At first, when Sam awoke she didn't know where she was. More importantly, something felt different but she couldn't put her finger on it immediately.

Everything was familiar yet strange and she was reluctant to open her eyes. Then whatever her head was using as a pillow shifted slightly and she realised that the unusual sensation was a hand stroking her hair. The confusion gave way to a trill of panic in her stomach as she recalled the events of the last couple of days and realised that she was in her own bed, yes, but that her head was in Sheelagh's lap.

'Don't,' Sheelagh warned abruptly. How she'd known she was awake wasn't something Sam was exactly clear about but it didn't surprise her. That, in turn, brought on another buzz of panic. 'Listen to me,' Sheelagh persisted. 'Don't.'

Sam swallowed. 'Don't what?'

'Think of a way to run,' answered Sheelagh softly. 'I said last night – you're stuck with me.'

Exhaling, she risked opening her eyes. Her room looked the same as it always did, dawn just creeping through the curtains. Except that the duvet was bunched up over a pair of legs that weren't hers and the chequered pyjama bottoms kissing her nose had Sheelagh's scent infused in them. The fact was, she'd never had another person in this bed. Since she and Abi had moved here, the few sexual liaisons she'd allowed herself had been conducted outside the house with absolutely no crossover. The rule hadn't been conscious but it had been comprehensive. Until now, she hadn't wanted someone invading her personal space; however, this was Sheelagh and the rules no longer applied. In fact, the very idea of Sheelagh being in her bed again – with her, this time – made her entire body jitter.

She craned her neck to look up into Sheelagh's face. Just one glance told her that everything they'd discussed last night stood and she struggled hard to fight down the fear that idea conjured up. The reality of living without Sheelagh had been superseded in recent weeks by the possibilities of something else, but nothing had prepared her for this. What happened next petrified her – and that was before she even factored her missing daughter into the equation. Confused, she settled her head back down into its previous position and Sheelagh's fingers went back to caressing her hair.

'What time is it?' Sam asked finally.

'Nearly seven,' Sheelagh replied. 'There's no rush. I'm glad you slept.'

'How about you?' she questioned.

'You had a nightmare,' Sheelagh said after a moment. 'I don't know what it was about but it shook you up. Me too.'

'I don't remember,' she admitted. 'I'm sorry.'

Sheelagh let out a soft snort. 'I don't want you to apologise, I'm happy I was here. You came out of it. You went back to sleep, I just couldn't.'

She bit back the apology forming on her lips. Instead, she rolled away onto her pillow then made sure to look up. It wasn't a rejection, it was a question, and, of course, Sheelagh saw that. A smile drifted across her lips and she slid down further into the bed until their noses were touching. Sam tentatively took her hand and was rewarded by the obvious hitch in Sheelagh's breathing. Whatever metamorphosis she'd undergone since Connor had come out, it was evidently complete. Well, it had to be or Sheelagh wouldn't be here. Last night, she'd made her a promise and, truthfully, it had been a promise that no one else had made. Glenn had lied, negating all his colourful words, and every other man had been a distraction or a bit of fun. There was no one she'd ever wanted to be more until Sheelagh and she couldn't quite believe they were here and everything was out in the open between them.

'I have nightmares pretty regularly,' she said eventually, focusing on Sheelagh's sky blue eyes. 'About Abi getting hurt and you and...Niamh. I suppose it's a peril of the job.'

Sheelagh's arm rested on her waist. 'Maybe because you don't talk about how you're feeling.'

'I've done more of that in the last year than you'd believe,' she retorted. 'I wasn't kidding, what I said about Gina last night. And there was Eva and Jack and Phil. And Tony at the wedding,' she added, 'that was a good one.'

'Tony?' Sheelagh repeated then she smiled. 'I'd better buy him a drink. But I wish you'd been able to talk to me, darling. I've seen how hard you've been on yourself.'

'I was trying to do the right thing, that's all. I suppose I didn't dare think about it too much,' she went on, stroking her cheek. 'I was trying to be a good friend, give you the support you needed. The longer it went on, the more I...'

'I know,' Sheelagh said when she trailed off.

Gazing at her, Sam let out her breath in a rush. She wanted to stay here all day with Sheelagh's arm wrapped around her and the warmth of the blankets cocooning them both. It couldn't be anything else right this minute – and the idea of that terrified her no little amount – but the promise of more was enough. Then the memory of Abi's disappearance filtered back into her mind and Sheelagh must've seen some alteration in her expression. Leaning forward, she captured her lips and Sam's mind momentarily went blank. She automatically shifted and Sheelagh's leg snaked around her body. At that, she groaned, twisting her fingers into Sheelagh's hair then, finally, forcing herself to pull away.

They were both out of breath but they were both smiling. It was entirely inappropriate for day two of a relationship but Sam didn't really care. She was allowing Sheelagh to dictate the pace of this and, luckily enough, it was clipping along far more violently than she could ever have expected. Right now, she felt like a prize idiot. It was as if she'd kept her feelings to herself all this time for no real reason but, then, she was pretty certain that Sheelagh's comments about her burying it away were accurate. There was a good explanation why all this had happened now and she inhaled deeply.

'Remind me to buy Connor a car at some point,' she said.

Sheelagh chuckled. 'Don't you dare.'

'He's a good lad,' Sam replied. 'He deserves it.'

'I can see I'm going to have to keep an eye on you,' said Sheelagh, kissing her again.

'Maybe that's the idea,' Sam returned when they broke apart. Reluctantly, she edged away to the cold side of the bed. 'We need to talk about the case.'

Inclining her head, Sheelagh murmured, 'Downstairs. I need to grab a quick shower then I'm all yours.'

'Well, I'll make breakfast,' Sam answered.

'Food poisoning,' said Sheelagh with a quirk of an eyebrow. 'Brilliant way to start the day.'

Sam swatted her. 'You like my scrambled eggs.'

'You're right,' Sheelagh said, 'I do.'

Holding her gaze for another minute, she slipped out of the bed and Sam felt the rush of ice through her pyjamas. She definitely didn't mistake the self-conscious way Sheelagh left the room and the idea that she was making her blush was completely intoxicating. It lasted until she heard the shower gush then the reality of Abi's disappearance began to seep over her like a damp fog.

She rose and dressed as well as she could without access to the bathroom. The bed she left unmade, wanting to leave the rumpled covers as a reminder to both of them that things had changed irrevocably. Although, she conceded as she descended the stairs, it was far more for her benefit than Sheelagh's. She was struggling with this shift in circumstance and trying not to think beyond today.

As she washed last night's plates and got started on the eggs, she concentrated on Abi. That meant that when Sheelagh came into the kitchen she only half-reacted to how beautiful she looked with tousled hair and apprehension on her face. Sam tried to combat that by moving to kiss her good morning again, as though the conversation in bed hadn't happened. Sheelagh's arm wound around her waist and it turned into quite the lengthy kiss, broken only by the eggs crackling in the corner.

'There goes my good record,' Sam commented as she scraped the blotched eggs onto toast.

They settled at the table, Sheelagh making a good show of eating what was undoubtedly a horrible breakfast. At least hot coffee made up for it and Sam found her mind creaking fully into gear.

'They'll downgrade the investigation today,' she said.

Sheelagh nodded. 'I think so.'

'It'll go to the bottom of the pile,' she continued. 'If Jack flags her as a probable runaway then there's no danger, not that they'll see. They'll run the checks but they won't follow up.'

'I know,' Sheelagh answered, 'but I've got a few ideas about that. We can make sure everything's looked over in as much detail as it should be.'

Sam frowned. 'How do we do that?'

'Well, we don't,' she replied, 'I do. If you trust me, that is.'

'Of course I do,' Sam said sincerely. 'You're the only person I do trust.'

The flicker across Sheelagh's face was a reminder of the last year or so of deceit. Even so, she meant the words. She might not have told Sheelagh how she felt about her but she'd been completely honest in other ways. Everything she'd done – good or bad – had been born out of love. Perhaps Sheelagh suddenly realised that because her expression lightened as she sipped her coffee.

'Look,' Sam continued after a moment, 'I know you're probably right about Abi doing this to prove a point. But it's not sitting right, not completely.'

'The shirt,' Sheelagh said with a knowing smile.

'Am I that predictable?' she queried.

'No,' answered Sheelagh, 'but I know how your mind works, remember? It's a puzzle and you can't stand that.'

'It's not that,' she said then she grimaced at the expression on Sheelagh's face. 'All right, it's not just that. It doesn't fit, that's all. To get that shirt, Abi would've had to go into my room and get it out of my drawer. I haven't worn it for weeks. It can't have been an accident.'

'So maybe it was another message,' Sheelagh said, quite reasonably. 'Another nudge to make the point completely clear.'

'It could be,' she admitted. 'But what if it's more than that? What if someone has taken her and this is a message from them?'

Sheelagh stretched a hand over to hers. 'Then we'll come to that conclusion. Let me look at the evidence first.'

'Evidence,' Sam repeated. 'You're starting to sound like me.'

'I know,' Sheelagh retorted. 'I'm doomed, aren't I? Come on, get ready and we can get going.'

Although she stood, she had to halt by Sheelagh's chair and press a hand to her shoulder. Maybe it was just the need to reassure herself but it rapidly turned into something else as she drew Sheelagh into a lingering kiss. She didn't know if she'd ever get tired of this feeling but she suspected not. Whatever had happened to Abi, she'd been right about one thing – Sam was completely in love and this was the way it was meant to be. There was no other way.

Resting a hand against Sheelagh's cheek, she murmured, 'We do need to talk.'

'I know,' Sheelagh said, meeting her eye. 'Not now.'

She accepted that via another meandering kiss then walked up to the bathroom with Sheelagh's taste clouding her senses. It was as if she was two people at the moment: the mother anxious about her daughter and the woman succumbing to her desire for her best friend.

As she tidied herself up a bit, she couldn't help but think about last night. Sheelagh's insistence on driving her home had been startling in execution, as had been her firm tone once they were inside the house. Of course, she'd known Sheelagh was a force to be reckoned with but her fierce determination not to budge had broken through Sam's defences. Not at first, naturally. At first, she'd been angry and she'd locked herself in the bathroom with the intention of evicting Sheelagh as soon as she went downstairs. But that didn't quite happen. With the water warming through her tired limbs, she suddenly felt weak – vulnerable even. All she truly knew in that moment was the idea of going downstairs and ordering Sheelagh out would leave her hollow and lonely. It hadn't been like all the other times when she'd been uncertain of the lines between them. Last week, they'd nearly kissed. This wasn't one-sided anymore – if it ever had been. The fact was, Sheelagh had accepted the truth and was willing to push the boundaries. That was more than Sam dared to do in a year and, faced with that strength, she couldn't do anything but succumb.

It had taken every ounce of courage she possessed to go downstairs once she'd changed into her pyjamas. She wanted to hide. More than anything, she wanted to hide and pretend that Sheelagh wasn't in her house, but she couldn't do that. So she'd walked down the stairs, unsure of what she was going to do. If she'd found Sheelagh in the living room then things might've gone differently but her eyes had landed on the stereo and she'd had an idea. The CD she'd been listening to all week was in there. It was the only way she thought she might be able to face it, even if her hands were shaking as she skipped to the right track.

She felt Sheelagh arrive in the room behind her; it was innate after all this time. From then on, she just had to let things flow as they did at the wedding, only this time it was far more intimate. Their bodies fit together so naturally and Sheelagh's skin was so soft against her fingertips. Sam caressed her neck and tried to ignore the feeling that they'd been doing this forever. She'd never liked dancing much, never trusting the person she was with not to let her fall, but this was more than a dance – this was something more like surrender.

Partway through the song she'd felt Sheelagh's grip tighten. Maybe it was fear or anxiety, maybe it was something else, but Sam had known that she couldn't leave this all up to her. She'd equivocated in the past because she hadn't known for sure how Sheelagh felt, or she'd told herself she didn't. She'd equivocated then because she hadn't thought Sheelagh could come to terms with their mutual feelings. That had all gone out of the window in the last few weeks as Sheelagh had done nothing less than court her. For the first time in her life, she'd been courted by someone who actually knew her. In the past, it had been all about sex or conquest, on one or both sides. There were secrets in the background or there was a reason, an ulterior motive. With Sheelagh, there were no secrets anymore and the only reason was love. That was all. She had to remind herself of that as she tremulously drew back.

Although she was scared, she knew that she owed it to Sheelagh not to run away. She saw that Sheelagh was apprehensive but she kept them both dancing, gathering strength from the arms around her waist that wouldn't keep her captive but would hold her steady.

From the way that Sheelagh hesitated, she understood that this was down to her. Of course, it had to be. If her failure had caused this mess with Abi and nearly shattered her relationship with Sheelagh several times, then she had to be the one to take this step. Sheelagh, though, didn't leave it all to her. She'd stroked her cheek to reassure her and, looking into her eyes, Sam had felt completely safe and loved. The little smile that flitted across Sheelagh's beautiful lips had drawn her inexorably closer and then...

For a year she'd wondered what Sheelagh's lips might taste like. It had taken up far more of her time than she'd allow and had frequently been the last thing she pondered before she fell into fitful sleep, inevitably to dream along the same lines. This kiss, however, was real and beyond her illusions. Her hopes about Sheelagh reciprocating had always been hazy at best, and she certainly wasn't prepared for her taking control as she did. The sensation had been too overwhelming and Sam had given in completely; she'd had no choice.

When they had to separate for air, she'd forced those three words out. She needed to say them while she still had the courage and to hear Sheelagh say them back had done something indescribable to her. It was only when she raised her eyes again that she understood what had actually happened as she burst into tears. She'd given herself to Sheelagh and clung onto her for dear life, trusting her more than she'd trusted anyone before.

This morning, it was all still vivid. Somehow, she doubted whether the feelings last night had conjured would ever disappear and, more to the point, she didn't want them to. She enjoyed how being loved by Sheelagh – and hearing the words aloud – made her feel and she couldn't backpedal from this, even if she'd wanted to. The feeling was too intense and if, she had to categorise it, she'd call it vital. In eighteen months Sheelagh had turned her life upside down, replacing work in her hierarchy and she'd never thought anybody could do that. However, that brought her back to the fact that the person at the top of her priorities was missing and, odds on, it was her fault.

After taking one more look at herself in the mirror, she decided she'd do and went back downstairs. Sheelagh came out of the living room to greet her, the usual expression of intimate kindness on her face.

'Ready?' she asked.

Sam nodded and moved to collect her bag from its place by the door then remembered she'd left it at work last night and let out a little snort. When she turned back to Sheelagh, she found her gazing at her expectantly. It took a moment for her to realise she was waiting for her to open the door.

'You, erm, confiscated my keys,' Sam pointed out.

Sheelagh stifled her chuckle and extracted them from her pocket. 'So I did. I forgot.'

'Can I be trusted to have them back, do you reckon?' questioned Sam.

Placing them into her hand, Sheelagh met her eye. 'No more running away?'

'Promise,' she answered. 'Maybe I could even drive.'

'You're pushing it now,' Sheelagh said indulgently.

'Oh, you love it really,' she retorted as she unlocked the door and stepped out into the brisk morning breeze. 'Come on.'

The symbolism of slipping behind the seat of her own car to take them both into work was lost on neither of them. Sam glanced sideways as she started the engine, well aware that Sheelagh was still a little anxious about the possibility she might push her away. It was true that she needed to put on a front of steel to get through what was going to be a difficult day but she also knew that the only reason she'd get through it at all would be thanks to the wonderful woman in the passenger seat.

'Listen,' she said abruptly, 'I need to thank you for last night.'

'You don't,' Sheelagh murmured.

'No, I do,' Sam replied. She took her eyes off the road momentarily and nearly got sidetracked by the concern in Sheelagh's face. Forced to look ahead again, she stretched a hand onto her knee to reassure her. 'I need to thank you because that's what you do when someone... You let me cry, you held me while I fell asleep. No one's ever done that for me before. You know, maybe it's just that I haven't let them but...I think it's more than that. It couldn't have been anyone but you, Sheelagh. I do believe that.'

Sheelagh's hand covered her own. 'You did it for me.'

'I want this to be equal,' Sam said, glancing over again. 'I need it to be.'

'It is,' Sheelagh answered simply. 'As far as I'm concerned, it always has been. The only difference is, I've needed your support more than you've needed mine.'

Shaking her head, Sam returned, 'That's not true. The Joanna investigation, all the Abi and Matt stuff... You got me through that. And Weaver,' she added with a wince. 'When I was in that tunnel with him chasing after us, I did a lot of thinking.'

'I know you did,' Sheelagh replied. 'You tried to talk to me that night and I wouldn't let you.'

Sam shot her a look. 'Odds are, I would've bottled it anyway. I wasn't in a fit state to be making any big decisions. Maybe you knew that, deep down, and that's why you stopped me.'

'Could've been,' conceded Sheelagh. 'Or it could've been just complete denial.'

They were approaching a roundabout and she had to reluctantly withdraw her hand from Sheelagh's knee. It was disconcerting how adrift that suddenly made her feel but it was remedied when Sheelagh slipped her hand onto her knee instead. Although she didn't look over again before they pulled into the car park, she knew for certain that this was the only situation she'd ever been in where she'd willingly cede control to someone else. She was right with what she'd said before – there was no other person who could've cracked her shell but Sheelagh. If she was ever going to fall in love, it had to be like this – completely, wholeheartedly.

Switching off the engine, she took Sheelagh's hand and swung her head sideways. 'How do we do this? How do we go in there and pretend nothing's changed?'

'It hasn't really,' said Sheelagh with a shrug. 'Not so as anyone would notice anyway.'

'I feel different,' Sam argued.

'But you're not,' Sheelagh answered firmly. 'Listen, you're impatient, you're blunt and quick-tempered sometimes – more often than not actually. And you can hold a grudge and –'

'This is sounding like a break-up speech,' Sam cut in, checking her watch. 'We've only been together twelve hours.'

Sheelagh chuckled. 'My point is that you're none of that with me. You never have been. You're caring, considerate. Loving,' she added, tilting her head to the side. 'You've always been loving. It's not that you've changed overnight, just that...we've changed overnight. Then again, we haven't,' she went on. 'We've always been like this, haven't we?'

Slowly, Sam nodded. 'Scary, isn't it?'

'A little,' Sheelagh admitted, 'but I'm not scared. Not of us, not really.'

'It's everything else,' Sam said quietly.

Inhaling deeply, Sheelagh replied, 'That's why we can't think about it yet. I want to help you find Abi, that's what we focus on. So walking in there,' she continued, gesturing towards the nick, 'is just like any other day. Nothing's changed.'

When she met her eye, Sam found she had to agree with her. It was hardly an infallible argument but, coming sincerely from Sheelagh's lips, she'd believe it any day of the week. She smiled and tugged the keys out of the ignition then handed them over.

'You keep these,' she said.

'Why?' Sheelagh queried as their fingers brushed.

'Because I don't want to go anywhere without you,' Sam answered briskly. 'That's a pretty permanent thing. Let's get in there, shall we?'

Her sudden brusqueness didn't distract from her words and she spotted Sheelagh's slightly stunned expression out of the corner of her eye as they walked towards the station. Somehow, she liked the feeling of being able to surprise her, yet she knew that she wouldn't have said the words if she didn't mean them. It wasn't just a case of not wanting to do any of this without Sheelagh anymore; she wasn't sure if she physically could manage it without her.

Walking into the station felt strange, no matter what Sheelagh said. Still, it was a different sensation to walking in here after her demotion and she derived strength from knowing something that her colleagues didn't. With a curt nod at Marilyn on the front desk, she swiped through into the downstairs corridor and turned straight in the direction of Gina's office. Although she didn't look over her shoulder once, she knew Sheelagh was there and completely unfazed by her apparently ignorance. They were so aware of each other that it'd be unsettling if she thought about it too much.

Gina's door was ajar but she did her the courtesy of knocking. Urging them inside, Gina immediately rose to shut the door and blinds then spun around to face them.

'You two disappeared off the face of the earth yesterday,' she said. 'Everything all right?'

'What's happening with the investigation?' Sam questioned.

Though she was evidently curious, Gina switched instantly back to professional mode. 'Well, you know the Marine Support Unit called off the search last night and they haven't restarted this morning. The case has been passed to CSU, it's on their books now so I'm afraid it's subject to the same difficulties that we'd encounter with any misper.'

Sam swallowed. It was one thing to know all this was coming but quite another to hear it said so matter-of-factly. Her bravado slipped a little and she glanced over towards Sheelagh who stepped forward immediately.

'What were you planning on doing with me today?' she asked.

'I thought front desk,' Gina said carefully. 'Keep you in the nick.'

'That's brilliant,' Sheelagh replied, 'I'd really appreciate that. You see, I know how under-resourced these cases are. I'd like to help. With your permission,' she added, completely captivating Sam with her combination of deference and determination, 'I'd like to use my downtime on the desk to look through all the information that the investigating officers won't have time to immediately – phone records, emails, financials, that kind of thing. It'd take the investigation forward without detracting from my job or theirs.'

Gina studied them for a couple of seconds then looked to Sam. 'I would've thought this is the kind of thing you'd be itching to do yourself.'

'No,' she said, 'I trust Sheelagh. She can look at this objectively, I can't.'

The inscrutable Gina Gold almost did a double-take before saying to Sheelagh, 'Well, I don't see why not. I'll speak to CSU and the DCI and get the information brought down to you.'

'Thank you,' Sheelagh said.

'Now, listen,' Gina went on after a moment, 'no one else beyond myself, Jack, Jim and Ramani know any details of the investigation right now. The relief are still looking out for Abigail and, as far as they're concerned, the river search was called off for reasons unknown. All right?'

As much as Sam wanted to nod, she found herself frozen. It wasn't exactly that she cared more what her colleagues thought about her than the fact her own daughter was missing but, in Gina's words, was the implication that other people might think she did. That stung, and she didn't realise how badly until Sheelagh settled a hand on her lower back. Then she couldn't help but pivot her body into her arms and allow her strength to seep through into her. Drawing back, and completely disregarding Gina's presence, she pressed a tender kiss to Sheelagh's lips.

Behind them, Gina exhaled. 'Thank God for that.'

Sheelagh let out a soft chuckle and Sam rolled her eyes. It was a bit stupid to be kissing in the middle of the nick like that, she realised, but it did solve the problem of telling Gina she was right without actually telling her she was right.

'If you'll kindly put my constable down,' Gina went on, 'she's got work to be doing.'

Sam straightened her spine. She needed to at least give the illusion to the rest of the nick that she was doing fine, even if Sheelagh knew that to be an outright lie. The smile that Sheelagh shot her before she slipped out of the office betrayed the fact she knew exactly what she was up to. Sam was about to follow before Gina darted forward and closed the door.

'Oi,' she said, 'no, you don't.'

Clearing her throat, Sam crossed her arms. 'What?'

'I'll never doubt her again,' Gina retorted. 'She walked out of here yesterday adamant she wouldn't let you push her away and you turn up this morning...together. What happened?'

'Does it matter?' Sam queried. Then, seeing Gina's expression, she sighed. 'Okay, look, you were right. Is that what you wanna hear? I've been an idiot and she can cope with it. Or at least she thinks she can.'

Gina tilted her head to the side. 'Why do you say that?'

'Because we're in the middle of a mess here,' she replied. 'Neither of us can think beyond it. If we do... Well, it falls apart, doesn't it?'

'You know how much she loves you,' Gina pointed out.

'And I need her, Gina,' Sam admitted. 'I'm frightened by how much I need her right now. Once that's over then we get into everything else, don't we?'

'Which scares you too,' said Gina.

'Yeah, okay, it does. I don't know how we do this,' she returned, repeating her words to Sheelagh of the previous night. 'I'm not cut out for this.'

'For what?' Gina asked reasonably. 'Making her happy? Looking after her? Letting her look after you? Seems you're ticking all the boxes to me.'

'It's not that simple,' she answered.

'It's as simple as you choose to make it,' Gina said with a shrug. 'For God's sake, trust her to know what's going on in her own head.'

Sam sighed and tugged open the door. 'Okay.'

'Out of interest,' Gina pressed before she could escape, 'how did she do it?'

Hesitating in the doorway, she replied, 'She barged her way into the house, confiscated my keys, locked the door and sent me upstairs.'

Gina's howl of laughter followed her along the corridor. The memory of Sheelagh's determination last night even brought a wry smile to Sam's face as she trudged up the staircase. It had definitely been something to behold.

Once in CID, she ignored the curious gazes of her colleagues and threw herself into her outstanding cases pile. There was enough there to keep her occupied and, surprisingly, she managed to distance her mind successfully from Abi. She knew that Sheelagh would be doing exactly what she'd promised downstairs and that settled her mind in a way no one else would understand. So she concentrated on her work and the general petulance of Sun Hill CID until she was forced to pull Debbie away from what looked like a row with Gary to ask her for information about a pimp operating near her address. Debbie identified a potential suspect after looking at some CCTV and Sam was just passing on a few photos when Phil arrived at her elbow.

'I've just spoken to Gina Gold,' he said. 'The Marine Unit are calling off the search for Abi.'

'Yeah,' she muttered. 'I know.'

Returning to the whiteboard she chivvied Debbie with no results then, as Debbie disappeared through the double doors, Phil crossed the room to join her again.

'Sam –' he began but she cut him off.

'Please, not now. Sorry,' she added, moving past him, 'not now.'

After all, it was one thing to open up to Sheelagh but she wasn't going to lay her emotions bare for anyone to get at. She might've trusted Phil a hell of a lot more these days but there was only one person she trusted not to rip the rug out from underneath her. If she needed his help professionally, she'd ask. Until then, she had to keep him at arm's length for her own sanity.

The pimping case turned out to be an interesting one. As if the discovery of a prostitute working out of Debbie's flat whilst minding her son wasn't bad enough, the fact that the woman ended up in custody with a bloodied nose was hardly good policing. Gary seemed to think that Debbie had assaulted the prostitute and he was chuckling about the whole situation with Phil and a group of uniform officers after they'd booked the woman in.

Sam handed the woman over to the FME to check the nose bleed then warned Debbie to stay away, highlighting the fact that she could've broken her nose. Debbie was obviously on edge, having a real go at Gary whilst still insisting she hadn't touched the woman. Phil, naturally, tried to wind her up and it was only a polite word from Sam that got him to stop. She was enjoying this newfound influence over him, even if she still had to pinch herself sometimes that they were actually even on speaking terms.

'I think you'd better go and look after your son,' she said to Debbie when Phil had moved away.

Debbie stormed off into the middle of the custody suite, hands dug into her back pockets. 'I know when to look after my son, thank you very much.'

'Well, you haven't done a very good job so far,' Sam pointed out.

'Excuse me?' Debbie demanded.

She stepped back towards her, almost compelled to have a scrap today. 'I'm sorry, Debbie, but it doesn't look very good, does it? Oh, I didn't know my nanny was a prostitute.'

Snorting, Debbie retorted, 'From the woman with the missing daughter?'

That blow struck home and she suddenly regretted starting this fight. Watching Debbie storm out of CID, her gaze tripped back towards Phil still watching. The pity in his eyes was something she wouldn't stomach, not from him. With a stiff smile, she made her own way along the corridor, steps lagging in case she caught Debbie up.

Instead of turning towards the staircase, though, she found her feet wandering in the direction of the canteen. She bought a coffee then took it through to the back office, halting at Sheelagh's deep level of concentration while sheer chaos reigned on the other side of the desk. Marilyn was dealing with it in her usual loud way but Sheelagh didn't seem aware at all.

The intimacy of placing a hand on Sheelagh's shoulder was probably too much of a risk in itself but she couldn't resist. Most people would've jumped out of their skin but she obviously knew who it was and leaned back into her touch before looking up.

Sam placed the coffee in front of her. 'Thought you might need this.'

'You're psychic,' Sheelagh returned with a smile. 'I was just thinking about dragging myself to the canteen.'

'All part of the service,' Sam replied. 'Anyway, I thought I'd give CID a wide berth for a bit. Did you hear about the prostitute operating out of Debbie's flat?'

Sheelagh made an attempt to swallow down her amusement – with limited success. 'Sorry, sorry.'

'Don't be,' Sam said. 'I hardly kept a straight face. And I didn't keep my mouth shut.'

'Now, why doesn't that surprise me?' Sheelagh queried. 'Listen, I wanted to run a few things past you anyway. Sit down.'

Obediently, she drew a chair up, their legs brushing together underneath the table. She enjoyed the thrill of excitement their secret suddenly provided then she turned her attention back to the subject at hand and the papers spread all over the table. Unless she was completely mistaken, Sheelagh was channelling her methodical nature with different coloured highlighters and a rather quirky filing system that Sam wanted to understand the mystery behind. That wasn't for now though. Her attention was caught by the document directly in front of her and the ones systematically set up behind it.

'Have her bank accounts been touched?' she asked.

'Not since the day before the clothes were found on the sandbank,' Sheelagh answered. When Sam's shoulders slumped, she squeezed her knee discreetly. 'Hang on, listen to me. There are a couple of interesting things I wanted to talk to you about.'

Sam inclined her head. 'Okay.'

'There are regular deposits into the account,' explained Sheelagh, pointing to the lines highlighted in blue. 'All of these are from you, right? Including the lump sum from the other day?'

'I wanted her to have options,' Sam said quietly. 'I might want her home but as long as she's safe...'

'Sure,' Sheelagh said, 'of course. As far as outgoings are concerned, she usually makes withdrawals of tens and twenties, the odd payment on her debit card. But this,' she continued, pointing to a line in red, 'is unusual. She withdrew £100 a few days before she went missing – the day we were at the wedding. Have you any idea why?'

'No,' Sam answered. 'No, she didn't mention anything specifically when we talked about the party.'

'Could it have been something for the party?' Sheelagh persisted.

'I promised her I'd pay for everything,' said Sam, 'I insisted and she was happy about that. She didn't need the money.'

'It's possible she could've got the money out in order to get something then changed her mind when you insisted on paying,' Sheelagh suggested.

'That's not Abi,' Sam replied with the ghost of a smile. 'It would've been impulsive. She would've seen something she wanted and bought it, especially if it was a dress or shoes. I mean, look at all these,' she added, gesturing to the debit card payments highlighted in green on the various documents. 'That there was a dress; that one was a really expensive pair of boots that she's barely worn. When she wanders in a clothes shop, she flashes the plastic. And there's nothing else she could've spent that amount of money on, not right then. No electronics, there's nothing new in her room. I've been over it with a fine tooth comb. Unless... ' She faltered. 'Has she got another account that I don't know about? Savings or something?'

'Yes,' Sheelagh admitted. Pulling out another collection of papers, she went on, 'This is the account she was paying the website subs into, probably in a deliberate attempt to keep it separate in case you found out. Regular lump sums, irregular amounts. From what I can see, there's never been any correlation between money she's withdrawn from her normal account and money deposited into the savings account. It's completely separate. And there haven't been any deposits in the last week.'

'There's eight hundred quid in here,' Sam muttered. 'I can't believe that she was... But this was enough to at least go through with the threat of leaving for a week or so. Like she's threatened me with in the past – the loud threat to make a point, not anything like this. Why stay if she had some savings and a dubious income? She could've made her point in a more...Abi kinda way.'

Smiling, Sheelagh said, 'So much for being unable to look at this objectively.'

'I could be seeing what I want to see,' answered Sam

'What do you want to see?' Sheelagh questioned.

Before she spoke, Sam glanced around to check no one was eavesdropping. 'Listen, I know what we said last night but I'm not sure. I do think it's a possibility that she was pushing me to make a decision. That could explain why she withdrew a large amount of money that day, to tide her over while she proved her point. But what if it didn't quite work out like that? Am I clutching at straws?'

'Maybe, maybe not. Look at this.' Sheelagh returned to the original statement and tapped on one of the last lines, again highlighted in red. She bought another travel card, a temporary one.' When Sam looked at her sharply, she offered a little triumphant smile. 'She bought it the last day you saw her on her debit card, at least a day before her clothes were left on the sandbank with the other one in the pocket.'

Sam sucked in her breath. 'That's not a coincidence.'

'It could mean one of two things,' Sheelagh said after a moment. 'Abi could've done all this herself. She'd know she needed to leave some sort of identification on the sandbank but, if she was intent on jumping in, why not leave her wallet? We didn't find her bank cards, college ID, no shop loyalty cards or anything like that. The travel card was something easily replaceable with her name on it. Or,' she continued as Sam absorbed that, 'someone else was involved and they wanted to make it look like a suicide. Either way, I don't believe Abi went anywhere near the water.'

For a minute, Sam was silent. Then the roar of the front office filtered into her mind again and she tried to blink away her sudden confusion. Of course, Sheelagh recognised or sensed it and quickly swept the papers up into a pile.

'We'll talk later,' she said firmly.

'Thank you,' Sam murmured, meeting her gaze. 'Thank you.'

Sheelagh just shook her head, a warning that gratitude wasn't necessary. She reached pointedly for her cooling coffee and Sam took the hint, rising and resting a hand on her shoulder again briefly in as innocuous a way as possible before rejoining the rest of her colleagues walking through the corridors. Although she had a lot to think about, she wanted to postpone it until her thoughts had settled. With that in mind, she returned to custody to check on the prostitute who'd been brought in from Debbie's flat and was being treated as a witness.

She'd been checked over by the FME and cleared for interview but it seemed she would only talk to Debbie and Sam was forced to call her downstairs. Before letting her into the interview room, though, she stepped in front of the door and mustered her best apologetic tone.

'Debbie,' she said, 'before you go in I just wanted to say the FME says she's gonna be fine and the nosebleed was down to the stress of the situation.'

With a nod, Debbie answered, 'I shouldn't have said what I said to you earlier about your daughter.'

'I asked for it, didn't I?' Sam replied. 'You were right, I'm in no position to criticise anyone. Look, I – I need a bit of space at the moment.' To her surprise, she was close to tears again and she hated it. 'Can you – can you supervise this case with Gary?'

'Course, all we've gotta do is catch Lara's husband and arrest him.' When Sam smiled at the simplicity of that statement, Debbie continued, 'You concentrate on, I don't know, holding yourself together.'

'Thank you,' Sam said sincerely, peeling away towards the double doors.

'I'm sure Abi'll turn up,' Debbie called after her. 'She will.'

She smiled and stepped towards the doors, only to be nearly bowled over by Phil coming through them.

'Sam, listen, there's a message for you on the office answer machine,' he said. 'it's a girl's voice.'

Suddenly, her feet were moving without much control. She rushed up to CID after him to listen to a grainy message on the answer machine with Jack that turned out to be an old informant. It was nothing to do with Abi and she felt the rush of disappointment, made more acute by the fact both Jack and Phil were gazing at her sympathetically.

'Has Sheelagh come up with anything yet?' Jack questioned.

'A few odd things, that's all,' Sam answered, endeavouring to keep her tone steady. 'If it turns into anything, we'll let you know.'

'Good,' he answered before departing.

With him gone, Phil came closer. 'You and Sheelagh...'

'Yes,' she muttered.

'About time,' he said then he cleared his throat. 'Listen, have you thought about an appeal? Okay, you go in front of the cameras, you put up posters, and you take out ads. Come on, Samantha,' he pressed, 'you helped me out, let me help you.' Kneeling down, he continued, 'That time when we both thought Weaver was gonna kill us? Now, you opened my eyes up to a load of things. Like my relationship with my own daughter. I've been seeing loads more of Maddy because of what you said to me. It's made me a better father – a better person, if I'm to be honest. So just let me help you.'

His earnestness shook her, bringing her closer to tears than she'd allow. It was bizarre to think of him speaking to her like this when, less than a year ago, he'd been revelling in the fact she'd lost out on the DI's job. Then again, so much had changed in the last year and this was the least surprising of the lot. If she'd spent last night soothed to sleep by Sheelagh with loving kisses then she could accept a little sincere sympathy from DS Hunter.

'I'll think about it,' she said finally. 'The appeal, the ads. I'll talk to Sheelagh, see what she thinks.'

He smiled. 'You need any help, you let me know, all right?'

Nodding, she said, 'You were right, you know. About me being an idiot. I should've told her months ago.'

'Well, you got there in the end,' he answered. 'Better late than never, yeah?'

She wasn't about to confide in him the truth of the matter – that her equivocation had likely caused this mess with Abi in the first place. Only one person could have that insight into her heart and she felt as though she needed to see her again right now, just to lean on her strength in the way she'd lean on no one else's.

He left her to it and she endeavoured to concentrate on her paperwork, not very successfully she had to concede. It made her mind up for her and, once CID began to empty, she sneaked out to Jack's office and knocked on the door. He called her in and offered her a seat, waiting in his usual affable way to find out what it was she wanted.

'Guv, can I take a couple of days off?' she asked finally. 'I've brought my urgent paperwork up to date this afternoon so I don't reckon it'd cause too much disruption to my caseload.'

'Well, I appreciate your consideration,' he answered. 'As for the time off... Sure, take all the time you need. As long as there's nothing you're keeping from me,' he added seriously. 'I know I gave you and Sheelagh permission to look into this but I don't want you keeping any leads from me or the investigating officers.'

'We're not,' she said. 'There are a couple of things we're looking at but nothing that tells us anything about where Abi might be. Except,' she went on carefully, 'that we're pretty certain Abi didn't go in the water.'

He didn't press her on how they came to that conclusion. Instead, he said, 'I'm pleased you and Sheelagh are moving forward.'

'Not half as pleased as I am,' she returned, standing. 'Cheers, Guv.'

Back in CID, she tidied up all the loose ends she could while she was waiting for Sheelagh's shift to finish. She somehow managed to focus a little better now she'd asked for a couple of days leave, as though she was putting Abi above her job again and that felt good. Coming into work today hadn't been about prioritising work above her family but Abi might see it that way if she happened to be watching. After all, if this was actually about pushing her to be brave then surely Abi would be nearby, watching for her reaction. Then again, if she had been doing that then she would know by now that she'd got what she wanted. The game would be over so there'd be no reason for her not to come home. That was something else she needed to discuss with Sheelagh tonight.

'Are you ready to go?'

She looked up from her paperwork, blinking at Sheelagh stood beside her. There were still a couple of people left in CID so she didn't say any of what she was thinking and instead packed up as rapidly as she could. Sheelagh waited patiently then shot her a warm smile as they set off to the car. They didn't exchange a word until they were outside in the cool air. Autumn was in full swing now and it reminded her of where they were this time last year. Sheelagh had been pregnant and Sam had been intent on looking after her. Now the roles were reversed and Niamh was...

'What are you thinking?' Sheelagh queried suddenly.

Sam glanced sideways. 'How little food there is in the fridge.'

'You can tell me the truth later,' Sheelagh said. 'We'll order a Chinese, okay? Or I could do some shopping.'

'If I went round the supermarket tonight I'd be done for ABH,' Sam answered.

Smiling, Sheelagh replied, 'That's why I suggested I go, not you.'

'I'd rather you didn't,' said Sam in as offhand a manner as she could manage. From the look she chanced across, she knew that Sheelagh had caught the subtext in that statement. 'Do you mind driving?'

'What do you think?' Sheelagh shot back. 'I've got the keys anyway.'

'Yeah, that had occurred to me,' Sam retorted.

They settled into an easy silence, although the size of the bag that Sheelagh dumped onto the backseat was a reminder that they had things to deal with tonight. Leaning back into the passenger seat, Sam couldn't help but stare at Sheelagh. This time yesterday she was angry and attempting to isolate herself from Sheelagh because she couldn't force herself to be brave. But Sheelagh, for whatever crazy reason, loved her and was willing to put up with someone who was beyond infuriating because together they were...

'I've taken a few days off,' Sam said as they turned onto the main road. 'I told Jack I needed the time, I couldn't focus on my work today.'

Sheelagh stretched a hand onto her knee but didn't say anything. She didn't need to. Sam could sense her unspoken pride and that was only confirmed when Sheelagh suddenly decided to turn the CD player on and fill the car with 'Kisses of Fire'. The song couldn't have been more appropriate considering how completely besotted she was with Sheelagh and how she yearned for more than the, admittedly, passionate kisses they'd exchanged so far. For the entire journey, she watched Sheelagh's precise movements and self-conscious glances. When she didn't need two hands for driving, her left hand rested on Sam's thigh and it seemed to be distracting them both equally. There was nothing Sam wanted more than to get Sheelagh back home and take her to bed. Hell, she didn't even think they'd get that far. All she knew was that she suddenly needed more – she needed to touch Sheelagh and show her exactly how much she loved her. Then, as rapidly as the images flashed into her mind, she fought them away. It was one thing to imagine all the things she wanted to do to Sheelagh but she couldn't follow through on it. Not only were neither of them ready, if it went badly then she'd have screwed everything up just for a bit of physical comfort. She needed to get this right.

So, by the time they got home, she'd pretty much managed to douse her desire under pragmatism. It didn't mean that as they walked into the house, though, that she was cured and literally the first thing she did when the door closed was push Sheelagh against the wall and kiss her deeply. The bags they were both carrying clattered to the floor and Sam could feel exactly how much Sheelagh wanted her from the sheer intensity of the kiss. With anybody else, she would've given in or pushed this to its inevitable conclusion but she couldn't right now. She just couldn't. With extreme effort, she withdrew, trying to catch her breath, and rested her forehead against Sheelagh's.

'I've wanted to do that all day,' she admitted.

Sheelagh took a shuddering breath. 'Oh, good, it wasn't just me. How did you cope with this for a year?'

'I didn't, remember,' Sam murmured, kissing her again. It swiftly got out of control and she finally had to force herself away. 'We can't...'

'I know,' Sheelagh replied then she disentangled herself firmly. 'I'll put the kettle on.'

Closing her eyes, Sam swivelled and rested her back against the wall. She needed a few minutes alone to calm down but then she found herself smiling in a way that was more related to the fact that they'd come home together, as a couple. They were a couple, she realised all of a sudden. Nothing she'd fantasised about in the last year had prepared her for the thrill of thinking of them in conjunction, as two halves of a whole.

She pushed off from the wall and followed Sheelagh into the kitchen where she found her making tea and humming to herself. Sam leaned against the door frame and watched, completely entranced. When she turned around with the cups, Sheelagh blushed at being studied so intently but Sam just found her embarrassment more intoxicating. Stepping forward, she took one of the cups then pressed a chaste kiss to Sheelagh's lips.

'Come on,' she said. 'Let's go sit down.'

Once on the sofa, they both found coasters for their drinks and automatically gravitated towards each other. Sam kicked off her shoes and Sheelagh did the same then they ended up with Sheelagh holding her protectively while she rested back, their legs splayed out along the sofa. When Sheelagh pressed a kiss to her head, Sam nestled in closer.

'You can talk, you know,' Sheelagh said eventually.

'I'm not sure I want to,' she admitted. 'I don't know how I can be so...content when Abi's not here. It makes me feel like I've let her down all over again.'

'You haven't,' Sheelagh replied. 'This is what she wanted, remember?'

'Yeah, and I couldn't deliver,' she muttered. 'She was completely fixated on what life could be like if I'd just... And that was exactly what I was trying to avoid. I pushed her away. That's why I don't know a thing about what was going on in her life – the webcam business, nothing.'

Sheelagh smoothed down her hair. 'I wouldn't say that. You know what she wants, that's more than some parents can say about their kids. Trust me, I was so far behind with Connor... At least Abi yelled at you.'

'And when Connor turned to you, you didn't push him away,' Sam returned. 'I've managed to hurt both of you so much.'

'You hurt yourself too,' Sheelagh reminded her. 'You've practically tortured yourself over the last year, darling. That's not the behaviour of someone who doesn't care. I think Abi knows that, doesn't she?'

'Yeah,' Sam conceded reluctantly. 'But, listen, if she was trying to prove a point then she's won, hasn't she? She's got want she wanted, she can come home now.'

Sighing, Sheelagh said, 'I must admit, that's crossed my mind as well.'

'Do you think someone's holding her?' asked Sam.

'Maybe,' replied Sheelagh. 'There are a couple of other things in her bank statements I want to run by you. The emails, I've only skimmed through. Maybe you could look at them tomorrow while you're off. Unless you want me to do it. I've got those and the phone records to take a good look at.'

Sam burrowed her head underneath Sheelagh's chin. 'I'll do the emails.'

They stayed like that for a while, eventually remembering their cooling cups of tea and relocating just long enough to bring them onto the sofa. Sam found sitting like this something of a novelty. It was intimate and languid; there was nothing calculated about it beyond the desperation to be close to one another. Sheelagh dropped the odd kiss onto her head and Sam occasionally squeezed her leg, lingering only until a jolt of desire forced her hand away. At some point, they needed to talk about that but, then, at some point there were a lot of things they needed to talk about.

Finally, Sheelagh cajoled her into movement with the promise of Chinese food. Sam busied herself with pouring them both a glass of wine while Sheelagh was on the phone ordering then she sat at the kitchen table waiting for her to come through with the papers she'd brought home with her. As Sheelagh unpacked them, Sam was focused on her fingers.

'I have a question,' she said, in a bid to distract herself.

Sheelagh shot her a disarming look that, in another situation, would've resulted in Sam pressing her against the kitchen counter and throwing caution to the wind. 'Oh?'

Swallowing, Sam managed to ask, 'How did you know my favourite Chinese food? I know I never mentioned it.'

'You didn't need to,' Sheelagh answered with a smile. 'When I was round here once, I saw it circled on the menu when I was getting something or other, I can't remember what. I filed it away for future use.'

Sam stared at her. 'You're amazing, you know that?'

'My turn,' Sheelagh said as she finished unpacking the papers and settled into a chair. 'How is it you just happened to have a Frank Sinatra CD lying around?'

'I didn't,' Sam confessed. 'The day I was meant to meet Abi, I arrived early and there was a second-hand music shop down the street. I went in, had a look round and there it was.'

Sheelagh threaded their fingers together. 'You can be pretty romantic when you put your mind to it.'

'Don't tell anyone,' Sam warned. 'You'll wreck my image. Now, come on, you said you had some things to run by me.'

Nodding, Sheelagh extracted the bank statements from the mass of papers and nudged her chair around so they were next to each other. Sam found herself turning her head and kissing her briefly before resting a hand on her leg as they looked at the papers.

'I want you to look through all these in detail anyway,' Sheelagh said, 'but there are just a couple of things that stand out for me. This one here – you see the date?'

Sam looked at the withdrawal highlighted in red and frowned. 'That's the day we arrested Craig.'

'Exactly,' Sheelagh answered, squeezing her hand. 'Now, most of her withdrawals are predictable. They're either near to college or near to home – there's a logic about them. Not with this one. It's completely out of the way. Of course, it's possible she withdrew the money while she was with Craig but –'

'But she might not have,' Sam concluded for her, taking a closer look at the location tag. She was gratified by Sheelagh pulling out a map with several clusters of dots on it and shot her another appreciative glance. 'Like I said, amazing. Where's the anomaly?'

Sheelagh pointed and Sam frowned at the red dot. It rang a bell, though she couldn't exactly say why. It was nowhere near the Olsons' family home, although that didn't discount that she was with him entirely, of course.

'Have we got a timestamp?' she asked.

'Half four,' Sheelagh replied. 'After she left the nick.'

Biting her lip, Sam said, 'I'm not sure she was with Craig. When I got home that night, she'd just got in. I remember because... I thought she was leaving and I was nervous about asking her. She said that she'd been to see a friend. I didn't press for details. She was calmer than she'd been before, I wanted to keep it that away.'

'Understandable,' answered Sheelagh. 'As far as visiting a friend goes, I cross-checked with her address book and came up blank. All right, some of the names aren't attached to addresses but there's no connection for the ones that are. This cash machine's a little off the beaten path. It's not one you'd automatically see if you got off a tube or a bus. It's down a side-street, you'd have to be actively looking for a cash machine if you didn't know it was there.'

'Anything in the same area?' Sam questioned after a moment.

'Yes,' Sheelagh replied. 'Now, she withdrew that £100 on the day of the wedding, right? But a couple of hours before that, from the same cash machine as this other activity, she withdrew £10. She must get on the tube from there because a few hours later she withdraws the lump sum from an ATM close to here.'

'It doesn't make sense,' Sam said. 'Why was she over in that area of London? What happened to make her withdraw the hundred quid?'

'I don't know,' Sheelagh answered, 'but I think it's important.'

Sam inclined her head. 'I think you're right. Until we can figure out what she was doing there, though, it's just speculation. It doesn't prove either way that she left of her own free will or that someone else was involved.'

'No,' Sheelagh said, 'it doesn't. I want your help though. A timeline might make things a bit clearer. If we're saying that the reason she was upset was you and me then let's see how that fits into the timeline. Okay?'

'Okay,' Sam agreed. 'Wait here.'

She'd never actually got to the point where she'd bought a whiteboard for use at home, though it had crossed her mind on occasion. One of the things holding her back had, ironically enough, been Abi's inevitable reaction to her bringing more work home with her. So she had to make do with going into Abi's room and detaching her pin board from the wall. She was gently removing all the little mementos when something taped to the back caught in her fingers. Pulling it away, she sat down on the bed and opened the envelope. For a long while she stared at the two cards inside, losing track of time until there was a soft knock on the open door.

'Hey,' said Sheelagh carefully, 'the food's here. Thought you might've heard the doorbell.'

Shaking her head, Sam replied, 'You sent Abi a Christmas card.'

'Erm, yeah.' Sheelagh stepped tentatively across the threshold. 'Don't tell me she kept it.'

'Taped behind the board,' Sam said, patting the bed beside her and waiting for Sheelagh to sit before she passed her the second card. 'Along with this one. Eight words, that's all he could be bothered to write. And yours... Even with everything going on in your life last Christmas, you found the time to not only send her a card but to be so personal and...kind.'

Sheelagh wrapped an arm around her waist. 'Why do you think she kept it?'

'Oh, she's got a box of stuff under her bed,' Sam answered. 'Cards, little presents, all sorts. She's a bit of a hoarder. I've had a look through but, actually, I'd like you to go through it all again, see if there's anything I've missed. Anyway,' she continued, 'I reckon she kept it like she would anything that thoughtful and then, back in the spring when she realised, she looked at it again. It's pretty compelling when you put them side by side, isn't it?'

'I suppose it is,' Sheelagh said with a smile.

Sam rested her head against her shoulder and sighed. 'It all piles up. You know, she's looking at Glenn's complete lack of interest and there you are and she can see it all crystal clear in the distance. I tried not to. I had these moments where I let myself and I couldn't help it because it was...'

'Right,' Sheelagh supplied softly, kissing her head.

'Exactly,' she muttered. 'I can understand why she was so frustrated. I mean, she looks at me screwing up again after all the stuff with Glenn...' Gesturing to the card on Sheelagh's lap, she said, 'She's got the proof staring her in the face that he doesn't give a damn and I tip her over the edge. And at the back of her head there's a voice wondering whether it would've been different if I'd told Glenn about her all those years ago.'

'Do you think it would've been?' queried Sheelagh.

'Honestly? No. You went through these thoughts,' she added, 'you know how it feels. This guy who I thought I loved had just told me he'd done this horrific thing, that he wasn't who I thought he was. I was hormonal, yeah, but I could still see everything clearly. I couldn't let him anywhere near me, I was revolted. There was certainly no relationship anymore, everything I thought we'd had was based on a lie. So what was I supposed to do? Take the risk of telling him I'd had his baby and hope that he'd leave us alone? Because I tell you something, Sheelagh, all it would've taken is one look at Abi and his ideas about not wanting kids would've gone right out of the window. She had everybody wrapped around her little finger, me included. He would've wanted to be part of her life and what would've happened then, hmm? If I'd allowed him access I would've been forever waiting, just listening for the phone call or the knock on the door. He'd told me that he didn't trust himself. What was I meant to do?'

Dumping the card onto the floor, Sheelagh manoeuvred so she could wrap two arms around her. 'Come here, come on.'

Sam didn't realise she was crying until her tears dribbled onto Sheelagh's cheek then the floodgates really opened and she allowed Sheelagh to gently rock her back and forth on the bed until it subsided. She'd cried more in the last couple of days than she'd allowed herself to in years.

'You've never talked about this, have you?' Sheelagh asked. Withdrawing, she cupped her cheek and mopped up some tears with her thumb. 'You've kept it all inside.'

'What else was I meant to do?' Sam returned. 'There was no one I could tell, no one I wanted to tell.'

Sheelagh absorbed that then kissed her. 'Come on, the food's getting cold. We'll deal with the timeline in a bit, okay?'

With a shaky breath, Sam stood and trusted Sheelagh to keep her steady as they went back downstairs. Until the scent of sweet and sour assaulted her nostrils, she didn't realise how hungry she was. Her stomach rumbled and Sheelagh's lips twitched as she sat her down, pushing her wine over before she busied herself with serving up the takeaway. Sam watched her, love swelling in her chest. When a plate was deposited in front of her, she couldn't help but grasp Sheelagh's wrist and kiss her hand. Sheelagh just smiled again and gathered her own plate from the counter.

The food was good and the wine better. It was baffling, really, how easily they'd slipped into domesticity. For most of her life she'd rebelled against falling into this kind of trap, knowing full well that it'd be packed with half-truths and misconceptions. What would be the point of a relationship like that, even if she'd found someone she wanted to waste her valuable time on anyway? The flashes of domesticity since her friendship with Sheelagh began – most notably with Niamh – had been tantalising enough but this was real; this was what they could be if they could navigate all the hurdles and if she could only let herself need it. Although, she acknowledged with a wry smile, she needed it already; perhaps she always had.

'What are you grinning about?' Sheelagh queried as she cleared the table.

'Nothing,' she lied. 'I'm gonna actually get the pin board this time and we can talk this through.'

Sheelagh nodded. 'Sure. Look, do you want me to ask Gina for some time off? I bet I could talk her into it.'

Standing, Sam moved towards her instead of the door. She tucked her hands around Sheelagh's neck and brought her closer for a kiss, enjoying the new sensation of Sheelagh's fingers winding around her waist and straying lower than was entirely necessary. It was another taste of the future and Sam tried hard to battle the images it conjured away. Even so, when she finally pulled back, she was pretty sure it was visible in her face. There was certainly something new in Sheelagh's face; an extension of the desire they'd shared earlier in the hallway. One thing was for certain – it was going to be hard for both of them to keep a lid on this until they found Abi.

'I think you should go to work tomorrow, don't you?' Sam questioned with a little smirk.

Exhaling, Sheelagh murmured, 'If you want me to stay, I'll try and control myself.'

Sam swallowed. 'That's a very generous offer but I'd rather you didn't.'

'So I should go to work,' Sheelagh said after a moment.

'To be honest, I could do with you keeping your ears open for me,' Sam went on, attempting to ignore the heat percolating in her stomach. 'I know what that place is like.'

'Course,' answered Sheelagh, 'seeing as it's you.'

Sam chuckled and turned back to the door. She had the feeling that if she stayed there much longer all her good intentions would go out of the window and she'd push them into something neither of them could handle right now. Although, she conceded, it was enticing to realise that Sheelagh seemed to want this as much as she did.

When she got back to the kitchen with the pin board, her wine glass had been refilled and Sheelagh was sat patiently at the table with her stacks of paperwork. Sam propped the board up on the worktop and pulled some scrap paper out of the drawer underneath. It'd be primitive but it'd do.

'Let's start with the last withdrawal and work backwards,' she said.

Sheelagh was already on the right page. 'Okay, so, the last activity on her bank on her account is the day before her clothes were found, the day before you reported her missing.' She watched Sam write that down before continuing, 'That was the day after the last time you saw her, suggesting that she was well enough that morning to go to the ATM and withdraw some cash.'

'How much?' Sam queried.

'£20 from an ATM on the outskirts of Canley,' Sheelagh said. 'Between her college and the tube station but that may be coincidence. We know she didn't go into college that day so what was she doing in the area?'

Moving to the map spread over the far end of the table, Sam located the little red dot that Sheelagh had made near the cluster of green dots in the streets around the college. She was right; it was on the way to the tube station but that wasn't the station Abi usually went towards – she had no reason to.

'It's on the wrong line,' she explained, glancing to Sheelagh. 'The reason she prefers the bus is because she has to walk further to get to the right tube station. It's usually not worth it, unless she's with someone. But if she goes to that tube station then she'd be deliberately going somewhere on that line.'

'Okay,' Sheelagh said slowly, 'so that gives us two questions.'

Sam scrambled for a fresh piece of paper. 'What was she doing in the area when she didn't come home the night before and when she didn't going to college? And where was she going?'

'Also, what did she need the money for?' added Sheelagh. 'A couple of days earlier she'd withdrawn over £100. Had she spent it?'

'Maybe on somewhere to sleep the night before?' Sam suggested. 'Abi's not one for roughing it, trust me.'

Sheelagh stood, taking the pen from her and grasping some more paper. 'Things to check out: local hotels for that night, especially in the area around the college, and CCTV of the cash machine where she withdrew the money that morning. That might give us some idea of her state, show if she used the card or someone else did.'

'Or if she was alone,' Sam said. 'It's plausible that she stayed over at a hotel with a man. That could explain the first night away, couldn't it? Then something happened and...'

When she trailed off, Sheelagh rubbed her arm. 'She bought the temporary travel card the day before, in the morning. From the time stamp on the transaction, she bought it near the bus stop. If she'd lost her old one – or if she had other plans for it – that was the obvious time to replace it.'

'But it decreases the possibility that, if she was with someone that night, they took the card to plant with her clothes at the sandbank,' concluded Sam. Sighing, she rested her forehead in her hand. 'She knew, Abi knew. I mean, she's got all this cash lying around, hasn't she? Why pay for the travel card with her debit card if not to leave a record of the transaction?'

'True,' Sheelagh said, 'but someone else could've known that just as easily. Until we find out who made those withdrawals, we don't know. Maybe even after that, all we might know for certain is that the travel card turned up on the sandbank along with her trousers and your shirt.'

'Back to square one,' Sam muttered.

Sheelagh took her hand. 'Not yet, we're not. Keep writing, come on.'

Only someone who knew and loved her could manage her in this way, Sam recognised as they returned to their posts. Sheelagh sat back down with the bank statements while Sam moved to the pin board, taking the map across with her, and began thinking aloud.

'All right,' she said, 'so we've got the day of the wedding when she withdraws this £100 from one of her usual cash machines. Forget what she wanted it for and, actually, forget that altogether for now. This £10 withdrawal you identified from this anomaly spot a few hours earlier – that's the one I'm interested in. What was she doing there? We need the CCTV from that machine as well.'

'Yep,' Sheelagh replied, stretching for the pen again and writing that down before passing it back. 'What about the tube lines?'

Clicking her fingers, Sam looked back to the map then smiled. 'You're a genius.' She moved to join Sheelagh at the table, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her steady. 'The nearest station to the anomaly location is on the same line as the one she – or whoever – headed towards the day before we found her clothes, the day after I last saw her.'

'We work out who she was seeing that day and we've got ourselves a lead,' Sheelagh said.

Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek. 'Let's finish this timeline of financial activity.'

They worked brilliantly together for the next hour or so. It helped that Sheelagh knew the way her mind worked but that was hardly the only reason – Sam felt secure saying the first thing that popped into her head when, with anyone else, she would've stopped to censor herself. Getting all the outlandish possibilities down on paper meant that her mind was free to focus on the more probable scenarios and Sheelagh didn't judge. They were asking the right question and, finally, Sam felt as though she was doing something that might help Abi. Not having anything to do with the detectives handling the case was actually a blessing – they could do this better themselves.

'It's getting late,' Sheelagh pointed out as Sam unsuccessfully stifled a yawn. 'I'm not sure there's much more we can do tonight.'

Rubbing her neck, Sam said, 'We haven't even started looking at the emails or the phone records.'

'I'll leave the emails with you tomorrow and I'll do the phone records myself,' Sheelagh answered. 'If Gina puts me on front desk or custody I'll have plenty of time and I can request any checks we need as well.'

'What about this lot?' Sam queried, gesturing to the lengthy list of potential CCTV locations and other sources of information. When Sheelagh squinted at the list, Sam recognised how tired she was and stood to slot an arm around her shoulders. 'We'll work out the details. If you're going to work in the morning, you need to rest.'

Sheelagh leaned back against her. 'I'm fine.'

'No, you're not,' Sam replied. She kissed her head, inhaling the scent of her own shampoo in Sheelagh's hair, something far more intoxicating than it should've been. 'Go get ready for bed, I'll tidy this mess up.'

'I'll see you up there?' questioned Sheelagh.

It was said so casually but there was nothing casual about it. Sam felt the tension in her shoulders and massaged them gently, knowing that she was as nervous about the question as Sheelagh was. Somewhere down the line it'd be more than this but, tonight, it was simply about comfort and being together. If she'd have allowed her mind to wander during the evening, she'd have been anxious about it as well but they'd been far too comfortable for any doubts like that to creep in. They were just being their normal selves and, while that could lead anywhere if they weren't careful, tonight it was just going to lead to the same place it had last night.

'I won't be long,' Sam promised.

Sheelagh relaxed all of a sudden and slipped out of her chair. She kissed her cheek on the way past and Sam watched in vague disbelief as the woman she loved strolled off in the direction of her bedroom. It was all a bit too much so she decided to ignore it and focus on the immediate steps of organising the papers neatly then making sure the house was secure before she climbed the stairs.

She'd taken so long that Sheelagh was already in bed. Sam avoided how that thought bounced around her stomach and simply smiled, collecting her pyjamas from the bottom of the bed and heading into the bathroom. When she closed the door, she had to rest against it for a minute to drag her mind out of the gutter. She couldn't deny that she wanted more than was practical right now but it was also true that she was worried about what came next, even if it was the appropriate time to push forward. It was a relief in some respects that it wasn't then she felt guilty for being in any way glad that Abi was missing. Her mind really was a mess at the moment.

Five minutes later, she returned to the bedroom in her pyjamas. Sheelagh was lying on her side, the cover thrown back waiting for her. Turning out the light, Sam tremulously moved to slip under the duvet. Unlike last night, she wasn't facing away from her and she took the opportunity to kiss her softly before nestling into Sheelagh's shoulder and resting a hand over her stomach. The silence stretched but Sam knew neither of them was attempting to sleep.

Slowly, she began swirling her fingers in circles around the hem of Sheelagh's pyjama top. 'When I was on holiday with Abi early last year, before all the Glenn stuff kicked off, do you remember?'

Sheelagh smoothed her hair down. 'Course.'

'I'd answered my phone a few times while I was away,' Sam went on softly, 'and Abi had asked me not to again. When it was Gina, I picked up and it was about you. I was sat by the pool, watching Abi having fun with a bunch of nice lads, and she came over ready to yell at me once I'd put the phone down. She calmed down when she heard it was about you. She said I had a soft spot for you, that I cared about you.'

'Well, she wasn't wrong,' Sheelagh commented.

'No,' Sam murmured as she tentatively wrapped her leg around Sheelagh's. 'When I got back to work... That was the day everything kicked off with Dougie Pritchard but that's not what I remember. Do you know that Gina waited to tell me you slapped Debbie until she could see my reaction?'

Sheelagh let out a chuckle. 'No.'

'I had a right go at Debbie,' Sam said. 'You heard that but... Well, afterwards I got told off by Eva. You'd come in to give me my phone back I think and I was happy.'

'I kissed your cheek,' Sheelagh supplied, 'because you'd been pretty spectacular, from what I remember.'

'That's right,' Sam replied. 'Then Eva came in to check I was all right. I was humming, you see, and it was distracting the whole department.'

Now Sheelagh burst out laughing and Sam couldn't help but incline her head upwards, searching for her lips. The kiss drowned out the laughter but left something else in its wake. Sam settled back into her previous position, this time acquiescing to the pull of fatigue and closing her eyes.

'I'm not gonna be very good at this,' she admitted into the darkness.

'I respectfully disagree,' Sheelagh returned. Kissing her head, she added, 'All you have to do is keep letting me in.'

Sam groped for her hand. 'I do love you. I won't say that enough either.'

'It's not the words that matter,' said Sheelagh. 'But, for the record, I love you too. Now go to sleep.'

Smiling, Sam finally allowed the fatigue to overtake her. She didn't kid herself – if it wasn't for Sheelagh holding her steady, she would've spent the entire night poring through emails and steadily growing more frustrated. As it was, the last thought she succumbed to was how beautiful Sheelagh's presence in her bed was. She didn't know how she'd ever sleep alone again.


What woke her in the morning was ostensibly the shower. However, she soon realised that she felt chilled by Sheelagh's absence. She tucked her hand underneath her chin and twisted to face the door. It wasn't doing her any good to be imagining Sheelagh under the hot spray of the shower but it certainly woke her up. When the water switched off her breath caught but, given that Sheelagh didn't immediately emerge, it seemed as if she was getting dressed in there. Of course she was. The logic of it didn't detract from the disappointment Sam felt. She was hungry to see more of Sheelagh's body, knowing already that she wanted to explore it in detail. It scared her a little, to jump from wishful thinking to the reality of sleeping beside Sheelagh and all the possibilities that naturally followed. Men were so easy to please but this would never be just sex; it was far more to her. It occurred to her now that, aside from Glenn, she'd never been in love with anyone she'd slept with. Considering that she could discount Glenn because of his lies... Well, this would be the equivalent of two first times. No wonder she was a little nervous.

A few minutes later the bathroom door opened and Sheelagh's footsteps creaked across the corridor. Sam wondered all of a sudden whether she'd creep downstairs but, instead, she popped her head around the door then grimaced.

'I didn't mean to wake you,' she said.

'I would've been disappointed if you hadn't,' Sam replied.

Smiling, Sheelagh came to sit beside her on the bed, reaching out and brushing hair from her eyes. With no one else would Sam have allowed herself the vulnerability of this scenario and the intimacy should've terrified her, but it didn't. She manoeuvred her head onto Sheelagh's lap and was rewarded with a little sigh.

'Are you sure you don't want me to stay here?' Sheelagh questioned.

'Course I do,' she answered. 'But you can't.'

'Worth a shot,' Sheelagh said. 'I'm only at the other end of the phone if you need me though.'

'I'm not sure Gina would appreciate you making that offer,' Sam retorted.

Sheelagh chuckled. 'She's a big softie really, remember.'

'I still wouldn't risk it,' said Sam. 'I'm pretty fond of my neck not being broken, thank you very much. Anyway, I've been thinking. I'll call all the hotels in the area, ask them about girls fitting Abi's description on that night, and look over the emails. If you could take care of the phone records and request the CCTV?'

'Consider it done,' Sheelagh answered, caressing her head. 'Now I've gotta go or I'll be late. I didn't want to move this morning, for some bizarre reason.'

Sighing, Sam withdrew and sat up. She wasn't looking forward to the day ahead, to be fair, but she couldn't ask Sheelagh to stay. It wasn't the right thing to do and they both knew it. Besides, they might yet need their brownie points with Gina and, especially, the other top brass at Sun Hill. Sam met her eye, drinking in the affection there, and then kissed her slowly.

'There's a spare key in the drawer beside the cooker,' she said as she pulled back. 'Might come in handy.'

Somehow, the smile on Sheelagh's face grew and she kissed her again. 'I'll take it before you change your mind. I'll see you later, okay?'

Sam nodded and reluctantly let her go. She couldn't take her eyes off her as she left the bedroom, being rewarded with a glance over the shoulder that told her exactly where Sheelagh's mind had wandered to. Pressing her lips together, Sam practically held her breath until the front door closed a few minutes later. Then, all of a sudden, she felt the loneliness wash over her. She hadn't realised how much Sheelagh's presence had strengthened her over the last couple of days and the silence of the house settled like a stone.

It took a great deal of effort to drag herself out of bed and go about her normal morning routine. As soon as she stepped into the bathroom, she was assaulted by the fantasy of Sheelagh in her shower again and she swallowed hard. Deliberately, she wiped it from her mind and slipped under the spray.

By the time she made her way downstairs, she felt far more like herself. Finding Abi was the goal here so she had a job to do. The sooner Abi was home, the sooner they could all move on with their lives. Yeah, the future scared her but she was damned if she was going to let the fear rule her. She'd lost too much time with her family already.

From experience, it was best to speak to hotel receptionists after they dealt with the morning exodus of guests. So, in the meantime, she got a bit of breakfast and went back through Abi's address book once more. It was these unusual cash machine withdrawals that were getting to her. Sheelagh had rightly drawn attention to it and now Sam couldn't help but think it was pointing to something significant. That said, there definitely wasn't anybody living in that area that had any importance to Abi whatsoever. It was a puzzle and not one she appreciated.

All her internal speculation got her nowhere. Frustrated, she turned her attention to the phone book, identifying hotels in the area that Abi might have stayed at. She started at the most expensive and worked her way down to the lowliest B&B but she didn't have any luck. While many young women could fit Abi's description, most of the staff she spoke to seemed aware of the disappearance from the canvassing uniform had done and were categorical that they hadn't seen Abi. In one respect, that was good. It was a result; it was plain fact and she could cross those names off the list. However, it left her with no options by the end of it and she threw her pen aside in irritation once she'd come up blank.

A text from Sheelagh gently reminded her to eat some lunch and, on the basis that it made her smile, she complied with the advice. While the chicken soup was warming through, she stared at the pile of emails that Sheelagh had printed off for her. She knew full well that she was putting off reading them and Sheelagh's text had been yet another welcome distraction. Nevertheless, she couldn't put it off forever. Those emails might be the key to what had happened to Abi and, if so, she'd rather she uncovered it than the official investigating officers – if they were even bothering to investigate properly in the first damn place. So she ate her soup then took the pile of emails through to the living room and settled down on the sofa with them.

It didn't make for pleasant reading.

Most of them were messages back and forth with college friends but there was an underlying theme – complete hatred and misery. Sam knew how unhappy Abi had been but she'd shielded herself from the harsh reality of it for as long as possible. She couldn't do that anymore. Every single one of these emails was saturated with Abi's pain, frustration and loneliness. It was all the stuff that she'd tried to tell Sam but she hadn't been inclined to listen and it was the clearest sign yet that her hurt and this disappearance were all intertwined. Although she was keeping an open mind, Sam's gut feeling was still that Abi had left of her own accord and something had happened afterwards to keep her away. Reading these emails just cemented that, along with making her thoroughly ashamed of herself.

The more she read, the more responsible she felt. Was it any wonder that Abi had gone when she'd treated her so badly? It took her a while to realise that there was still something off in the emails though and, when it hit her, she squeezed her eyes shut to stem the tears. While Abi had been vocal about how unhappy she was at home, she hadn't told any one of her friends the reason why. Sheelagh's name hadn't come into it; the idea of a family unit hadn't been mentioned once. It was all abstract pain that her friends sympathised with but didn't understand because it wasn't specific enough for them. Most of them drifted away the more Abi talked to them. Why hadn't she just told the truth and gained a few more allies along the way? The answer struck Sam where it hurt and she found herself tossing the emails across the room and clambering up the stairs.

In Abi's room, she stared at everything her daughter had left behind. There was so much stuff neatly tidied away – her favourite clothes and films, even her books. It had surprised Sam a bit that Abi was such a reader, even if the hobby had dimmed a bit in the last few years with all the stuff about her father and this obsession with family, but it reminded her how bright her daughter was. Bright and miserable; solely because of her mother. Grinding her fingers into her forehead, she tried to quell the images of Abi's pain but she didn't succeed and spun around, sweeping the books from the shelves. It was an accident but it felt strangely cathartic and she deliberately pulled a section of DVDs onto the floor. Then it occurred to her that she hadn't searched the room thoroughly, not like a DS would normally do. She'd been too delicate, too wary. So she nudged the DVDs and books aside with her foot and cleared a space on the floor before methodically opening every case and cover she could get her hands on.

It didn't compute, really, how she ended up slumped underneath the window, cheeks sticky with tears. She must've been in some sort of stupor because she only really came out of it when the front door slammed.

'Hey, I'm home,' Sheelagh called.

That brought on a fresh tide of tears and Sam buried her head into her hands. Before she knew it, Sheelagh was on the floor beside her, cradling her again, and Sam just gave in. Gradually, the tears subsided and she became aware of Sheelagh's breath on her forehead. She forced herself to look up, straight into those loving blue eyes and she felt grounded for the first time in hours.

'What time is it?' she asked, her voice hoarse.

'Not long after three,' answered Sheelagh. 'Gina gave me the afternoon off. I'll tell you about it later. How about you tell me what happened?'

'I don't know,' she said honestly.

Sheelagh cupped her cheek. 'Did you read the emails?' When Sam nodded, she said, 'I'm sorry, darling, I should've done that.'

'No, it was down to me,' Sam muttered. 'I deserved to hear it.'

'Hear what?' Sheelagh pressed. 'I glanced through but it just seemed to be teenage rambling.'

Shaking her head, Sam said, 'She hates me. I've ruined everything for her. I've done nothing but cause her pain.'

'Hey, you haven't,' insisted Sheelagh, kissing her gently. 'You've been suffering yourself. I know that, I know you.'

For a moment, Sam stared deep into her eyes then searched out her lips desperately. She needed the physical comfort and Sheelagh was apparently willing to oblige, pulling her close and not letting her go until they needed to break for oxygen. Sam took a couple of long breaths, a question on the tip of her tongue.

'What is it?' Sheelagh asked softly.

Sam let out a snort. 'You always know, don't you?'

'I like to think I do,' replied Sheelagh. 'Talk to me, come on.'

'You know what I'm like,' Sam said finally. 'And you... You're so... You know, you're beautiful, kind, intelligent, there's nothing –'

'I love you,' interrupted Sheelagh. 'That's why I'm here. And, you're right, I know you. I know everything about you. When you're thinking about a case, you're completely focused. Your forehead creases, you look pretty scary. But when you're thinking about me...' Sheelagh paused and stroked her cheek. 'You bite your lip, you get this little smile on your face. You've never been able to hide it, I just didn't recognise it before. Don't try telling me you don't care because I know that's rubbish. You just don't know how to be this person you want to be, you don't know how to let people in. But you're learning, darling, I promise you.'

Sam blinked at her, feeling the love in every word. 'I'm scared.'

'I know,' Sheelagh answered.

'Of course you do,' she murmured.

'And maybe that's what scares you most,' added Sheelagh. Without giving her chance to think about that, she took her hand. 'Come on, I went shopping. You can help me unpack.'

The shift in tone took some adjusting to but maybe that was the point. Sam found herself hauled to her feet before she knew much about it and she followed Sheelagh down the stairs like an obedient puppy. There was big bag in the hallway, obviously more clothes, but she barely had chance to contemplate the ramifications of that when she was led to the kitchen to help unpack the shopping. It was the epitome of domestic, she realised, and it alarmed her a little bit. Nevertheless, she picked up the bag Sheelagh pointedly gestured to and began loading the food into the fridge.

'The kitchen's never seen this many vegetables,' she commented, earning a chuckle from Sheelagh. 'Well, actually, neither have I. What are you planning on doing with them exactly?'

'That's for me to know and you to find out,' Sheelagh retorted. 'If you've finished, you can put the kettle on.'

Sam smiled and followed the order. She went through the motions of making them both a cuppa then handed Sheelagh hers and nodded to the table. There were still some papers scattered around here from last night but, rather diplomatically, Sheelagh hadn't mentioned the emails strewn across the living room. That was another reason Sam loved her.

'So what are you doing back so soon?' Sam questioned.

'Used some of my charm on Gina,' said Sheelagh with a shrug. 'She agreed that I take the afternoon to help the investigation and gave me tomorrow off as well.'

Staring at her, Sam queried, 'Just like that?'

'You're not the only one with the gift of the gab,' Sheelagh replied.

'That, I know,' Sam said. 'But, come on, tell me the truth. What did you say to her?'

'I told the truth, that's all,' Sheelagh said. 'I said that I'd be as much use as a chocolate teapot if I couldn't help you out with the investigation and I'd take as much leave as I had owing. So she fights back, says I'll do that over her dead body and she's writing it up as operational activity.'

'Thank you, Gina,' said Sam quietly. 'So you went shopping and you went home to pick up a bag?'

'Yes,' Sheelagh confirmed, 'but I also went to the mini-mart where Abi made those two withdrawals and checked the CCTV. She was clearly visible at the time of the first withdrawal, the day that Craig was arrested. But, for the second withdrawal, the face is completely obscured. Whoever it is has a hood on, deliberately masking their face. Sure, the person's around the same height as Abi but that doesn't mean a great deal, does it?'

Sam sipped her tea. 'Course not. That's brilliant, Sheelagh, thank you.'

'Not just a pretty face, right?' Sheelagh retorted. 'There's something else. I spoke to the investigating officers about the possibility of a reconstruction the day after tomorrow. The opportunity cropped up when I updated them about the CCTV, I'm sorry I didn't discuss it with you first.'

'Don't worry, I trust you,' Sam told her. 'A reconstruction's a great idea. It might tell us that Abi did leave the clothes on the sandbank.'

'And if she didn't?' probed Sheelagh.

'If we find proof that she didn't, it's something the investigation team can't ignore,' Sam said. 'I just want some movement. I mean, if it's a phone call from her saying she won't come home because she hates me... I could take that, you know? There's no ambiguity, we can work with that. I need to know, that's all.'

Sheelagh took her hand. 'Sure you do, darling. We're making the right moves.'

'You are,' Sam argued. 'I'm bumbling around making a mess of things.'

'So what's new?' Sheelagh returned.

'Cheeky,' said Sam, though she was smiling. Massaging the back of Sheelagh's hand, she added, 'I'm just letting you stretch your detective muscles a bit.'

'Transfer to CID sounds interesting,' Sheelagh commented with a quirk of her eyebrows. 'Mind you, I hear the sergeants up there are a nightmare.'

'Couldn't agree more,' Sam answered. 'You wanna avoid it.'

'That's the intention,' said Sheelagh. 'Drink your tea then we can get this house tidied up. Honestly, I leave you alone for a few hours and you wreck the place. Remind me never to let you loose at mine.'

Sam grinned and finished her tea slowly. Even just having Sheelagh back had calmed her a little bit. In fact, she was alarmed by how much more in control she felt holding Sheelagh's hand like this. When they finished their drinks, they returned to Abi's bedroom and Sam winced at the carnage she'd caused.

'Were you looking for something in particular?' Sheelagh asked.

'Not especially,' she replied. 'I sort of lost it.'

'Well, you're allowed to,' Sheelagh said. 'Now, does Abi have any sort of system – alphabetical order or anything like that?'

'She's a little bit more haphazard than that,' Sam said with a chuckle. 'Let's just make it neat, yeah?'

Sheelagh tentatively crossed the threshold. 'Do you want to do this alone?'

Glancing over, Sam extended her hand. 'I'd actually prefer it if you stayed. You know, you might notice something I've missed.'

Although she obviously discerned the lie, Sheelagh didn't draw attention to it. Instead, she simply started picking up books, slotting them onto the shelf with her usual degree of care. Sam stood idly by for a minute before recognising she was staring and proceeding to pick up some of the scattered DVDs. Between the two of them, they got the room back in order within ten minutes. It was almost as if her little meltdown hadn't happened, yet Sam couldn't dismiss it that easily. She knew she'd lost it and if Sheelagh hadn't come home... She swallowed at the thought. They were already in too deep, weren't they?

Eventually, she looked around at the neat room. All the books, DVDs and trinkets had been returned to the shelves. The only two items still out of place now were the Christmas cards from Sheelagh and Glenn resting on the bed. Sam stared at them for a long time before slipping them into the bedside cabinet and turning back to the door.

'Living room,' she muttered.

Sheelagh followed her down the stairs and through into the living room then Sam halted. It was only thin pieces of paper scattered across the room down here but, for some reason, it signified more than the mess she'd caused upstairs. She sighed and kneeled down to start dragging them into piles. After a moment, Sheelagh joined her on the floor.

'You pass me them,' she said. 'I'll put them back in date order.'

Such a little thing to realise that she didn't want to look at the content again but, really, so very Sheelagh. Sam shot her a grateful smile and proceeded to gather up the emails and pass them over in clumps. When she was done, she stretched out her legs and watched Sheelagh slot the last couple of papers into her pile before pushing them away and inching across the carpet to her.

'Feeling better?' Sheelagh queried.

'I feel like an idiot,' she admitted.

Sheelagh reached to sweep some hair from her eyes. 'If there's one thing you're not... You're just under a lot of pressure, that's all, and I'm glad you're letting it out a bit. I want you to open up to me, I want you to feel like you can.'

'Of course I do,' Sam said, grasping her hand.

'Well, good,' replied Sheelagh. 'Now, I've got a cottage pie to make. Are you staying on the floor or what? I'm not letting you near a potato peeler, that's for sure. I don't fancy spending the evening in A&E.'

Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek. 'Have you got anything I can occupy my mind with then? I can't just sit watching you...' She tilted her head to the side. 'Actually, I think that sounds great.'

Swatting her, Sheelagh retorted, 'I need you to check through the phone records, there was an unidentified number and some long calls to a couple of people that you might be able to shed some light on.'

In truth, Sam was only half-listening. Her attention was on Sheelagh's lips at first and then the blush that snaked up her neck when she realised what was going on. It was stirring up all sorts of feelings that Sam had vowed to keep buttoned up, although she succumbed to the thrill of leaning forward and kissing her throat. Sheelagh's hands caught in her hair then she seemed to make a determined effort to steady her breathing. Sam wasn't fooled; she craved this reassurance that Sheelagh wanted her because she still couldn't quite believe it. Every once in a while she needed reminding. Drawing back, she raised her head and searched Sheelagh's face, finding her completely off-balance. Just the idea that she could do that made her smile – and not in a vindictive way either. God, this wasn't about power or conquest, it was just that she longed to make Sheelagh happy and feel the unique sensation of them both giving themselves to each other for a change. How she'd never truly had that suddenly perplexed her. Then apprehension flickered across Sheelagh's face and Sam let go. It was another reminder that Sheelagh probably wasn't as okay with all this as she made out and that, of course, was something they'd need to address at some point.

'Come on,' she said, dragging herself to her feet and extending a hand. 'I wanna watch you cooking.'

Sheelagh allowed herself to be pulled up. 'I didn't agree to that.'

'You didn't explicitly disagree,' Sam reminded her.

'You're looking at the phone records,' Sheelagh replied.

'I can multitask,' she argued, leading her into the kitchen. 'Anyway, it'll help the concentration.'

Chuckling, Sheelagh released her hand. 'I've heard it all now. Sit down, I'll get you those phone records.'

While Sam spread out the neatly-highlighted pieces of paper a couple of minutes later, Sheelagh moved to the put the radio on. It was eighties pop, the perfect accompaniment to what could be a typical evening in their home. Sam caught herself thinking like that and tried to stifle it but found she couldn't. All that depended on bringing Abi back safely though and, with that in mind, she forced herself to focus on the phone records.

As with the bank statements, Sheelagh had done a good job colour-coding. All Sam's contact was discounted in blue, mostly texts and short calls just to maintain the illusion she was on speaking terms with her daughter. Looking at the meagre markings now, Sam felt another wave of shame. It wasn't as though their face-to-face interactions had been anymore substantial and, again, she was struck by her failure as a mother. It sobered her until she remembered she had a job to do and continued reading. Most numbers were identified as friends and relatives, with Caroline calling once a week at least and making Sam smile. Her sister always was more on the ball with that kind of thing than she was. Then again, she did have a husband and a less-demanding job, but that was by choice. When had Sam ever put Abi first, beyond vowing to quit her job after the Glenn revelations? That was a one-off and something she found herself relieved she hadn't been forced to follow through on. But, then, wasn't that as much to do with Sheelagh as anything else? If she accepted that she'd been in love with her even then, it wasn't such a leap to accept that leaving her had been at the back of her mind.

A hand rested on her shoulder. 'You've gone again.'

She looked up, startled that the mince and potatoes were bubbling away on the hob when, the last she'd seen, everything was still in bags on the counter. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't apologise,' Sheelagh said. 'Have you had any luck with these?'

With difficulty, Sam glanced back to the phone records. 'I've no idea who this mystery number is. It doesn't ring a bell. I'm assuming it's a pay-as-you-go?'

'Unregistered,' Sheelagh confirmed. 'Nothing in her address book, nothing popping up on the internet, and there's something interesting about the dates, did you notice?'

'No,' she admitted.

Squeezing her shoulder, Sheelagh said, 'Abi only starts exchanging calls with this number after Craig Olson's arrest, so after the first unusual cash withdrawal.'

'Nothing about this is striking me as coincidental,' Sam answered, looking in closer detail at the lines marked in red. 'They're lengthy calls, aren't they? I mean, are we thinking about this backwards? Is this one of her punters from the website? Someone she got too pally with?'

'There's nothing in the website correspondence to suggest that and Sian Hicks has been fairly categorical that it was just an online thing,' reasoned Sheelagh. 'I'm taking it there was nothing in her emails that pointed to that conclusion?'

Sam exhaled. 'She had a separate bank account. What's to say she doesn't have another email address?'

'But there's one associated with the website,' Sheelagh said. 'Why not use that?'

'Okay, all right.' Reaching up for her hand, she continued, 'If she has planned this out then it's her accomplice, isn't it? Someone who she trusts enough to help her hide away, help her run away. But it doesn't make sense. She's got no friends in the area and, if we discount the idea that it's someone from the website, then what does that leave?'

'Misdirection?' Sheelagh suggested. 'Abi's clever.'

'She is,' Sam conceded, 'and that means it could be anyone and that the lead means nothing. And that doesn't make sense in itself. If she really wanted to leave, she could've done that without the theatrics,' she went on. 'The money in her savings account, added to the money in her current account... It could've lasted her a while. If this was a serious attempt to get away from me then why not do it properly?'

'Because it wasn't,' said Sheelagh after a moment. 'If Abi did this of her own accord then we were right the other night – she's making a point.'

Glancing up, Sam said, 'And we also agreed she's made it now so where the hell is she?'

Sheelagh kissed her forehead. 'Whether it's an accomplice or something more sinister than that, it still boils down to the same thing.'

'We find out who it was and we're making progress,' Sam concluded for her.

'I've passed on the details of the phone to the investigating officers,' Sheelagh said. 'Maybe they can find out who bought it, or at least when. If it was just before the first call then that's deliberate, isn't it?'

'So we're back to waiting,' Sam muttered.

Enveloping her in a hug, Sheelagh replied, 'We've got the reconstruction. I promise you, we're not giving up. Another cuppa?'

Sam chuckled and tried to ignore the fact her cheeks were damp. 'Tea doesn't power the world, you know.'

'Doesn't do a bad job though,' said Sheelagh.

She found she didn't have a response to that so, instead, she just watched her pottering around the kitchen, checking on the food as the kettle boiled. Then the doorbell rang and startled the pair of them. Sam automatically left her chair, fully aware of Sheelagh's presence behind her as she reached the front door. Yanking it open, she was almost relieved to find a familiar face on the step.

'Eva, what are you doing here?' she asked.

'I've only just heard about Abi,' Eva explained. 'I wanted to... Oh, hi, Sheelagh.'

'Come in, I'm just making a brew,' Sheelagh said. 'Sam, let her in.'

She was a few moments behind them and only really moved when a hand rested on her arm. It had the desired effect of moving her to the side and Eva slipped past, closing the door behind her. Finally, Sam roused herself and examined Eva's face. It was only an old friend come to check how she was. There was no malice or point-scoring and, more to the point, she certainly didn't have to mask her relationship with Sheelagh in front of her old colleague. So she stretched a hand out and entwined their fingers, drawing strength from the contact.

'Let me guess,' Sheelagh said good-naturedly, 'you want me to finish making the tea.'

'Course – what else?' Sam retorted. 'Did you buy biscuits?'

'She's got you doing her shopping?' Eva asked Sheelagh. 'Talk about milking it.'

As the smile on Sheelagh's face grew, she squeezed Sam's fingers once more then disentangled herself. Sam watched her disappear in the direction of the kitchen then managed to turn her attention to Eva. Naturally, as a copper, she'd watched that with interest and there was a quiet smile on her face. Sam rolled her eyes and motioned her into the living room, gesturing to the armchair. Sitting down, Eva opened her mouth then seemed to think better of it and simply smiled. That gave Sam the opportunity to regroup and she took her time about it. Really, she was waiting until Sheelagh returned and she got the impression that Eva knew that.

'How do you take your tea?' Sheelagh called from the kitchen.

'Milk, one sugar,' Eva shouted back.

Now the silence was broken, Sam queried, 'How did you find out?'

'Mickey called Jack for one of their catch-ups,' explained Eva. 'He weren't gossiping but he thought I'd already know.'

'I'm sorry,' she said honestly. 'My head's been all over the place the last couple of days.'

Eva snorted. 'Don't worry about that. I'm more bothered about you.'

She shrugged and didn't respond, instead sitting down on the sofa and waiting for Sheelagh. It was only another minute before she appeared with the tea tray but it felt like much longer. Sheelagh deposited it on the coffee table and handed Eva her cup then she hesitated. Sam appreciated the gesture but she really didn't care about keeping things anywhere near professional anymore. Sheelagh read that in her face, bringing their cups over to the sofa and settling down beside her. Taking her cup, Sam leaned sideways and Sheelagh deftly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It undoubtedly looked as natural as it felt because Eva just watched them indulgently.

'So what's going on with Abi then?' she questioned finally. 'Are they treating her as a runaway? Mickey didn't seem too sure.'

'Yeah,' Sam said as Sheelagh tightened her embrace, 'they've downgraded it from an active search to a typical misper on the grounds that she hates my –'

'That she's upset,' Sheelagh interjected.

Sam glanced sideways to find her forehead creased and understood the look on her face perfectly. It was probably the same unreserved affection Sam had offered her when she was distraught over her affair with Des and the pregnancy. If it was possible, she eased her body further into Sheelagh's then managed to look back to Eva.

'You know why Abi was upset with me,' she said steadily.

'Well, yeah,' Eva replied, 'but I thought...'

'This is new,' Sheelagh supplied when she trailed off.

'Very new,' added Sam.

Eva glanced between them. 'How new are we talking here?'

'Three days,' they said in unison.

Snorting, Eva sipped her tea and rested back in her chair. 'You certainly took your time, the pair of you. So you reckon it's like last time then? Abi's done a bunk to make you try and do something you weren't keen on.'

'Maybe,' Sam said, 'but I'm not convinced.'

'We're not completely convinced,' Sheelagh amended. 'There are some things that don't add up.'

'Like what?' Eva asked.

Sheelagh checked her watch. 'Are you in a rush? I've a cottage pie due out any minute.'

'I wouldn't wanna intrude,' Eva answered, though her real feelings were evident in her eyes.

'Stay, please,' Sheelagh insisted. 'I've made enough to feed a small army. I was only gonna freeze what's left anyway, make sure madam here has a healthy meal every now and then.'

'Yeah, stay,' said Sam, 'unless you've got the kids to be getting back for or something.'

'No, no, they're with Paul tonight,' Eva said. 'Well, if you're sure...'

A couple of minutes later they were all sat around the kitchen table, gorgeous plates of food piled high in front of them. It occurred to Sam with her first mouthful that she'd be lucky not to double her weight if she let Sheelagh do all the cooking in the future. She'd be forced to balance it out with frozen pizzas and dubious frozen meals or she'd be tempted to work from home every day of the week.

As they ate, they filled Eva in on a few of the discrepancies with Abi's disappearance. Cataloguing it all aloud helped convince Sam they were onto something, although she let Sheelagh do most of the talking. She instinctively knew that Sheelagh was more reasoned about all of this and came across as completely calm. Actually, Sam was content to watch her talking and was caught staring by both her companions more than once. She didn't much care. If she'd been this open before now then maybe things would be different.

'You've convinced me it's not on the level,' Eva said when they were done. 'From my experience with Abi, she blows up, yeah? She wouldn't disappear to make a point and not come back to see it made, that's not her style.'

'Exactly,' Sheelagh said. 'It's just a load of little things like that. I don't believe this is straightforward.'

'And she's out to prove it all by herself,' Sam added with a touch of pride.

They both glanced at her but it was Sheelagh's penetrating gaze that she met and held. Then she cleared her throat and began gathering the plates together. She vaguely heard Sheelagh offer Eva another drink but she must've refused because the next thing she was putting on her coat. Sam roused herself from her stupor and announced she'd see Eva to the door. Sheelagh, diplomatic as ever, said her goodbyes right there and stayed in the kitchen to wash up as Sam accompanied Eva into the hallway.

'If there's anything you need, you know where I am,' Eva said.

'Thanks,' she replied. 'I do appreciate it and I'm sorry I didn't call.'

'You've got a lot going on,' Eva retorted, swinging her head back in the direction of the kitchen. 'I'll pencil in a more convenient time to tell you I told you so.'

'Probably best,' Sam returned with a tired smile.

'Now, you let her look after you, okay?' Eva questioned as she pulled her into a hug. 'And don't you dare hurt her. You're made for each other.'

'I know that,' she answered, 'I do. I'll see you soon, okay? Once we find Abi.'

Nodding, Eva slipped out of the door and left the house in relative silence. Sam stood in the hallway and strained her eyes for the sounds of Sheelagh washing up but there were none and, after a minute, the stereo started playing softly.

The moment Sam recognised the song, her feet took her back to the doorway. Sheelagh had poured them both a glass of wine and was waiting for her on the sofa. This time Sam wanted the privilege of holding her so she took one gulp of her wine then urged Sheelagh into her arms. They stayed there floating off to the lyrics of the song, Sam's arms wrapped around her neck and her nose buried in Sheelagh's hair.

"I love you, I adore you, I lay my life before you,

I'll have you want me more and more,

And finally it seems my lonely days are through,

I've been waiting for you..."

The CD cycled through to the end but neither of them seemed inclined to move. Sam had her eyes closed and was more relaxed than she had a right to be until Sheelagh shifted slightly and the movement sent a spasm of desire through her body. All of a sudden, she was aware of everything – her breasts pressed up against Sheelagh, the way Sheelagh's hand was tracing circles on her knee and the powerful urge Sam felt to kiss the exposed sliver of skin underneath her ear. Her hold on Sheelagh's neck tightened and she let out a little sigh that probably couldn't be misinterpreted. Sure enough, Sheelagh shifted a little and Sam was convinced that she arched her hips a touch.

To dilute the tension, Sam asked, 'Is there anything I can get you? I feel like I owe you after that meal, it was gorgeous.'

'I like cooking,' Sheelagh said. 'And I like seeing you eat properly.'

'Have you spoken to Connor in the last couple of days?' Sam questioned after a moment. 'I don't want him to start hating me again for stealing his mum.'

'I called him when I left the station,' answered Sheelagh. 'Don't worry, he doesn't hate you. He's got the house to himself, he's probably your biggest fan right now.'

Sam chuckled. 'Did you put him up to apologising to me?'

'No,' Sheelagh said, twisting her head for a little kiss then settling back against her. 'He sprung that on me as well. The look on your face when he invited you out to dinner though... I'll never forget it.'

'It felt like you were ganging up on me,' she admitted softly.

'Well, I would've hit you round the head with an anvil,' returned Sheelagh, 'except I didn't want to scare you off completely.'

'You knew how I felt,' Sam objected.

'Mmm,' Sheelagh agreed, entwining their fingers, 'and I know you, remember?'

Sam kissed her head. 'Fair point.'

They stayed like that for another half an hour or so. It could've been longer; Sam lost track. All she knew was that she felt completely comfortable again, and that only ever happened with Sheelagh. It was bizarre but no less accurate because of that.

Eventually, she suggested, 'Why don't you go run yourself a bath? You've actually done a day's work while I've been lazing around here. I'll do the washing up.'

'You don't have to do that,' Sheelagh said.

'It's my house,' she retorted. 'I'll do what I like.'

Sheelagh laughed and swung her legs onto the carpet then turned to kiss her deeply. Sam braced herself on the arm of the sofa, winding her other arm around Sheelagh's waist. Tonight, it was her turn to accidentally overstep the mark, practically bringing Sheelagh onto her lap and holding her steady with both hands. When she withdrew, Sheelagh's desire was burning in her eyes and Sam couldn't catch her breath. Gradually, though, she became aware of the inappropriate locations of her hands and flushed. That brought them both back to earth and Sheelagh slipped off the sofa, rubbing her neck ferociously. Sam found it incredibly sexy then battled the thought from her face as she stood up as well.

'I think I will have that bath,' Sheelagh said. 'If you really don't mind.'

Away from the intense intimacy of the sofa, Sam felt able to kiss her again with the understanding it wasn't about to lead to anything else. Sheelagh relaxed into her arms then finally withdrew with a smile and disappeared out of the door. Sam listened to her climbing the stairs then shook herself and went through to the kitchen. Cleaning the plates was therapeutic and at least took her mind away from the place it wanted to linger.

It wasn't that late but she was pretty tired. She suspected it was the emotional exhaustion she'd suffered during the afternoon and all she really wanted was to curl up in bed in Sheelagh's arms. Once she realised that she still wasn't able to dull the sexual thoughts that conjured, she swallowed another glass of wine right off the bat to numb her senses. That helped.

Slowly, she tidied the kitchen up then switched everything off and climbed the stairs. She could still hear the odd burble of water as Sheelagh moved around and it took a lot of self-restraint for her to change into her pyjamas and keep away from the door. By the time Sheelagh crossed the hall, she was sat leafing through a book.

'What's that?' Sheelagh questioned.

'Short stories of Katherine Mansfield,' she answered, replacing it on the dresser.

Sheelagh raised an eyebrow. 'Seriously?'

'I've never made it through the book,' she confessed. 'I need to brush my teeth.'

While she was going through the motions of that, she couldn't help but stare into the bath, picturing Sheelagh in there not ten minutes ago with bubbles barely concealing her body. It was torture and Sam wasn't sure how to combat it. Then she forced herself to remember Abi, missing and perhaps floating downstream in the river, and that allowed her to rinse her mouth out with a clean mind and return to the bedroom without feeling as though she was about to crash through any boundaries.

Sheelagh was already curled up on the far side of the bed with her hand tucked underneath her chin. Flicking the light off, Sam padded across the room and slipped under the covers, searching for Sheelagh's warmth and finding it without difficulty. She wrapped her leg around Sheelagh's and found her lips before clasping her head underneath her chin and holding tight. She felt Sheelagh's little chuckle reverberate around the bed.

'Tell me something,' Sheelagh said finally. 'That night you went out with Eva – did you spend all night talking about me?'

'Yes,' she said honestly. 'Is that the wrong answer?'

Sheelagh snorted. 'Not one bit. I'm glad you weren't completely alone.'

'It didn't really help,' she admitted. 'I think I needed this.'

'I didn't even know I did,' Sheelagh murmured. 'That puts you one step ahead of me.'

Sam pressed a kiss to her forehead. 'Have we got a plan for tomorrow?'

'Yep,' replied Sheelagh.

'Good,' she said softly. 'Night.'


This time, when she awoke she was fully aware of the nightmare. It gripped her in a vice, dragging her underwater with a limp body being swept along with the current. She thrashed around trying to escape then, ultimately, became aware of being cocooned in Sheelagh's embrace. Forcing herself back to the surface, she sought refuge in Sheelagh's arms until she fell back into a fitful sleep. Even so, she remembered the nightmare come morning.

'I'm sorry,' she muttered, clasping Sheelagh's hand tightly.

'Shush, it's fine.' Stroking her cheek, Sheelagh placed a delicate kiss on her lips then said, 'I just wonder what you did about this when I wasn't around.'

'Got up,' she said with a wry smile in the dim light. 'Usually went into work early.'

'Oh, Sam,' Sheelagh whispered.

For some reason, that set her off with tears she didn't know she was keeping locked inside. Sheelagh held her for the duration then didn't say a word about it, just turning her around and holding her tightly until it seemed she fell asleep again. Maybe she did because the room was full of daylight when she finally roused herself. Manoeuvring onto her back, she slanted her head to watch Sheelagh lightly slumbering. She was stunning and, for a minute, Sam couldn't believe this was real. She thought this was the dream; that the reality of being able to reach out and touch Sheelagh was far from her. Tentatively, she rested a hand on her hips and massaged circles through her pyjamas until Sheelagh stirred.

'As far as ways to wake up go,' Sheelagh said softly, 'I like that one. Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' she answered. 'Thanks to you.'

Sheelagh smiled at her. 'I didn't do anything.'

'No, you did,' Sam objected. 'You've been brilliant.'

'You don't need to thank me,' replied Sheelagh, caressing her cheek. 'You've done the same for me.'

'Not quite,' she said.

'Well, you would've if I'd let you,' Sheelagh retorted.

Sam brought her close enough to kiss before asking, 'So what's the plan for today?'

'I was going to nip into work first,' said Sheelagh. 'I want to chase up any progress on the pay-as-you-go phone and have a chat about the reconstruction. Unless you want to do that?'

She shook her head. 'I'm sure you've got plans for me worked into all this. Carry on.'

Grinning, Sheelagh answered, 'I thought you might want to check through the phone records and contact the people Abi was definitely speaking to. If we're running with the accomplice theory, it might be that suspicious number or it might be someone else. You've got some tangible things to ask this time, not just general enquiries.'

'Do you think I'm the best person to do that?' Sam questioned.

'You're her mum,' Sheelagh said firmly. 'Whatever Abi might've told them, you've every right to try and find her. Showing that you care might persuade them to give information.'

'And if it doesn't?' she pressed.

Sheelagh stroked her hair. 'Then I'll play bad cop again.' When Sam's lips twitched, she kissed her again. 'Watch it. Anyway, that should take care of the morning and then we'll see where we're at. What do you think?'

'That you're beautiful,' Sam said.

'Real charmer, aren't you?' queried Sheelagh, raising an eyebrow.

Sam bit her lip. 'Does that mean I can talk you into making breakfast?'

Chuckling, Sheelagh said, 'So that's your game.'

'One of them,' she replied. 'How about it then?'

'Sure, seeing as it's you,' Sheelagh answered. 'Come on.'

In the kitchen a few minutes later, Sam made the coffee while Sheelagh cooked them bacon sandwiches. They worked like a well-oiled machine, dodging out of each other's way with the radio humming in the background. Even so, Sam did find her mind wandering again when she straightened Sheelagh's pyjamas to cover up the bare shoulder. The simple touch seemed to do something to both of them and Sheelagh was flushed as she turned around. It was strange – in bed they'd erected these unspoken boundaries that they knew neither of them would to disrupt until they'd talked but, out of the bedroom, everything seemed heightened. What had happened on the sofa last night and the simple task of making breakfast together put her mind in such an inappropriate place that she knew, instinctively, they were going to be in trouble before much longer. But not just yet, she reminded herself as they ate.

Sheelagh went to get dressed while Sam washed up the breakfast plates. She was trying to focus her mind on the task Sheelagh had set her for the day, knowing it was the right course of action but dreading it nonetheless. When she'd spoken to these people before, they were pretty scornful of her and, from reading the emails, she knew why. Still, she wanted Abi home more than she cared about her pride and that's what she needed to remember.

'Have you seen my keys?' Sheelagh called.

'I hid them,' she shouted back then walked through to the hallway. 'Actually, that's your trick.'

'Very clever,' said Sheelagh, turning around. She was still searching her coat pockets and finally came up with her keys. 'Whoops.'

'If you ask me, you don't wanna leave,' Sam commented.

'Lucky I didn't ask you,' Sheelagh retorted. Stepping over, she kissed her briefly. 'I'll see you back here no later than twelve, okay?'

Sam just nodded her agreement and kept her eyes on Sheelagh's gorgeous figure until the door closed. She immediately felt the absence and sighed, returning to the kitchen for another coffee. Just when she became the sort of woman who watched her partner off to the work and felt lonely about it, she wasn't quite sure.

The conversations with Abi's friends were as fractious as they were fruitless. However, Sam didn't get the impression she needed to deploy Sheelagh as back-up. From the conversations she'd had, she suspected that the friends were more irritated than anything else at the idea that Abi had plotted something and not told them. Sam could easily comprehend that.

With her official job for the morning done, she tidied the house up a bit. She found herself back in the bedroom, straightening the covers and resting her hand on Sheelagh's pillow. Without her physical presence in the room, her brain took off and she was assaulted with images that could – would – become reality if she had anything to do with it. She wasn't used to craving something so badly and it had been a long time since she'd had anything close to a fulfilling sexual encounter. Sleeping with Cavanaugh had been an attempt to forget about Sheelagh and, as such, it had been completely forgettable. Course, it didn't help that he was using her but, even so, it should've been better than it was. What terrified her was messing this up. Making love to a woman wasn't something she had any experience of and the gulf between desire and reality was huge. Pulling Sheelagh onto her lap last night had been exhilarating and, maybe if they'd gone with it, everything would've occurred naturally. But now she had time to think about it again and she was on the verge of panic. They needed to discuss this or she'd inadvertently screw things up. It wasn't possible; it was downright inevitable.

By lunchtime, she'd made a decision. When she heard the front door open, she jumped up from the sofa and accosted Sheelagh in the hallway.

'We need to talk,' she said. Seeing Sheelagh's flicker of fear, she realised how that sounded and quickly said, 'Sorry, that was a bad choice of words. I just... Let me buy you lunch or something. How do you fancy a walk in the park?'

'A walk in the park?' Sheelagh repeated, looking completely baffled. 'Why not just eat here?'

'No, I can't have this conversation here,' she answered. 'Please, can we –'

Sheelagh held up a hand. 'Sure. Come on, do you wanna drive?'

'I'd rather you did,' she said and smiled as Sheelagh's shoulders relaxed.

It was deliberate on two levels. Thanks to her initial proclamation, Sheelagh was on edge before they'd started. Allowing her to drive told her they were coming home together and that meant the usual connotations of 'we need to talk' didn't apply. So she wanted to calm Sheelagh down, yes, but it was also about grounding herself. Knowing that they needed to have this conversation didn't make it any less awkward and she could do with the time to work out how to begin. That much was obvious from the way she'd startled Sheelagh before she'd even managed to get inside the house.

However, once in the car, she recognised that they needed to get business out of the way too. So she asked, 'Any luck with the phone records?'

'The shop has no record of who bought the phone,' Sheelagh answered. 'Paid for in cash, no CCTV available, shop assistant doesn't remember anything. I'm sorry, darling.'

Sam stretched a hand onto her knee. 'Actually, that makes sense. It's careful, isn't it? Deliberate. The phone was likely bought for the explicit purpose of communicating with Abi. It might not bring us closer to who bought it but it's something tangible that suggests... Oh, I don't know. Anything else?'

'Not much,' said Sheelagh. 'The reconstruction's at eleven tomorrow morning. They're shooting in the dark a little bit as far as timeframe. As you know, there's no CCTV on the surrounding streets so we couldn't be sure Abi was even down there.'

'Eleven,' she said with difficulty. 'What about –'

'Comes under the remit of Family Liaison Officer,' Sheelagh cut in.

'Great,' she said quietly. 'Thanks.'

They picked up sandwiches from a deli near the park and wandered through the smattering of leaves that had fallen from the trees in recent days. It struck Sam suddenly that she wanted to hold Sheelagh's hand and, while it might not look too unusual for two women to be holding hands, she was ashamed to realise she still cared what people might think. It wasn't embarrassment over their relationship; more just the fact that she valued her privacy and she didn't want anyone else having an opinion on her and Sheelagh. After all, the opinion of Neil Manson had nearly crushed them before they'd got started and she was sure some of the more odious members of the team at Sun Hill would enjoy fresh ammunition against her. She might be on better terms with Phil these days but Debbie McAllister was a different matter for a start and Manson could still stab her in the back. It could also be seen as unprofessional, even if one of the uniform sergeants had married a DC not a fortnight ago. It'd be a different standard for her and Sheelagh; she was sure of it.

Sitting down on a secluded bench, they ate in silence. Sheelagh was still anxious, Sam knew that, and she deliberately brushed her hand against her leg to reassure her. They'd bought a bottle of water to share and, once their stomachs were full and the bottle empty, the silence stretched painfully. Sam balled up the paper bags and walked to deposit them in the nearest bin. When she returned to the bench, Sheelagh's forehead was creased. It was enough to make her leap forward into the conversation.

'Okay, listen, I've gone about this badly,' she began, 'but what else is new? I thought we needed to talk out of the house and before I lost my nerve.'

Sheelagh turned and rested her shoulder against the bench. 'What are we talking about exactly?'

Swallowing, Sam forced herself to twist and face her. 'I love you, I do. This isn't about that.'

'Then what?' Sheelagh queried softly in a way that made her stomach flip. She was nervous and affectionate and intoxicating all at once and Sam wondered how the hell she managed it. One day she'd have to ask that as well. 'Sam – what? What are we doing here?'

'Last night,' she said slowly, 'I wanted to... Look, I might've been a goner since the first time I saw you but...'

When she trailed off, Sheelagh tilted her head to the side. 'That's a bold suggestion.'

'I think it's true,' she answered. 'I haven't been the same since you arrived at the nick, you can ask anyone. Whatever started happened from the moment you pitched in to help. I can't imagine what my life would be if you weren't in it.'

Sheelagh licked her lips. 'The same goes. I mean, I don't know when it started for me but –'

'Exactly, though,' Sam interjected. 'It's different for you. Whatever you say, I can't believe that you're okay with all this. You don't click your fingers and work it out just like that.'

'Well, what did you do?' Sheelagh asked.

She sighed. 'I went down to the river and thought it over. But I knew,' she added with a grimace, 'I knew right then that the reason you hadn't told me about the baby before was because...'

'I felt the same,' Sheelagh supplied softly.

'You know, I tried my best to ignore that idea,' Sam went on, holding Sheelagh's gaze. 'I talked myself out of it but... Well, I was right, wasn't I?'

Sheelagh inclined her head. 'Yeah, darling, you were. That scares you.'

Shrugging, she said, 'Being right shouldn't scare me. But, look, I wasn't carrying nearly as much baggage as you. For me, it was as simple as recognising that I'd been in love with you for months.'

'It wasn't though,' Sheelagh reasoned. 'You accepted it, sure, but it wasn't simple by any stretch. You didn't think it could ever happen and you threw yourself into looking after me, partly to hide away from it.'

'I was trying to do what was best,' Sam argued. 'I didn't think you could handle this.'

'And maybe I couldn't then,' Sheelagh agreed with a little smile, 'but a lot's changed.'

'Maybe,' said Sam. 'You know, maybe not. In a crisis, everything feels different. Trust me on that.'

'This isn't a reaction to Abi's disappearance,' answered Sheelagh. Glancing around the park, she gingerly touched her hand. 'If you want me to lay my cards on the table, I will. Yes, I'm nervous,' she continued, 'but I love you and I know how I feel. I know what you're worried about, I'm not an idiot.'

Sam grimaced and made a conscious effort not to turn away. 'I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone,' she admitted, earning a shiver from Sheelagh. 'And, yeah, that scares me. I don't know how you're dealing with this, I don't understand.'

For a few moments, Sheelagh was silent. 'I told you what Lance said, about it being a waste of energy to fight it. That's how I feel when I'm with you. Sure, I have wobbles but I know that this is the most...complete relationship I've ever had. And, yeah, Sam, I want you too. Last night on the sofa, I would've gladly... It scares me too. Not as much as it scares you though.'

'I don't want to lose you,' she murmured. 'I'm gonna screw this up, it's just a matter of when, and if we –'

'This is new to both of us,' Sheelagh interrupted, resting a hand on her shoulder. 'I trust you; I need you to trust me as well.'

'I do,' Sam answered. 'I just feel like we're moving too fast, that's all. Then I feel like we're not moving fast enough. I don't know where my head's at. And I can't go back to not talking about it,' she added vehemently. 'I want to but I can't.'

'Well, I'm glad about that,' Sheelagh said. 'Listen, darling, I don't have the answers. I've no more idea than you what'll happen next. Finding Abi and bringing her home for you... That's what I'm focused on and, when other ideas pop into my head, I'm doing my best to ignore them. It doesn't mean they don't exist,' she insisted. 'It doesn't mean that I'm not attracted to you or that I'm letting you think I have feelings for you when I –'

'No, I know that,' cut in Sam firmly. 'I just needed it out in the open. I needed to...'

'Talk,' Sheelagh concluded. Then she looked around the busy park and muttered, 'All I want right now is to kiss you, I hope you know that.'

'Likewise,' Sam replied. 'Sorry.'

Sheelagh chuckled. 'No, you made the right choice. If we were at home right now then what I'm about to say would be pretty redundant.'

'What?' Sam questioned.

'We'll find Abi and then we can...' Sheelagh trailed off and a flush crept up her neck. 'I want this to be about us,' she continued. 'It has to be love, not fear or pain. But don't ever think I don't want this as much as you do because it's driving me round the twist, I promise you that.'

Sam couldn't help but smile. 'Okay.'

'Can we go home then?' Sheelagh asked. 'I still want to kiss you and I'm not sure I can do that here.'

Clearing her throat, Sam rose and extended a hand. 'I think that can be arranged.'

It was fortunate that, although Sheelagh released her fingers the moment she stood, she hooked their arms together as they walked through the park. That was acceptable somehow and it gave Sam the strength to put one foot in front of the other. She was also buoyed by the conversation – all they had to do was find Abi and they could start moving forward. It wasn't as if she needed another incentive to find her daughter but it was certainly an additional factor.

They drove home unbearably close and the first thing they did when they got home was succumb to a languid kiss in the hallway. It was Sam pressed up against the wall as Sheelagh kissed her senseless and it was exquisite that they both knew where the boundary was. It meant that when Sam's knuckles brushed Sheelagh's breast, they both inhaled sharply and left it there. They ended up slumped against the wall, closer than anybody had a right to be, and Sam felt simultaneously aroused and sated. It didn't make sense but, then, nothing about them did.

Detaching, Sheelagh kissed her forehead. 'I'll put the kettle on.'

Sam grinned and followed her along the hallway like a puppy. She stopped short by the answering machine as she noticed it flashing and pressed 'play'.

'It's Hugh. Listen, I've only just heard about Abi. If there's anything –'

His voice was strangled as she deleted the message. Looking up, she found Sheelagh staring at her.

'I don't need his help,' she explained. 'I've got you.'

It was said sincerely and without forethought but the effect it had on Sheelagh was profound. Once again, Sam found herself embroiled in one of those breathless kisses and she momentarily marvelled at the fact that they'd only made it a few paces along the hall before giving into it again. Quickly, she banished that thought: Sheelagh's hands gripped her rear and her tongue probed into her mouth. Hugh Wallis could go to hell, Sam realised. All she'd ever need in the way of support came from the woman whose knee had just teased her legs apart.


They spent a bizarrely pleasant evening preparing for the reconstruction.

Sam managed to keep her hands off Sheelagh long enough for them to go through what was likely to happen and to recap everything they'd learned in the last few days. It irritated, but didn't surprise, her to learn that the investigating officers seemed inclined to brush off all the possibilities about the cash withdrawal anomaly and the pay-as-you-go mobile as her overactive imagination. Although Sheelagh didn't explicitly say it, Sam got the impression that she'd been angrily fighting her corner over the last couple of days and getting nowhere. That, of course, only made Sam's gratitude grow and it led to a twenty minute interlude where they were stretched out on the sofa together with hands roaming in all sorts of inappropriate places while she thanked her for the faith she'd shown in their theory that all wasn't as it seemed.

When they broke apart, Sheelagh was flushed and her clothes gaping flesh. Just as she had first thing, Sam straightened her attire but this time her hand lingered above Sheelagh's breast.

'I was gonna make a pasta bake,' Sheelagh murmured huskily.

'Anything I can do?' Sam questioned then she smirked at the flicker of desire on Sheelagh's face. 'I meant in the kitchen.'

'Stay out of it, probably,' she retorted. 'I won't be long.'

She kept her word and while the pasta bake was cooking they watched the news while curled up together on the sofa like an old married couple. That comparison crossed Sam's mind and she couldn't help but yield to it. If only Abi was safely upstairs this would be perfect but, until she was, the illusion of complete happiness was all she could manage.

After they ate, they retreated back to the sofa with a glass of wine each. Sam ended up reclined along the sofa with Sheelagh's resting against her while she watched something mindless on television. Her own attention had drifted back to the reconstruction and where Abi might be staying tonight. Nothing they'd uncovered gave real clues either way and the only thing she took refuge in was that she absolutely hadn't gone into the river. She was certain of that by now.

'I think you need to sleep,' Sheelagh said suddenly.

Sam blinked and focused on her warm smile. Hesitantly, she asked, 'Does what we discussed earlier mean you're sleeping in Abi's room?'

'Do you want me to?' Sheelagh queried.

'I don't think I could sleep without you,' she admitted.

Sheelagh turned towards her fully, hand stroking her cheek. 'Is this you giving in?'

'No, this is me being honest,' she replied.

'I'll take that as well,' answered Sheelagh. 'Go get ready for bed, I'll see you up there.'

As she went through her evening routine, Sam couldn't help but picture the future. That's what it was though – a future fantasy. It meant that when Sheelagh finally slipped into bed beside her, she didn't feel any pressure beyond the physical presence of a body pressed against her own. She kissed her then hooked her leg around her hips and felt the same arch of desire that she'd felt last night on the sofa.

'Love you,' Sheelagh murmured.

'I love you too,' replied Sam.


Dawn crept over the bedroom and Sam up from a patchy sleep completely alert. She knew the reconstruction was playing on her mind and whereas, in the past, she would've gone downstairs and started her day early, this time she tucked herself into Sheelagh's embrace and smiled at the way her sleeping girlfriend – she loved thinking that word – imperceptibly shifted closer. It didn't help her get back but to sleep but it kept her calm until the sun had completely risen outside and Sheelagh began to stir.

'How long have you been awake?' Sheelagh asked.

'A while,' she said honestly. 'I couldn't sleep.'

Sheelagh somehow drew her closer. 'Come here.'

Until Sam's stomach rumbled loudly, they were comfortably silent. Then Sheelagh laughed and threw back the covers.

'I'll make us some eggs,' she said. 'Why don't you shower?'

'Yeah,' Sam muttered but her voice shook.

Although she'd been halfway out of the bed, Sheelagh was back in an instant. 'Today's a good thing. Someone might've seen something, they might remember. It's a chance, darling, okay? I know it's not in your nature but focus on hope. Do it for me.'

'You mentioned eggs,' Sam said after a moment.

Sheelagh kissed her. 'So I did. I'll see you down there.'

A shower helped in some respects. It made her feel more herself, more able to deal with whatever the hell the day threw at her. However, what really centred her was going downstairs to her kitchen and finding Sheelagh there cooking her breakfast again. Something they hadn't discussed yesterday was the fact that Sheelagh had practically moved in. That was unsustainable, of course, and there was so much to work through on both sides. Abi's disappearance was the glaring obstacle but there was also Siobhan, Declan and the rest of Sheelagh's family to consider. Added to which, it was a little soon to be thinking of making any big jumps. However, the trouble was, it didn't feel too soon. At some point, Sheelagh would have to return home and Sam was dreading the isolation.

As they ate, they ran through the idea of the reconstruction again then Sheelagh went to get dressed. Sam found herself looking at the papers still stacked around the lower floor – emails, financials, phone records – searching for something she'd missed. Her heart told her there was something awry but her head told her they'd done everything possible to decipher it. She trusted Sheelagh's judgement on this more than her own and she knew she was doing everything to bring Abi home. They'd be a family soon enough; they had to be.

There was an unspoken agreement between them to arrive long before the reconstruction was due to start. Sam hadn't been down to the specific spot where Abi's clothes had been found, though it seemed Sheelagh had from the authoritative way she led her along the wharf. The attentiveness made Sam smile faintly then she focused her attention on the detail of the scene. Abi's clothes had apparently been found stuffed under the railings, weighed down with a rock to prevent them flying off into the river.

'I know,' Sheelagh said, even though she hadn't voiced any thoughts. 'It doesn't make sense.'

Leaning against the railings, Sam gazed out into the choppy water. 'It's a gesture, a sign. It's not even misdirection. But we're going round in circles. Because she didn't go in the water so where is she?'

'That's why we're here,' Sheelagh reminded her.

'She should've come home by now,' Sam muttered. 'This isn't right, it's not what everyone else thinks. She hasn't run away, she's with someone. Whether that's an accomplice or something else, it's a lead and I don't think it's one they're taking seriously. You've spoken to them – come on, tell me.'

Sheelagh shrugged and rested her arms on the railing beside her. 'They've got all the information we have.'

'Very diplomatic,' Sam said, nudging her. 'Look, I know what it's like with these cases. I've done it myself. You get handed a file, you chalk it up to family problems and you put it on the backburner until something drastic happens. The only reason we're here is because of you. They don't actually think a reconstruction's going to do any good.

Discreetly entwining their fingers on the railing, Sheelagh queried, 'Are you finished?'

'Yes,' she murmured.

'I pushed for them to do something proactive, of course I did,' Sheelagh said after a few seconds. 'Under the circumstances, a reconstruction was the best idea we had and I'm glad we're running with it, even if you're not.'

Sam exhaled and glanced sideways. 'I am, I'm sorry.'

Sheelagh didn't say anything, just squeezing her fingers then letting go. They stayed staring out across the water until the wind began to nip at them both and Sam's automatic impulse was to tug Sheelagh closer for warmth. Realising what she was trying to do, she stepped away.

'We passed a burger van on the road,' Sheelagh said as if nothing had happened. 'I'll buy you a coffee.'

Falling into step beside her, Sam remarked, 'You're spoiling me.'

'No, I just know how crabby you get without coffee,' Sheelagh retorted, 'and you're hardly Snow White at the best of times.'

Once they had their coffees, it was just a case of waiting for the officers, journalists and locals who'd been encouraged to attend. Sam watched them assemble with a strange sense of detachment. She only recognised what she was comparing it to when Sheelagh's hand slipped into her own and she nearly dropped the coffee she was gripping with her other hand. She recalled the despair radiating from Eva as they'd stood watching a little girl who looked so like Joanna disappearing out of sight and the way Sam had clung to her hand as literally the only thing she could do.

'Sheelagh,' she said quietly, keeping her eyes on the crowd assembling, 'I can't be here. I can't do this. You know, it might be different if we could –'

'Here,' Sheelagh interjected as she extracted her car keys from her pocket. 'Take these. Go for a drive or something.'

Sam turned to face her. 'I feel like I'm letting her down again.'

'Darling, you're not,' Sheelagh said, holding her gaze fiercely.

'What if she's here?' Sam questioned. 'What if she's watching and I walk away again?'

'If she's here, this could be the most instantly successful reconstruction in history,' answered Sheelagh. 'But, if she is, what she's going to see right now is you suffering. And she'll see us together – she'll see that. Take the car,' she went on in a tone that brokered no argument. 'You're not staying here now you've told me you can't. It's my job to look after you.'

With a faint smile, Sam queried, 'Is it?'

'Yes,' Sheelagh said firmly. 'Now, go. I'll call when we're done.'

She took the keys then pulled her into a hug. It was nothing more than friendly – it couldn't be – but she tried to infuse it with all that was going on in her head. Naturally, Sheelagh understand every word and just motioned for her to get out of there before they were spotted by the investigating officers who'd just arrived. With one final look, Sam strode back to the car and managed to avoid any curious gazes until she was out of the vicinity.

Instead of driving around, she parked up further along the river, close to her favoured spot, and watched people milling around looking into the water for a while. Then she closed her eyes and tried to visualise all they knew about Abi's movements but, when it came to picturing her leaving the clothes by the railings, the figure was shadowy and oddly-shaped. She couldn't bring herself to believe Abi had done it, that's why. Something told her it wasn't that simple and, despite everything, she still trusted her instincts. After all, her instincts had warned her a year ago that Sheelagh felt the same and that had been proved right, hadn't it?

Her phone beeped with a message: I've bought you another coffee xx

She smiled and turned the car around. By the time she got back to the area near the sandbank, the crowd had dispersed and there was Sheelagh sat on a step waiting for her with a couple of cups. She pulled up alongside and reached over to open the door so Sheelagh wouldn't have to struggle.

'Thanks,' Sheelagh said as she slotted into the car and passed her one of the coffees to put in the drinks holder. 'You can't have gone far.'

Sam pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. 'I didn't.'

'What was that in aid of?' Sheelagh asked. 'I thought you –'

'I wanna be careful but I'm not a zombie,' she interrupted. 'I wanted to kiss you. I hope that's all right.'

Chuckling, Sheelagh replied, 'I think I can live with it. Are we heading to the nick?'

'Yeah,' she said. 'I thought I'd put in a few hours on my paperwork or something. May as well.'

If Sheelagh believed that to be strange, she didn't say so but, then, she probably recognised that the motivation was more not to go home alone. She was still struggling from the last time Sheelagh had left her to go to work and she didn't particularly want to relive it right now. Besides, some time in the station might actually be beneficial – and not just to her caseload. It could straighten out her thought processes and give them another direction to look in for Abi. However, to do that she'd need to hear the worst of it.

'So,' she continued, gripping the steering wheel, 'how did it go?'

Sheelagh rested her free hand on her knee. 'Standard stuff, no surprises. We had a chat but there's nothing further to report. They're hoping on information from the public and they can't trace anything to do with the phone or the cash withdrawals.'

'Let me guess, they don't find that odd?' Sam queried.

'No,' Sheelagh admitted. 'I think their educated guess is that she's got a boyfriend and that's what this is about. They don't know what we know on that score.'

Sam glanced sideways. 'Do you think it would help if they did?'

Shaking her head, Sheelagh replied, 'It's relevant but we've given them all the information they could possibly get from that angle. We're practically running their investigation for them and, honestly, if you can't come up with anything further on it then they certainly won't be able to.'

'Maybe you overestimate my abilities,' she said.

Sheelagh reached to place her hand on her forehead. 'Are you feeling all right?'

'Cheeky,' Sam returned, even if she found herself smiling. 'I think I know we're doing everything we can and I trust you and me working together more than I would anybody else. There must be something we're missing but I don't think anyone else could get it either.'

'I think you're right,' Sheelagh agreed. 'We work pretty well as a team, you know.'

'I've noticed,' she answered.

It might only have been a couple of days since she'd been into work but she felt detached from the reality of Sun Hill nick as they pulled up. Perhaps it was the impending strain of separating from Sheelagh again and, of course, that vulnerability made her feel worse. As they got out of the car, she knew that Sheelagh spotted her anxiety and traced it to its root cause, but they couldn't very well discuss it now. Perhaps it was enough that they knew what the other was thinking – it was worth more than Sam would've credited eighteen months ago.

'What time does your shift finish?' she asked as they walked.

'Eight,' Sheelagh answered. 'You don't have to stay till then. You can even take my car.'

Sam grimaced and handed her back the keys. 'I'm not stealing your car.'

'I know what you're gonna say,' Sheelagh said just before they reached the doors, 'but I have to ask anyway, for my own peace of mind. Are you okay?'

Swallowing, Sam said, 'I'm still trying to process it all but I think so.'

'So we'll talk tonight?' Sheelagh suggested.

'Oh, yeah,' she murmured intimately.

It was amusing to see Sheelagh walk into the nick with such a blush on her face. Although it was hardly a game, Sam knew she'd won this round and, she suspected, that Sheelagh would get her revenge in the near future. With a little smirk, Sam buzzed through to the staircase, only throwing a look over her shoulder when the door had swung shut behind her and finding a corresponding smile on Sheelagh's face. It made the ascent to Jack's office a little easier.

'Are you sure you wanna be here?' he asked after she'd given him a brief overview of the reconstruction and probably convinced him that she actually attended.

'Sheelagh's working,' she said with a shrug.

'I'm sure we could work something out,' he replied.

She shook her head. 'Thanks, Guv, but I'd rather be here. I want to sort my paperwork out, keep on top of things a little bit if I can.'

'Well, I won't kick you out,' Jack said. 'I need all the good officers I can get right now.'

'Problems?' she questioned, standing.

'No more than usual,' he said. 'Look, you find yourself struggling, come to me, okay? Leave the DI out of the loop if you have to.'

'Yes, Guv,' she answered. 'Thank you.'

Almost the second she walked through the door she was grabbed by Rob. Apparently a case he'd been working earlier with Debbie was short of an officer since Manson had pulled Debbie away randomly. She found herself being talked into working on a live case when, really, all she was fit for was paperwork. Even so, she agreed for some mad reason, reckoning it might keep her mind busy.

It was a weird case to get her head around in a short space of time but she agreed with Debbie's assertion that there was far more going on than met the eye and they needed to push the kid involved. After all, you didn't highjack a car using a makeshift 'gun' of a bottle of water and a packet of biscuits unless you were desperate to get away from someone or something. Added to which, uniform had found an actual gun with his fingerprints all over it along with his blood-soaked jacket.

In interview the lad was distressed but strangely silent on what actually was going on. Although she tried to focus on the case, she knew she was simply going through the motions. Even the threat of a murder charge wasn't getting through to him but any progress they might've made was hampered by the fact that Manson came in and pulled Rob from the interview for reasons unknown. Whatever was going on there was something she should probably worry about too but she couldn't muster the energy for that either.

As she handed the prisoner back to the custody officer, she turned around and came face-to-face with Sheelagh, who put her hands on her hips and stared at her.

'You're meant to be on paperwork,' she pointed out.

'Tell me about it,' Sam returned. 'Manson's playing musical chairs with this case. First Rob and Debbie were dealing with it then he put me on it and now Rob's disappeared.'

Sheelagh frowned. 'What's going on up there?'

'Your guess is as good as mine,' she said. 'I'll see you later, yeah?'

'Don't work too hard,' Sheelagh warned before she moved away and that was enough to send Sam up the stairs with a smile on her face.

Back upstairs, she was waiting at her desk for some sort of reappearance from Rob but it didn't seem to be happening. Then Smithy came up to tell her that the suspect's brother was downstairs. At that point she felt she had to question Manson on when she was getting her partner back but he stonewalled her, saying that he doubted Rob would be back at work today and declining to explain why. Then he unceremoniously stuck Phil on the investigation with her and wandered off.

In succinct terms, she filled Phil in on the curious case then steeled herself as she caught sight of the look on his face.

'How about you?' he asked. 'Abi – the reconstruction, how'd it go?'

'Fine,' she said. 'They're waiting on information from the public, there's been nothing so far.'

'It's early days,' he replied.

Coming from Phil it sounded like a platitude, whereas from Sheelagh it would've at least sounded sincere. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to stand. 'Come on, this kid's brother wants to talk to us.'

The interview with the brother didn't throw much light on the situation, only telling them that Tam Farrell seemed to have had a personality transplant during his short stint in prison. Returning to CID, Phil did some digging on his cellmate before they went back for another chat with Tam and she lost her rag, putting a bit of pressure on him. Finally, he cracked, coming out with a story so ludicrous it could only be true.

He'd been doing some chauffeuring for his ex-cellmate and that morning he'd gone, along with another man, to collect the guy's family to take them to the airport. He'd been waiting outside but it was taking a while so he'd gone to see what was happening and seen his colleague holding a gun to a man and woman who were bound and gagged. There'd been a struggle where Tam had tried to get the gun and it'd gone off, injuring the man. Tam had fled and it was no wonder really.

After filling in the top brass and scrambling SO19, she and Jack went to the cellmate's house while Phil was sent to check the wife's house. Sam knew, of course, that she'd been given the easier job of the two, with Jack deliberately there to babysit her and no dead bodies of a wife and kids to discover. As they drove, she wanted to be angry about that but her mind was elsewhere again.

Just when they arrived at Felix Nevis's house she received a call from Phil that the wife and her boyfriend were okay but the kids were missing and the shooter was badly injured from his accident earlier. The aim had been to snatch the kids but it had all gone wrong. Unfortunately, Nevis had turned up to take the kids of his own accord after the job had gone pear-shaped. It was nothing to do with paternal affection, more than he wanted to use them as a bargaining tool now his wife had filed for divorce.

Along with uniform, Sam and Jack checked the house. Upstairs, she heard a noise like a television as Jack commented on the packing that had been going on in the master bedroom. She followed the tinny sound to a cartoon and was relieved to discover the boy and girl frightened but unharmed in front of the television. It was heartening how relieved they both looked to see her – as though a police officer was the best thing she could possibly be. Gratefully, she coaxed them out onto the landing to meet Jack, keeping them close as much for her benefit as theirs.

Nevis hadn't managed to get away, skulking in the garden and hoping they'd leave so he could get his stuff. Sam heard the kerfuffle as she loaded the kids into the car but ignored it in favour of keeping them calm. She only heard later that Lance and Steve had arrested him, though not before he'd apparently got a blow in to Jack's stomach. You wouldn't know that from the stoic way he'd driven them back to the nick though.

She let Jack handle the interview with Phil and took it upon herself to have the kids checked out before returning them to their mother in the front office. The reconciliation was painful to watch – a woman absolutely overjoyed to be reunited with her kids maybe wasn't the best thing for her to witness right now but she couldn't tear her eyes away.

It meant that when she returned to her desk, she was feeling more than a little pensive. Jack came in and, spotting her, got them both a glass of water from the dispenser before hovering over her desk like a friendly uncle.

'Tough case, eh?' he queried. 'I wouldn't have let you anywhere near it if I'd known.'

'I'm still capable of doing my job, Guv,' she said. 'You know, the youngest didn't even know that Nevis was his dad.'

Jack paused then raised his cup of water. 'So where are they now?'

'Back with their mum,' she answered. 'What sort of sentence would Nevis get for something like that?'

'Well, probably a hell of a lot less than Tam Farrell,' Jack replied, 'and if it wasn't for him the kids would probably be in Spain right now.'

She absorbed that then a thought crossed her mind. It was inevitable, really, given the stress of the reconstruction she hadn't attended coupled with the motherly reconciliation downstairs that she had.

'So tiny, aren't they?' she queried softly. 'What happened to them today will probably stay with them for the rest of their lives.'

'Well, kids get through all kinds of troubles at that age,' Jack said after a moment. 'They won't remember.'

'I disagree,' she murmured. 'Kids remember everything.'

Gruffly, he patted her shoulder and then made an awkward exit. She watched after him, feeling lost all of a sudden, then checked her watch. It was just after six – in a couple of hours she could go home with Sheelagh and, in the meantime, she could work on that paperwork she'd intended to when she'd walked through the doors earlier.

In reality, it turned out to be twenty percent paperwork and eighty percent thinking too much. She was still sat doing the latter when Phil arrived and dumped a bar of chocolate on the desk. It was so reminiscent of something Sheelagh would do except that it wasn't Galaxy and therefore she wouldn't eat it. However, she appreciated his consideration and they continued working in companionable silence while CID emptied around them. She wasn't stupid – she knew that he was deliberately hanging around to keep an eye on her when he probably had a date to keep or something. What she was uncertain of was whether it was him using his initiative or whether Sheelagh had put him up to the surveillance.

Eventually, he switched off his computer and stood. 'It's almost eight o'clock. You sure I can't tempt you for a drink?'

She glanced up and absently shook her head before looking back to her computer screen. 'No.'

'Okay, if you need anything you just give me a call, yeah?' he went on.

She smiled as best she could then heard him drifting towards the exit just as an email popped into her watched inbox. It was from a suicide website and she blinked a few times at the connotations that threw into her mind. They quickly became a reality as she saw Abi's name in the subject header.

'Phil?' she said.

He turned back. 'Yeah?'

'Come here,' she replied.

Leaning over her shoulder, he questioned, 'What is it?'

'It's a website,' she said. 'They've sent me an email from Abigail.' She read it as fast as she could, her stomach clenching more with every word. 'Looks like a suicide note.'

'When was it written?' he asked.

'Dated...five days ago,' she said, feeling an icy reality wash over her. 'That's when they found Abi's clothes. She must be dead.'

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 'Not necessarily. Look, let me –'

'Sheelagh,' she interjected. 'I need Sheelagh. She's downstairs somewhere, she finishes at eight. Find her, Phil.'

Without an argument, he took off and she was left alone to read the email over and over again. The words melted into one as she blinked back tears. She'd convinced herself that Abi hadn't gone into the water. It hadn't been logical to think that she had and, in consequence, she'd spent nearly a week hoping for something that couldn't happen. Abi was dead. She'd committed suicide because of something Sam had – or hadn't – done. The thought made her head swim and by the time she heard the CID doors open again she legitimately suspected she might throw up over her keyboard.

A hand dropped onto her shoulder and she flinched away. Sheelagh didn't draw attention to the motion but she obviously spotted it. For her part, Sam suddenly found she couldn't look at her. This was completely her fault and Sheelagh was part of that mistake. Fixing it had come too late – they couldn't fix this.

'All right,' Sheelagh said after reading the email, 'we need to inform the investigating officers. Phil, could you take care of that for me? And let the DCI and Inspector Gold know while you're at it.'

'Sure thing,' he said. 'Anything else?'

'Not right now,' she answered. 'We're going home so you can contact us there if you need to.'

Sam looked up sharply. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

'There's nothing we can do here,' Sheelagh said, 'and we won't be able to contact the company until the morning anyway. You're coming home, you need to sleep.'

Her anger ebbed away and she looked back to the screen. Once more, the words blurred but she made sure to click the print icon and heard the printer whirr into life behind her. She might be going home but the email was coming with her; she needed to analyse every word.