DI Maddox went to the court buildings to get a warrant, but we found her car abandoned on Clapham High Street, with her hair on the front passenger seat. It was as if he knew and was taunting us. He’d been one step ahead all the time.”