The older sergeant’s face softened. ‘And then someone else died, right?’
She nodded.
‘I hope someone told you it wasn’t your fault,’ he said.
‘That doesn’t make it any better.’
‘No, but it does give you a reason to get upstairs and get back to work, doesn’t it? They’re not going to catch the real killer without you. All hands on deck, and all that.’
Kay forced a smile and patted her fist against the door frame. ‘Speaking of which, I should get going.’
‘Before you do, I overheard Higgins saying that you were worrying about your training for the charity run with everything else going on.’
‘Just a bit.’ She sighed. ‘I said to him yesterday that I went out for a run on my own the other night, and there was hardly anyone else around. I don’t see myself using that app any time soon, either.’
‘You should do what my wife does – she belongs to a running group on social media. They arrange to go out in pairs, especially at the moment. If they do prefer to run alone then they post their route and what time they expect to be back so if they don’t check in on their return, someone can raise the alarm for them.’ He smiled. ‘Of course, it’s not all serious – they post their progress as well, best times, things like that. Sophie enjoys it because it keeps her motivated, and it keeps me happy because someone always knows where she is.’
He reached out for a piece of paper and scrawled across it. ‘This is the group. All you do is send them a request to join and someone will approve it. I’ll tell Sophie to keep a look out for you if you like.’
‘Thanks, Maurice – appreciate it. I’ll take a look later.’
Kay hurried up the stairs and into the incident room, switching on her computer while she shrugged her arms out of her coat before hanging it over the back of her chair.
A general hubbub of noise filled the space, and despite the paranoia seeping through her thoughts none of her colleagues had seized upon the chance to tease her about her error the night before.
Instead, grim faces peered at computer screens while phones rang, and urgent conversations swept over her as she worked her way through her emails and the tasks that were delegated to her through the Home Office Large Major Enquiry System.
It was going to be a busy day.
Chapter Thirteen
‘I got you cheese and tomato – that all right?’
Kay looked up from her computer screen at the sound of DC Christie’s voice, and stifled a yawn.
‘Brilliant, thanks, Rich.’
He handed her the wrapped sandwich then pulled across a spare chair, the casters rattling over a protective rubber mat placed under the desk by the previous occupant.
‘How’re you doing?’
'All right,' she said between mouthfuls. She swallowed, then pointed at the screen. 'I've cross-referenced the gyms again, but our third victim – Alicia Martin – hadn't been to the gym she belonged to in over four months.'
‘Any idea why?’
‘The owner there said it’s common – people join up in the New Year and get all excited about a new routine before they start to drift away. He reckons memberships like that cover his overheads for six months.’
Christie grimaced. ‘I think the bloke who owns my local gym would say the same thing.’
Kay reached into her tray and pulled out a folder full of witness statements. 'I've been reading through the statements uniform took last night, too. None of the property owners along that stretch of footpath heard anything or saw anything suspicious. If it wasn't for that dog-walker…'
‘Alicia might’ve lain there all night before she was discovered.’ Christie pushed his chair back and rose, straightening his jacket. ‘Good work, anyway.’
‘Rich?’ Kay scrunched up the empty sandwich wrapper in her hand and took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday. I screwed up.’
‘No, you didn’t. It was a valid lead, and it needed to be actioned. You did the right thing in the circumstances. Ashe wasn’t exactly acting rationally by approaching you in the park, either so…’
‘But Alicia––’
'Would've died anyway. We had nothing to suggest she was going to be the next victim – or any other suspects.' He gave the chair a shove, sending it to a shuddering standstill under the neighbouring desk. 'What would you have done in Sharp's shoes if someone had come to you with the same information?'
Kay exhaled. ‘Acted on it.’
‘There you go, then.’ He winked. ‘Don’t stay too late tonight. We need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed back here in the morning.’
Chapter Fourteen
Despite Christie’s advice, the incident room was almost deserted by the time Kay looked at the time on her computer screen and realised it was seven o’clock.
Beyond the windows, a light fog smudged the orange glow from sodium streetlights and somewhere within the building, a vacuum cleaner hummed as the cleaners worked.
‘Night, Kay.’ Higgins held up his hand as he walked towards the door, a black backpack slung over one shoulder.
‘Night.’
She scrolled the mouse over the screen, closing different apps and windows, and wondered whether to find somewhere to have dinner in town before heading home or order a takeaway.
She groaned. A takeaway two nights in a row, and her race on Saturday would suffer.
Unless she went for a run before heading home – she kept a spare pair of trainers and clothes in her locker downstairs.
Decision made, she reached out to turn off her computer and then froze.
The piece of paper Maurice handed to her that morning was tucked under her desk phone, the name of the social media group stark under the harsh office lighting.
Kay glanced over her shoulder.
The incident room was empty now, Higgins being the only one who had stayed behind so he could enter the last of the phone enquiries received that afternoon into the HOLMES database.
Her eyes fell on the calendar next to her computer screen.
The charity run was only three days away, and Alicia’s murder had taken place within three days of Laura’s.
There had been a week between Laura’s murder and the first.
Were the murders getting closer together because the race date was drawing near?
Was someone else going to die tonight?
Heart racing, she hurried over to the whiteboard at the far end of the room, swearing under her breath as her leg struck the corner of a colleague’s desk in her haste to reach it.
Rubbing her thigh, she ran her eyes over the map, the pins denoting where the victims were found, and the red marker pen lines that Sharp had added to highlight the area where the killer appeared to be operating.
It was a few miles in diameter, but it would do.
Kay returned to her desk, threw herself into her chair and pulled her keyboard towards her.
She clicked on the internet browser on her screen, logged in to the social media site, and searched for running groups in the town.
Maurice’s wife’s group was one of the top results, but Kay avoided that.
She needed to find one whose members ran in the same area where the three victims were found, and she needed to act fast.
Kay scrolled through the list of four groups, clicking on each and then discarding the link when she found the group’s members lived outside of the killer’s circle.
She found the group she sought on her fifth attempt and sent a request to join.
It didn’t take long.
A notification appeared in the top left of the screen within seconds.
Kay took a deep breath, then picked up her mobile phone and found Sharp’s number.
It went straight to voicemail.
‘Dammit.’
She tapped the phone against her chin for a moment, then dialled DC Christie’s number.
Engaged.
Kay drummed her fingers on the desk.
Of course
, they could be talking to each other – catching up before the morning's briefing. Or both of them could be talking to someone else.
She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and squared her shoulders.
This couldn’t wait.
She clicked on a space on the social media group's main page to add a new post and introduced herself as someone new to the area – easy enough to do, as she was rarely on the site and her personal profile was set to private.
Going out for a run tonight – been too scared to lately but if I don’t, I won’t be ready for Saturday’s race, she began.
She added the route she planned to take, then sat back and read through the words.
A predatory smile twitched at her lips.
I reckon if I train tonight and rest tomorrow, I’ll easily be in the top three to finish – maybe I’ll even win! she typed, and for good measure added a grinning emoji.
‘That should work, you bastard.’
Chapter Fifteen
Kay rested her foot on a concrete bollard blocking vehicle access into the park and re-laced her shoes.
It gave her a chance to scan her surroundings, although the thickening fog meant she could only see a hundred metres in each direction.
The car park was deserted save for her own vehicle, a new clutch fitted and her bank account five hundred pounds lighter.
In the distance, she heard a solitary truck engine as its driver changed gear to counteract the steep climb up the hill past the park, the sound muffled by the fog.
Her breath misted as she took a gulp of air, exhaling to try to release some of the stress clutching at her limbs as she took in the muted outlines of trees lining the footpath, ghostly silhouettes against the streetlights overhead that struggled to pierce the gloom.
‘Okay, Hunter,’ she muttered, zipping up her car keys and mobile phone within her sweatshirt pockets. ‘Enough stalling.’
She set herself an easy pace to begin with, the route clear in her mind.
The footpath made for smooth progress and when she glanced over her shoulder she was shocked to find she could no longer see her car.
Ahead, the path curved around to the left and away from the back gardens that bordered the park.
For the next half a mile, she would be alone.
She increased her stride, her leg muscles warming up and easing into the familiar training routine.
Any other time, she knew she would enjoy the chance to discover a new route but paranoia was already beginning to set in.
Should she have waited and tried again to phone Sharp and Christie?
Should she have posted the challenge to the killer in the first place?
She slowed to a walk, then stopped as the realisation hit her that she had no idea what she was going to do when or if she did confront the killer.
‘Kay.’
She froze, peering into the gloom, her heart pounding. ‘Who’s there?’
A figure loomed out from the fog, moving closer from behind the abandoned swing set to her left and advancing towards her.
Kay took a step back, her mouth falling open at the sight of the familiar face.
‘Amber? What’re you doing here?’
Chapter Sixteen
‘More to the point, Hunter – why are you here?’
The trainee crime scene technician stepped closer, then shrugged open her waterproof running jacket and pulled out a baseball bat.
Kay’s eyes widened, and she held up her hands. ‘I fancied a run after work, that’s all. You?’
‘You’re a liar, Hunter.’ Amber flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘Thought you’d try to catch a killer on your own, did you?’
Kay moved to the side and looked left and right but there was no-one else there.
No-one to save her.
She cursed at her own stupidity.
If she tried to scream, no-one would hear her.
The thick fog would deafen the sound, mask her cries for help.
‘I can explain, Amber.’
‘Go on, then.’
‘I just wanted to try to stop anyone else getting hurt. I thought if I could––’
‘Set a trap? Catch a killer on your own?’ Amber cocked her head to one side. ‘Did you really think you were that good?’
‘How did you know I’d be here?’
‘That’s my running group,’ the woman hissed. ‘Mine.’
Kay let out a shaking laugh. ‘My God, that’s it, isn’t it? That’s how you’ve been picking out your victims. Anyone who posts a better time than you, and you kill them.’ She frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Because I can.’ Amber swung the baseball bat against a rhododendron bush, sending leaves flying over the footpath. ‘Because I like it. Because it stops anyone from beating me to the finish line.’
‘You’re sick,’ said Kay, unable to keep the disgust from her voice.
Amber laughed and took another swipe at the plant.
‘You need to get help,’ said Kay. ‘I can help you. We’ll go to Sharp together…’
‘No.’ Amber spun around to face her, her eyes wild. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
Kay took a step back and held up her hands, her mouth dry as she realised she’d miscalculated.
There would be no negotiation.
No making Amber see sense.
No way out.
The woman leapt forward, and Kay felt a dull ache against the side of her head as she turned to run.
She stumbled, scraping her hands on the stony ground as she fell, crying out as her ankle twisted.
‘You had to be better, didn’t you?’ Amber sneered, swinging the baseball bat from side to side. ‘You couldn’t help yourself, rubbing it in everyone’s face that you were going to do so well this weekend, and poking around instead of minding your own business.’
Kay shuffled backwards, her elbows digging into the soft turf while her ankles tried to find purchase.
A darkness flashed across Amber’s face then and she snarled, raising the baseball bat above her head.
‘I’m better than you,’ she spat. ‘And now I always will be.’
Kay screamed and raised her arm as the bat swung down, then gasped as a shadow shot out from the fog and tackled Amber to the ground.
The baseball bat clattered to the footpath.
Kay pushed herself to her feet and bit back a cry as a jolt of pain shot through her leg.
Amber was shrieking as she punched and kicked at her assailant – but he was too strong for her.
He flipped her onto her stomach, then pinned her down with his knees and peered over his shoulder to where Kay stood, her mouth open in surprise.
‘Hunter, for chrissakes,’ he gasped. ‘Handcuffs – back pocket.’
‘Sarge?’
Chapter Seventeen
Kay winced as Higgins patted a cotton wool ball soaked in antiseptic lotion against the cuts on her face, then held up her hand to stop him as a familiar figure appeared at the open door to the observation room.
Hugh Hughes had aged since she’d last seen him, the crime scene investigator’s face a sickly grey as he eyed the bruises forming on her arms.
‘Kay, I’m so sorry – I had no idea. I––’
‘None of us did, Hugh. It’s okay.’
His shoulders slumped. ‘Even so. There’ll be an enquiry.’
‘You weren’t to blame for any of this. Have you spoken with Sharp?’
‘Yes – he’s just finished taking my formal statement. I’m about to head home, and then I expect I’ll be asked to attend a professional hearing at some point.’
‘She fooled us all, didn’t she?’
‘None more so than me, Kay. Sharp thinks she got a kick out of carrying out her victims’ own crime scene investigations and trying to outsmart us.’ He shivered. ‘She’s been working here for eight months. God knows how many more she’s killed.’
‘She’ll be put away for a long time,’ said Kay. ‘We’ll make sur
e of that.’
He gave her a sad smile. ‘Look after yourself.’
Higgins turned to her as the pathologist left, his eyes wide. ‘Bloody hell. Can’t imagine what he’s going through at the moment.’
‘I know.’ Kay yelped as he applied more antiseptic to a scratch above her eyebrow. ‘And stop that – you’re enjoying it too much.’
Chapter Eighteen
‘Kay?’
She turned at the sound of Sharp’s voice to see him hurrying down the stairs towards her.
‘Sarge?’
He led her away from the front desk. ‘Let’s talk outside.’
Kay frowned, but fell into step beside him.
‘Amber has confessed to the three murders,’ he said. ‘We found the victims’ mobile phones in her locker. She deleted the posts they wrote in her social media group after she targeted them.’
Kay swallowed. ‘Jesus, Sarge.’
He said nothing further as they headed out of the front door.
When they reached the kerb, he waited until two uniformed constables had passed, then turned to her.
‘Don’t ever take a risk like that again, Kay.’
‘I tried to phone you, Sarge. And Richard. Both of your phones were engaged.’
‘You should’ve waited.’
‘I’m sorry, Sarge, but I was worried if I did, we’d miss the opportunity and he’d kill again.’
‘He very nearly did. If it wasn’t for the fact my wife Rebecca follows the same social media group that you posted in and told me what you wrote in there––’
Kay blinked, the realisation smacking her in the chest.
‘I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a taxi for you,’ Sharp said. ‘It’s late, and I don’t want you travelling on public transport. Not with a twisted ankle, and not after what you’ve been through tonight. I’ll have someone fetch your car for you and bring it back here.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
He nodded, then scuffed the toe of his shoe against the bottom step, his hands in his pockets.
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