A/N: I have not forgotten nor given up on this story, guys. I know it's been a while *cough* three months *cough*, but at least it's not seven years later...
See what I did there :)
Published: 19/03/2016
-CHAPTER 4-
...TWO BRUISES...
"Watts!" the tall detective barked.
"What!?" The shorter one barked back.
"Have you checked the CCTV from Foxglove Road in Sandbrook yet?" Hardy moaned from his office, his accent thick with caffeine and impatience.
The Weymouth police station had thick clay brick walls, making it impossible to hear anyone from the next room. Hardy waited in irritation for his DS to answer. It was only Watts and Hardy in the office at this time of the night, so Hardy didn't have to pretend to be in a good mood.
"Well!?" He shouted, tapping his feet on the legs of his office chair.
"I checked them all, sir. The Toyota defiantly wasn't in Foxglove road on night of the sixth of November."
Hardy popped out his office to Watt's desk.
"This would be so much easier if we had the number plate, hey?"
"Out-dated CCTV, I tell you, it will be the end of me."
"It took the off-ramp on the A35, which means it had to take Foxglove or Burton. Or it went around town and turned by that roundabout."
"God." Watts sighed. It was like tracking a fucking U.F.O. They both stared at Watt's screen, until the camping of heels came parading in.
"The Toyota wasn't on the A35 entering Sandbrook, or in Burton road."
She placed a large pink mug on her desk opposite Watts and swung her handbag on top of Watt's desk. Hardy sent a questioning stare to Watts and he replied with a half-angry half-confused shrug. Neither of them knew what the woman was doing here.
"I would have checked the roads in Bridport as well," DS O'Brien said, "but you boys never forwarded the videos to me."
Watts put two fingers to his head and pretended to summit suicide behind O'Brien's back. It would have been funny if Hardy wasn't in such a bad mood.
"Melissa, with all respect, will you please leave." Watts muttered, "You are not part of this investigation."
"What is it, Andy? Do you think you and Hardy are going to gang up against me again?" O'Brien, rolled her eyes, "Silly, silly, you two are. This case is the biggest thing that's hit Weymouth since the Walditch murder in 2016, which I remind you I solved and you didn't."
Watt's face dropped. Since Hardy met Watts he had a strong dislike from DS Melissa O'Brien, and Hardy fully understood it. She was a young, manipulative detective on a killer career path. She wanted to be a DI at Weymouth police station since she joined the force, and she didn't care who she took down along the way.
"I want to be part of Alice Brooke's case, whether you and Hardy allow it or not."
"I am right here, you know." Hardy growled.
"Of course you are, Alec! I am sorry to hear about your um- injury." O'Brien gave an annoying monotones giggle, "Some copper from Broadchurch told me about your collision with their DI. "
Hardy felt self conscious about his blue chin once again. Watt's eyes narrowed.
"But I want you to hear this too, Alec. I spoke to CS Smith and he said it is fine if I join you two on Alice Brooke's case."
Watts chuckled and gave her a sour look. "Ridiculous."
This woman stuck her fingers in every pie that came past her. Persuading or - more likely bribing - Chief Superintendent Smith… Hardy's first idea was to fight her, but he knew better than that. He would have to remain neutral, taking Watt's side would seem unfair toward O'Brien, and taking O'Brien's side – well there was no way Hardy was picking O'Brien's side. Besides, more hands meant a faster way to solve the case.
"Fine," Hardy said at last, watching a satisfied simper appear on the woman's face. "You can interfere with my case as much as you please, but I will not tolerate your bitching around. This is an investigation, DS O'Brien, Watts. I will not allow you to start having childish bickers every day." Hardy instructed, feeling strange for ordering at Watts.
"Yes, Sir." O'Brien said.
Watts nodded grumpily.
"Right." Hardy said. "Here's the CCTV from Devon and Bridport." Hardy placed a memory stick on the edge where Watts and O'Brien's tables met.
"I have already checked most of Bridport's, but none of Devon's. If you two can check the other half CCTV for tomorrow." Hardy said.
"Yes, sir."
"Yeah, Hardy."
He grabbing his coat and walking out the door.
"Good luck with the bruise!" O'Brien shouted when he walked out. He could hear the bickering start as soon as turned out the corridor.
Ellie had to do a lot of explaining to everyone about where she got her lovely purple bruise from.
Beth thought she's fell off of somewhere, like she fell off that ladder while she and Tom were still repainting the house.
Lucy obviously assumed the very worst. She jumped to the conclusion that her little sister had had wild sexing a cheap one night stand, and that the bruise was a hickey. Ellie had to remind her sister about how she actually didn't enjoy sex to a certain extent, and that she was single for a reason.
"Whatever you want me to believe, El." she replied with a wink and a nudge.
Fred thought that his mum had gotten into a police fight.
"No, I ran into someone, Fred."
"And punched them in the ribs as you backflipped-"
"What movies has Olly been showing you?" Ellie sighed. It was barley achievable to get a little boy to grow up without violent movies today, but even harder so to do it with someone like Olly around.
"Nothing, mum. Olly only lends me his PlayStation games." Fred said. "I only like Disney films." Fred smiled, fooling no one.
"Have you finished your homework?"
Ellie didn't even have to ask, by the looks of Fred avoidance of eye contact and sudden interest of the fridge magnets.
Ellie shook her head. "It's okay. We'll eat first. Fish and chips?"
As he shuffled through the threshold to his apartment, Hardy was immediately attacked by Murphy, the three-legged pug.
"Urg!" he groaned, cursing at the creature. Gill had snuck into his apartment again to watch TV.
"You're home! Took long enough." said Gill. The TV was loudly on some reality show.
"I'm going to take back my key, Gill." Hardy warned, switching off the screen immediately. He was tiered of finding her on his couch nearly every night.
"Bad day, eh?" Gill asked, stroking Murphy.
According to Daisy, Murphy the pug was the main reason Gill was divorced. She loved that thing even more than she loved AnimalPlanet documentaries and interfering with other people's business.
"Yes, Alec did have a bad day, yes he did, Murphs." she spoke to the dog, kissing it's swollen lips, making Hardy cringe in disgust.
"I cooked for you, Alec."
"What horrors have you created this time?"
"It is called Moussaka." Gill said.
"Mou-what-a?"
"It's basically like aubergine lasagne." Gill explained, "Instead of pasta there's layers of aubergine."
Hardy pulled a face. Aubergine instead of pastry.
"Daisy sent the recipe, because 'Dad, you have to stop eating so much carbs'."
"Brilliant."
"What happened to your face?"
Hardy shrugged, turning away from her. "It's a long story."
"Don't it's a long story me. It looks sore."
Before Hardy knew what was happening, Gill's fingers moved over his chin, tickling his late night stubble. Hardy could not help but think of how two seconds ago those fingers had been on Murphy's arse.
"Gerroff!" Hardy hissed. Murphy started barking as his cell phone rang.
With a warning glance in Gill's direction, Hardy answered the phone.
"Yes?" he growled.
"It's me." Miller said.
"What do you want?"
Across the line, Miller rolled her eyes, thinking how rude the phone made this man even ruder.
"I sent the CCTV to you." She said.
"Oh." Hardy spooked off into his bedroom, away from Gill's curious ears. " 'Kay, thanks."
"It doesn't seem like anything is going on in the videos, I've checked most of them. It makes me think the rapist took an alternative route via farm roads."
"Okay."
"Are you busy doing something else? You seem distracted."
" 'M not." Hardy said, pushing Murphy off his bed with one hand. "It makes sense if they didn't use any main roads because my team can't find anything."
"Yes. I've been thinking and I think the best way to find the Hilux is at church. Paul says those bumper stickers were handed out in Easter 2017, which makes whoever is the driver of the Hilux someone who came to St. Andrew's 125th birthday."
"So someone who defiantly lives in Broadchurch?" Hardy said, trying to get rid of Murphy, who started chewing on the cord of Hardy's bedside lamp.
"Or not. A lot of people came to the festival that week. Some blokes from Devon, even some historians from America. but Paul and I both think your best shot at finding the car is to come to the church on Sunday."
"Come to church? Come to Broad-church?"
"Yes. Well I figured only you know what you're looking for, after all." Miller said.
"Miller, I - Murphy - Murphy!"
"Murphy?"
"Sorry it's just –" Hardy stopped the pug from chewing the cable, but pulled the lamp and made it fall on the floor, fluorescent shards scattering the floor.
"What's going on." Ellie asked, hearing repetitive hisses that sounded like shitshitshit.
"Ur - Sunday. I'll come then." Hardy said quickly
"Okay." Ellie said, and then the line went dead.
"Who was that on the line anyway?"
"An old colleague."
"From Glasgow?" Gill mumbled.
"No. She's from Broadchruch." Hardy said simply, and Gill nodded in understanding. She never asked about Broadchurch, which suited him fine.
A part of Hardy was still raw from Danny's death, and all those memories associated with the town. A part of him was ripped out and chucked off those cliffs, never to get back again, and he accepted that. It was easier to move on once you accepted that pre-storm and post-storm you are going to remain two very different people.
But now he was going to have to go back to Broadchurch and for - church?
Hardy was surprised for the invitation, not only did he think he was done with Broadchurch, but also because it sounded like Miller wanted him to come.
2022, the year Miller starts being nice to him, he snorted inwardly at that. This was a bad idea. This was a fucking bad idea. Not only was he sure to screw up social interactions with people from that bloody small town, but he was guaranteed to dig up old wounds that he left buried on those cliffs. Old feelings.
"It's that Ellie-woman, isn't it?" Gill asked.
Even Murphy remained quiet for a moment. "Yes. Miller."
"Relax, Tess told me about her years ago, I haven't been going through your emails or anything." Gill argued. "Are you going to see her again?"
"Yes. I'm driving down to Broadchurch on Sunday."
This really was a fucking terrible idea.