Bad Moon Rising (#1 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  She dropped into one of the chairs as if being on her feet was simply too much effort.

  “When Sarah died,” she continued, “you didn’t seem to care about how it affected anyone else. I know you did care, but you shut me out. Your bloody job took over your life completely. You left me. Not physically, but mentally, emotionally, you left me to fend for myself. Katy, too. You have... had... such a great relationship with her, but you didn’t deserve it. I was the one that was always there for her, but she didn’t want me, she wanted you. Now look where that’s left her.”

  “Lydia, I-”

  “No, Paolo, let me finish. I need to get this out without losing my temper, or getting overemotional. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he said and sat opposite her.

  “I loved you, Paolo. I loved everything about you. Had done since the day we met. But then Sarah died and you changed; you wouldn’t let me in. Katy loved you, too. I expect she still does. If that woman can help her come back to us then we’ll find out. But you’re toxic, Paolo, did you know that? Really toxic. People who love you get hurt.”

  She stood up, staring down at him with an emotion he couldn’t figure out. It almost looked like pity.

  “For Katy’s sake, when we’re with her I’ll laugh, talk, carry on as if you haven’t killed one daughter and turned another into a vegetable, but don’t imagine for one moment that I don’t despise you, because I do and I always will.”

  She walked to the door, opened it and left without looking back.

  ***

  Paolo arrived back at the station still feeling as though his heart had been ripped out. He made straight for his office and closed the door, locking it. He couldn’t face talking to anyone right now. He reached up and pulled the blinds down, then turned and rested against the door. How the hell was he going to carry on working as a cop, feeling as he did?

  Sarah dead – his fault. Katy catatonic – his fault. Lydia struggling to cope – his fault.

  He slid down until he reached the floor and sat without moving, his back against the door. Maybe he should resign, just get out of the force and find something else to do. Something that wouldn’t put his loved ones in danger.

  He had no idea how long he sat in the dark, but eventually an ache in his spine told him that whatever he did with his life, sitting on a cold floor wasn’t going to improve matters. He shook his head. Maybe he should look around for a different career, but until he found one, he had this job to do, so he’d better get on with it.

  Forcing himself to his feet and ignoring the protests in his knees, he flipped the blinds open and unlocked the door.

  Five minutes later it opened and Dave came in.

  “Did you know that Azzopardi is off the critical list?”

  Paolo nodded. “I heard a whisper, yes. Apparently he’s not expected to make a full recovery though. Why do you ask?”

  Dave sat down. “Because, sir, the word on the street is that someone else has already picked up the reins and is now running the business. You’ll never guess who it’s supposed to be.”

  Paolo smiled. “I can see from your face that it’s not going to be obvious, so go on, shock me.”

  Dave leaned forward. “Oh, I think I’m going to do that, sir. It’s Maria.”

  For the first time in weeks, Paolo felt genuine amusement and laughed. “Maria? She wouldn’t say boo to a goose, how the hell is she intending to control Paolo’s men? You must have that wrong.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought, sir, so I’ve been asking around. It seems that gentle Maria has turned into Iron Maiden Maria. One or two who tried to get in her way have found out that she’s not afraid to deal out pain – and not just by proxy.”

  “Bloody hell, that’s all we need. At least half of Azzopardi’s crew will revolt. One or more of his cousins will try to take over. With a bit of luck they’ll wipe each other out. I just hope to God they don’t do it on our streets.” He sighed. “Oh well, that’s a problem for the future and I’ll worry about it when it happens. This will be the first weekend in my new flat and I don’t intend to spoil it by giving any thinking time to Azzopardi and his successors.”

  “You all settled in now, sir?”

  “Only one box left to unpack. It’s still a bit of a mess, but at least it no longer looks like a parcel delivery depot. What are your plans for the weekend, Dave?”

  “You know me, sir. I don’t make plans. I’ll find myself a bird or two tonight and have a good time. Love ‘em and leave ‘em, that’s me.”

  “Dave,” Paolo said, trying not to laugh, “you don’t do any such thing and you bloody well know it. You’re head over heels in love, but don’t want to admit it, least of all to yourself.”

  Dave shuffled on the chair. “I am not.”

  “Yes, you are. It shows in your face every time you look at Rebecca. For Christ’s sake, give her a call and explain to her that you’re a pillock. Ask her to give you another chance. Believe me, letting someone go when you really care about them is stupid.” Lydia’s face flashed into his mind. “I’ve done it and now I’m having to live with the consequences.”

  “But, sir, it’s not, she’s not ... I don’t know if she even likes me.”

  Paolo smiled to take the sting out of his next words. “She might like you more if you stop pretending to be something you’re not. Go on, go away and call her. I can’t take the chance on you going all morbid and getting plastered again. The next time you fall down the stairs you might do more than graze your back. You’re an idiot much of the time, but a good copper; and I need you around the place.”

  THE END

  Thanks for reading this Crooked {Cat} book. If you enjoyed it, why not leave a review on Amazon and recommend it to your friends?

  Have a look at our other titles:

  http://www.crookedcatpublishing.com