Detective Amanda Lacey Box Set

by Linda Coles

  “I saw them from my window upstairs,” the woman said. “Playing in the park they were. It was cold, so I went over. There was no one with them. So I said I’d make warm juice if they’d like some. And they did. And then I called the police. I figured they shouldn’t be out on their own.” Her voice croaked with age and something more, something like emotion perhaps.

  PC Daniels put his arm around her and gently guided her to sit in the big chair by the fire. The crochet blanket on the back of it told him the chair was hers. Then she began to weep softly. A siren could be heard in the near distance, then car doors banging outside, so Daniels went out to the front door where more uniforms were arriving. Duncan could hear voices. One of them was Rochelle.

  He turned to his two girls. “I’m just glad you’re both all right. But we need to go home now, so say thank you to the lovely lady for the juice.” He forced a bright smile onto his face.

  “Thank you for the juice,” they both said dutifully, but the old woman had her head in her hands and was crying gently. Rochelle walked in at that moment and took the situation in. Duncan guessed that Daniels had briefly filled her in. She nodded at Duncan, indicating that he was to leave and she’d look after the woman and take some further notes. Together, he and his girls left the warm comfort of the lounge and headed out to his car. The cold, wet air suddenly didn’t seem so wet on his skin as he opened the rear door, helped them both in and fastened their seatbelts.

  Even though he was happy to have them both back safely, he knew that he now had to deal with Sam.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Driving the short distance home with the girls safely strapped into their seats behind him, Duncan’ thoughts tossed around his head like a tumble drier. Relief had flooded his system when he’d seen his daughters’ pink little faces, that his babies were indeed safe and well after their adventure, that nothing sinister had happened to them. He knew full well that, with two children still missing and a predator out there, that his situation could have turned into something devastatingly heart-wrenching. He gave silent thanks as he drove, raising his eyes for a moment to the sky as he did so.

  Now he had to decide what to do about Sam, though: be thankful or be angry? The only thing he felt right at this moment was thankful, but he knew when he saw her face his emotions would flash over to anger at her incompetence, her laziness, her sloppiness. To have allowed such a thing to happen in the first place was inconceivable. She had one job, and one job only while she was unemployed – to look after the children and the house – and it seemed she couldn’t even manage that. Honestly, lying in bed and oversleeping until 9 a.m.? What had possessed her to do such a thing, on a school day particularly? She wasn’t ill, so why? Why?

  It was true their relationship hadn’t been good in some time. They’d both changed over the last year or so. He had been working some difficult cases and staying away late, and then Sam had lost her job and been staying around the house most of the day. She’d appeared to enjoy the time initially, but things had gradually tumbled into disarray, and look where they were now. Yes, he still cared for her, but did he feel anything more towards her? he wondered. Did he still fancy her, find her attractive? He knew the answer was no. They hadn’t been close in many months; neither of them had wanted to make the move, and neither wanted to risk the rejection.

  As he turned into Clumber Road, Sam was stood out on the front path, still dressed in her pyjamas. Her friend Anika was by her side, arm draped around Sam’s shoulders for support, he assumed. Sam rushed forward as he pulled up, arms wide, wailing loudly. Victoria was already opening her door.

  “Thank God you’re both safe! Where have you been?” Sam buried her face into Victoria’s hair and, as Jasmine came around the car, grabbed her too and pulled them both close. Noisy, gulping sobs came from her mouth.

  At last Sam stood, and Duncan ushered the small group back inside towards privacy. He turned to Anika.

  “Thanks for taking care of her,” he said, and she nodded her understanding.

  No longer needed, Anika called to Sam that she’d call later and left, though whether Sam heard her or not, who could tell? She didn’t respond. Once Anika had left, Duncan closed the door behind them and headed into the lounge where Sam was now taking the girls’ coats off. Her face was red from crying, her eyes swollen; she looked terrible. Duncan stood for a moment and didn’t say a thing; he just looked at her. When had she last washed her hair? he wondered. That was old dirt and grease, meaning Sam had missed more than just today’s shower. And why wasn’t she dressed? Had she gone back to bed after she’d called him? Surely not.

  She looked up at him and caught his eye, gave him a weak smile that he tried hard to return. Tears were starting to well in her eyes again, threatening to spill over. He stepped over to her and pulled her in close for a hug. Her face was hot against his cheek as she sobbed again, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Automatically he brushed her head with his hand to soothe her as she tried to tell him that she was sorry. He’d loved Sam once, even if he wasn’t sure he did now. They had a history, a family together, but as he held her close waiting for the tears to stop, the ball of disappointment sat heavy in his gut. Finally, she pulled away a little.

  “Here,” he said, handing her his handkerchief. He caught the strong smell of old sweat and tried not to wrinkle his nose. Instead, he stepped away and began to turn towards the kitchen – away from her.

  “I’ll make some tea. Why don’t you go and have a shower, get dressed and we can talk? I’m not going back to the station just yet.”

  Sam’s face morphed into a mask of hatred so suddenly that he stepped back.

  “You’re going back to work!? Really? What a wanker!” she screamed.

  Duncan stood stock still, aghast. Her face was a deep purple, her lips drawn back in a snarl. Sam looked nothing the woman he’d married.

  She carried on, filling Duncan’s surprised silence. “Have you no time for your own children, Duncan? Because perhaps if you did, they wouldn’t have gone walkabout this morning, now, would they!” Sam picked up a mug from the coffee table and threw it across the room. Brown liquid splashed up the wallpaper as shards of china dropped to the carpet. Duncan watched, mesmerized, as cold tea ran in rivulets towards the floor. He couldn’t quite believe his eyes or his ears.

  Sam was blaming him for the girls’ disappearance.

  He finally found his voice.

  “I don’t fucking believe you’re putting the blame on me! You were the one looking after them. You were the one that lay in bed oversleeping. You were the one with the responsibility of keeping them safe! You, Sam, you! You have one job! One job! And you can’t even manage that,” he screamed at her. He could feel that his face was almost as red as hers.

  But Sam was in the mood for a fight and wasn’t about to back down. With crazy in her eyes, she screamed back at him. “They’re not always my fucking responsibility. They’re yours too, though you’d never know – you’re never fucking here!”

  Duncan opened his mouth to respond and was horrified to hear the sound of a child crying. Oh God. Victoria and Jasmine were still in the room. His heart in his mouth, Duncan went over to them and bent down, clasping them both in his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam looking on.

  “I’m sorry for arguing,” he said, ashamed. “You aren’t meant to hear us shouting. That’s wrong of us.” As calmly as he could, Duncan suggested they both go upstairs and play for a while until their mummy and daddy had finished talking. And as a special treat for being good girls, they could choose what they ate for dinner later. He and Sam watched as the girls left the room, and then Duncan turned back to Sam. At least the girls had taken the wind out of her sails for the time being; she no longer resembled something possessed.

  “I work Sam, to feed this family. That’s my job. Your job is to look after this family while I’m not around. When you get a job, that role is split between the both of us, with probably some outside help like
other families manage. But since you don’t have a job, you’re it. Can I make it any plainer? Do you get that?”

  “Oh, I get it, all right. I’m at fault again,” she said snidely.

  “In this instance, yes, you are. While you were lying in bed, they,” he pointed up towards the girls’ bedrooms, “they managed to get out and walk to the park. With a suspected child abductor running loose, I might add. So yes, it was your fault. What were you thinking?”

  “Fuck off,” Sam shot back as she turned and headed up the stairs. Duncan heard the slamming of their bedroom door above and rolled his tired eyes at the ceiling. He flopped into a nearby chair to think. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. Something had to change. Sam had to change. When she’d calmed down, he’d talk to her again and spell out their future together.

  If they had one.

  Chapter Thirty

  It was over an hour later when Sam finally made it back down the stairs, though she still hadn’t cleaned herself up. In her absence, Duncan had picked up the smashed mug and wiped the wall down, and generally tidied the room up while the girls quietly watched cartoons on TV. The depressing rain had finally stopped and a weak sunshine was trying its best to warm the front room. At least it was brightening, if not heating. Duncan stayed put on the sofa. His shoulders sagged wearily with the weight of the day. He waited for her to speak.

  “I thought you’d have gone by now, back to work.” She sauntered over to the vacant chair and slumped down on it, gathering her feet up beneath her, not really looking his way. He could see her face was still red and blotchy from the tears, but he had stopped feeling sorry for her. He let her comment go without rebuff.

  “You were sleeping, I assumed, so I couldn’t leave them.” His voice was steady and even, with no amplification. Just the facts.

  “Well, I’m up now, so why don’t you go? I’m sure you’ve plenty to be doing.”

  Duncan watched her as she pretended to be watching cartoons, looking anywhere rather than at him. “I’ll perhaps go in later. But now you’re up, I want to talk to you properly, without either of us shouting.”

  “Oh? You think we can manage that, do you?”

  The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Duncan, but he ignored it. When she saw he wasn’t going to rise to her malice, she visibly lowered her shoulders. Duncan turned to the girls. “Why don’t you play upstairs for a while? Then we can go for pizza if you like.”

  “Yeah!” they cheered, then stood and headed to their rooms. Duncan shouted after them, “I’ll call you when it’s time to go, okay?”

  “Okay, Dad,” they replied. Like two peas in a pod, two coffee beans in a jar. He smiled, despite himself. When they were finally out of earshot, Duncan leaned forward on the sofa, head lowered, hands hanging in front of him. He’d spent some time, while Sam had been upstairs, thinking through what he wanted to say, and the best way to say it. Now, his practiced words had gone astray, and he searched his head for some clear space. It was full of missing children it seemed, though not his two anymore.

  “Sam,” he began. “We can’t go on like this. Today has been a disaster, a worrying, emotionally draining disaster. We both know that, and I’m not about to point the finger at you again. Let’s put it down to a bad experience, and one we’d both rather forget, I’m sure.” He looked up at her from under his brows. She was listening. He carried on. “But things have to change, and soon. Things between us haven’t been that great for some time now, since you lost your job probably, and I feel for you, really I do.”

  Sam scoffed, “Oh, great. Thanks very much. Here we go again.”

  “But that’s when things changed, Sam, like it or not. And I’m not prepared to go on as we have been. Either you clean your act up and sort yourself out, or I’m out of here. I mean it, Sam.” He was looking straight at her now, wondering what effect his words would have on her. There was no easy way to say he really wanted to leave, didn’t like what she’d become, so he’d stuck with the basics – for now.

  But true to form, that was more than enough to set her off again.

  “I don’t fucking believe it! You’re threatening to leave me and the kids because I lost my job? Are you that fucking mean?”

  “That’s not what I said and you know it. I said things hadn’t been good since then but yes, if things don’t change, yes, I’m considering leaving.”

  He watched as she leapt up from her spot and paced over to the window, then turned and faced him full on. Her eyes flamed with rage and spittle flew from her lips. So much venom, so much anger; she really did look like a woman possessed. Again.

  “Well, if you’re that unhappy, why don’t you fuck off now, eh? You’re never around much anyway, so you may as well leave us. I’m sure one of the girls at work would let you stay on her sofa.” She paused and gave him an evil smile. “Or her bed. I’m sure Rochelle wouldn’t kick you out in a hurry.”

  Duncan felt himself grow pale. Sure, he found Rochelle attractive; most men did. But he’d never done anything behind Sam’s back, ever. His family was precious to him and he’d scowled at other colleagues for playing away from home. It wasn’t right.

  “Ah, come on, you know there’s never been anything going on there, or with anyone from work, or anyone else, full stop, actually.” He was starting to lose his cool, aware his voice was escalating in pitch and volume again. He didn’t want the girls to overhear his words but he wanted to respond, needed to.

  “And you know that deep down. Sam, this is about us. You’ve got to clean your act up, get some help from someone, get your life back. All I see every time I come home is you in your nightclothes. You don’t look like you’ve even had a shower for a couple of days, and your anger has skyrocketed. Whatever I say, you fly into a rage so quickly, it’s frightening. What the hell has got in to you?” He took a breath and then carried on, momentum pushing him to complete what he had to say. “If things haven’t changed in one month’s time, I’m leaving. That gives you time to sort yourself out and at least be applying for a new job. After that, if there’s no change, I’m taking the girls with me and we’re leaving.” Duncan bowed his head.

  Barely audible, Sam confirmed, “One month. Then you’re taking the girls.”

  “Yes. And I’m deadly serious. We will leave.”

  Wordlessly, Sam turned on her heel and ran back upstairs to the bedroom. Duncan heard the door slam once again and hung his head in despair. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sam was angry and upset all at the same time. In the privacy of the bedroom, she alternated between pacing with clenched fists and a screwed-up, furious face and sobbing in desperation, tears streaming down her cheeks. She was drained. Drained of energy and drained of feeling, though not for her children. Tired of pacing, Sam lay on the bed and buried her face in the pillow where she screamed out her frustration in short bursts, safe in the knowledge no one could hear her.

  When the tears finally stopped, she stayed face down, eyes closed, waiting for the world to go away. What she wouldn’t do for some help right now, a little something to knock her out, something to numb her, if only for a couple of hours, but she had nothing left. The side pocket of her handbag was empty again. If she hadn’t taken her last six that morning, she’d have had something to take the edge off now, but they were gone. She couldn’t leave the house, she knew, so there was no way to get what she desperately needed, not yet anyway. No, she’d have to wait and slip out later when he’d gone to work. Maybe Anika would keep an eye on the girls for ten while she went. Yes, that’s what she’d do – drive out later tonight.

  Safe in the knowledge she’d get some relief later, she turned over and stared up at the ceiling in the growing dusk. Winter days were so short; sometimes the sun never reached full brightness before fading away again in the late afternoon. Soon, the street lamps would come on again, giving her unlit room an eerie yellow-orange glow. In her head, she went over what Duncan had said. How could he have been so
mean, show so little understanding of what she was going through? And now he’d given her an ultimatum – get sorted or he was leaving and taking Victoria and Jasmine with him. That was the part that stung the most: the thought of losing the girls, not having them by her side each day, not taking them to school and picking them up again, not going for burgers with them. It would be soul-destroying.

  No, she needed to figure this out – get a job and get back into Duncan’s good books, show him she could change, that he could love her, be attracted to her again, that they’d both be all right, that they could be a proper functioning family again. And soon. Sam sat up on the bed with new energy, a new motivation, swung her legs over the edge and headed towards the bedroom door. She opened it quietly and stood listening for voices or movement, unsure how long she’d been lying on the bed. Maybe Duncan and the girls had gone out for pizza without her. Was she all alone?

  She tiptoed across the landing towards the bathroom. Victoria’s door was wide open, the room empty, as was Jasmine’s. Maybe they were all downstairs. In the bathroom, she wiped her blotchy face and stood for a moment gazing at the woman who stared back from the mirror. Her mousy hair was greasy and lank, as Duncan had so eloquently pointed out earlier, her nightclothes faded and worn – she looked hideous. And she stank.

  She padded out of the bathroom and quietly headed downstairs, hoping none of the boards would creak, holding her breath until she got to the bottom. There were no lights under doors, no flickering blue light of a TV screen, no sounds of any kind. She put her ear to the lounge door and heard nothing. She turned the handle and peered inside.

  The room was indeed empty – they had all gone out. She was alone.

  Sam let out a deep breath. “Thank fuck for that,” she said to the empty room, as she turned a lamp on in the corner. The clock on the wall said it was coming up to 4:30. It would be dark in a few minutes. She leaned towards the window to see if Duncan’s car was parked out the front or on the drive – both spaces were empty.