Sheelagh could feel the storm brewing across the car but couldn't pinpoint where exactly it was going to strike. She was almost holding her breath, waiting for the explosion.

She'd just finished getting changed when Phil had barged unceremoniously into the locker room and the look on his face had warned her not to yell at him. He rapidly explained about the suicide email and she grabbed her stuff before following him up the stairs. Her mind was skidding about all over the place. They'd discounted the idea of suicide and her instincts told her that assumption was still well-founded. However, she knew from the moment she saw Sam that she was fighting her own instincts on this one. Everything they'd discussed over the past couple of days had drained from her face and Sheelagh saw the frightened, self-recriminatory woman in front of her again. The way she'd recoiled from her touch was further evidence they were slipping backwards and Sheelagh had made a concerted effort to take charge. She wasn't about to let all their progress over the last couple of days disintegrate because Samantha Nixon was scared. They'd come too far to let it all slip away, even if she felt the distance between them acutely as they drove home.

She half-wondered whether Sam would try the same trick she had last time and attempt to keep her outside the house but she didn't. Sheelagh eyed her carefully as she locked the car and followed her up the path, watching her fumble with the keys and making a conscious decision not to offer any help. She needed to work out how the land lay first so she stepped into the house and closed the door behind her with a dull click.

Sam had stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. This morning they'd left the house so together and now Sheelagh couldn't even risk reaching out to touch her in case it triggered a tsunami. She just had to wait and see what Sam do next and, in the meantime, neither of them moved a muscle.

When Sam abruptly spun around Sheelagh braced herself for some sort of tirade. The last thing she expected was to be pressed up against the door with Sam's lips on hers and hands roaming around her body. Startled, she relinquished control, the intimacy the polar opposite of what she'd been expecting. Then Sam's fingers began fumbling with her belt and she realised what was going on. She gently tried to nudge her away but she persisted in trailing kisses along her jawbone whilst pushing her coat from her shoulders.

'Sam...' Sheelagh murmured. 'Stop.'

Ignoring her, Sam relocated her lips to her throat. Sheelagh succumbed to the sensation for a few more seconds then, finally, pushed her away with as much force as it took. The hurt and exasperation on Sam's face cut through her but, straightening her clothes, Sheelagh faced her squarely.

'We talked about this,' she said. 'Come on, we agreed.'

Sam snorted. 'Oh, I knew it.'

With that, she stalked off into the living room and Sheelagh was left alone in the hallway. Although her skin was still buzzing from Sam's touch, something else was burning fiercely in her stomach and she strode after her. She found her using the mantelpiece as a crutch, head lowered and shoulders rigid.

'What do you mean by that?' Sheelagh demanded.

'I knew you were stringing me along,' Sam snapped. 'Just go. Get out.'

'No chance,' she retorted. 'Look at me. Look at me!'

Sam turned around, though the expression on her face was nowhere near apologetic. 'What do you want from me, hmm?'

'More than you want from me obviously,' she returned.

'How the hell do you work that out?' Sam questioned incredulously.

Sheelagh crossed her arms. 'We said we'd wait. The only reason you're pushing this is because you think Abi's dead.'

'We've just read a damn suicide note,' Sam spat. 'What do you expect?'

'Yeah, and we need to talk about that, not...' Trailing off, she examined Sam's face and felt an unprecedented knot of fury tighten deep inside her. 'Yesterday, you wanted to wait. It was your idea as much as mine. I told you, this has to be about us, not grief or –'

'It's not about that,' interrupted Sam scornfully.

'Isn't it?' Sheelagh pressed. 'A bit of physical comfort because there's something you don't want to deal with, something that hurts you too much.'

Stiffening, Sam warned, 'Sheelagh, don't.'

'Cavanaugh,' she went on, almost gratified by the dismay on Sam's face at the name. 'You got scared so you jumped into bed with that –'

'Stop it,' Sam cut in.

'Why should I?' Sheelagh questioned. 'Ignoring it hasn't done any good. It's still in here,' she added, tapping her forehead. 'Instead of trusting me, talking to me, you just tried to run away as fast as you could. You didn't care that you hurt me, that I missed you, needed you. As long as you were hiding and protecting yourself, that's all that mattered.'

'Right, yeah,' said Sam with a sneer, 'because you would've bitten my hand off back then, wouldn't you? You've said yourself, you didn't wanna know.'

'Well, we'll never know what I would've done, will we?' she replied. 'You never gave me the chance. No, Samantha Nixon has to deal with everything on her own. Serial killers? No problem. Rapists? Fine! When it comes to your heart... You were happier pretending you didn't have one, weren't you?'

Sam growled. 'Yes, actually. At least I knew where I stood, what I needed to be doing. You walked into my life and screwed everything up. And don't pretend I could've told you a year ago and everything would've been fine. We both know that's crap. You were pregnant with Des Taviner's kid, for God's sake.'

'Yeah,' Sheelagh agreed, 'and have you ever stopped to wonder why?'

Clenching her fists, Sam muttered, 'I'd say that's pretty obvious.'

'You'd think so, wouldn't you?' Sheelagh questioned. She held her gaze and deliberately continued, 'That day you shut me out about what was going on with Glenn, the day you confided in Eva and not me... Des caught me walking home. I was upset because you'd pushed me away. I might not have known why at the time but it's blindingly obvious now, isn't it? You said it started from day one for you; it had to be the same for me. Don't you see?'

The words melted over the room and Sam's anger visibly disintegrated. Her hands fell limply by her sides and her lips parted as she struggled to comprehend the idea. Sheelagh was feeling much the same. Until she'd said it aloud, she hadn't realised the implications of it all. She'd succumbed to Des mainly because she was frustrated with Sam, she could see that plainly now. So the only reason she'd had Niamh at all was because of her feelings for Sam.

'I wouldn't change it,' she went on quietly after a minute. 'You know, it's ironic. I had an affair with Des and the child I ended up with was yours.'

'Sheelagh...' Sam murmured and, this time, her voice was brittle.

'Abi's not dead,' Sheelagh said carefully. When Sam wavered on the spot she added, 'And I love you and you love me. We've just got a lot of issues to work out, that's all.'

'I didn't...' Sam lowered her chin. 'I'm sorry about Cavanaugh and – and everything that happened with Glenn and every other idiotic thing I've done to try and protect myself. I'm not proud of it, any of it.'

'Well, I'm proud of you,' returned Sheelagh and Sam looked up with her brow creased. 'Have you any idea how spectacular you've been over the last year? You were scared, sure, but you weren't selfish. You injected so much energy into looking after me that you missed out on promotion because of it.'

'No,' Sam said instantly, 'that's not –'

'Of course it is,' Sheelagh interrupted. 'Then you had the chance to leave after Manson arrived and you didn't take it. That's not being selfish, darling. You just get... Your default response is to push people away because the last time you let someone in, everything fell apart. It's much simpler to hide your feelings, pretend you don't feel anything when you feel so much. You'd rather not let anyone in but, I've got news for you, it's too late. I'm in,' she went on with a smile, 'and you can't get rid of me. I promised you that, remember? Sure, you hurt me with Cavanaugh and keeping your secrets but I hurt you with Des. Maybe what I did was as bad in some ways. You see, I never talked about you, not to the family, not to Des. You were my secret in a way, I just didn't realise why.'

A tear dribbled down Sam's cheek. 'Des didn't know we were friends, neither did Patrick.'

'And I can imagine how that hurt you,' Sheelagh said. 'There you are, caring more about me than anyone else in the world ever has and I've practically pretended you don't exist to the people who are meant to know me. I kept secrets from you as well. You might've known about Des but you didn't know because I told you. I'm not sure I've too much right to criticise really. We've both made mistakes.'

'You didn't know what you were doing,' Sam answered. 'That's the difference.'

'Does it change anything?' Sheelagh asked reasonably. 'We hurt each other but we're here, aren't we? We've got to keep talking – or shouting. I don't suppose it matters which. It's good to get it out once in a while.'

Hesitantly, Sam edged forward, her nerves evident. It was as though she thought she'd push her away again so Sheelagh bridged the gap herself, settling her hands on Sam's hips then slowly pressing a kiss to her lips. Sam pulled her closer but, unlike earlier, this was love and not desperation. When Sheelagh withdrew she rested their foreheads together, scared about letting her go, even for a moment.

'You're right,' Sam murmured, stroking her cheek. 'I just wanted to ignore the pain and I'm sorry. I do want this to be about us, you know that.'

'I do,' Sheelagh replied.

'Saying that you're stringing me along...' Sam sighed. 'I'm sorry. I know you're not. I know you couldn't be here if you didn't –'

Sheelagh cut her off with another deep kiss, infused with far more than any words she could muster. This time, when Sam's hands found her belt buckle it was accidental and they swiftly moved back up to safer ground, tugging her closer by the hem of her shirt until both of them were overheating.

Flushed, Sheelagh pulled back. 'I'm gonna put the kettle on.'

'Okay,' Sam whispered. 'That's a . . . good idea.'

It was probably the only way they were going to get back round to the significant subject of the night – that suicide email that was burning a hole in Sam's pocket. Sheelagh led her by the hand into the kitchen and started boiling the kettle. Then, after frowning at it gurgling for a few seconds, she flicked it off at the switch and poured them both a glass of wine instead.

'That's a better idea,' Sam commented as she shrugged her coat off and extracted the piece of paper from the pocket. She flattened it out on the table as she took a seat, tracing along the creases with her index finger. 'Look, it's a suicide note, Sheelagh. What else could it mean if not the obvious?'

She sat down and entwined their fingers. 'I want Detective Sergeant Nixon back here for a couple of minutes please. Just a couple, that's about all I can take after the last hour. Think about it properly for me.'

Sam swallowed. 'Okay... Well, it's not very specific, is it? There's very little about Abi's day-to-day life, things that she'd know and no one else. There's also no mention of you and me, which is a primary factor in all of this.'

'Good,' Sheelagh said. 'Keep going.'

'It's vague,' Sam continued. 'I mean, it might indicate confusion or hesitation on her part to actually go through with a suicide but I'd expect more detail, I'd expect her to make it hurt. It's also not very long and I know she's got a lot to say.'

'Does it sound like Abi?' Sheelagh pressed.

After reading it once more, Sam shook her head. 'I don't think so. Then again, I could just be seeing what I want to see.'

'Right now, I'm all for that,' Sheelagh said. 'You've got an insight into Abi that no one else has got. I want to use that.'

'Your first instinct was that she wasn't dead,' Sam said, raising her eyes. 'Why?'

Sheelagh inhaled deeply. 'Three reasons. One: there's so much we've talked about over the last couple of days that's unexplained. Who was she calling on that unidentified number? What did she need that £100 for if she was intending to kill herself? Where are the rest of her belongings? Why your shirt? And, two, why have you received the suicide note now? Sure, it's dated five days ago but I think there's a reason it's dropped into your inbox tonight.'

Tilting her head to the side, Sam pointed out, 'You said three reasons.'

'You'd know,' she said simply. 'Trust me, you'd know.'

The expression on Sam's face altered and she began massaging circles into the palm of her hand. 'I'm sorry, I'm an idiot.'

'You're not,' Sheelagh replied then smiled weakly. 'Well, not about that anyway. I knew, Sam. I did. As soon as I saw the ambulance outside the house, I knew. And I'd had this feeling all night... It was a creeping, nauseating feeling. I knew in my heart.'

'Sweetheart, you don't have to talk about this,' Sam said.

'No, listen,' Sheelagh went on firmly, 'I need to ask you something.'

Sam clutched her hand. 'Okay.'

'When you were rushing to me at the hospital,' she said, 'how did you feel? What did you think?'

'You know that I look at the worst-case scenario,' Sam replied, shifting in her seat.

Sheelagh rose and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, knowing they needed to be holding each other right now. Turning, Sam rested burrowed into her stomach while Sheelagh smoothed down her hair.

'Come on,' she said, 'tell me.'

'I felt hollow,' Sam admitted. 'Like everything had changed, like we'd lost our... Yeah, I think I knew.'

'And how about now?' pushed Sheelagh gently.

Sam let out a quivering breath. 'It's not the same.'

'Hold onto that for me, darling,' Sheelagh murmured, kissing her head. 'I promise you, we've got hope and that's something. Now, will you let me get you something to eat?'

With a groan, Sam said, 'I hoped you might not notice that.'

Sheelagh chuckled and lifted her chin up to kiss her tenderly. She tasted the tears on her lips and suspected that Sam could taste hers so they stayed entwined like that for far longer than was necessary. Things were as close to normal between them as they could be with Abi missing and they might've stayed like that all night if Sam's stomach hadn't rumbled like a volcano.

'Food,' Sheelagh said firmly. 'No arguments.'

While she threw together some pasta, Sam remained at the table, looking at the email and sipping her wine. Occasionally, Sheelagh dropped a kiss on her forehead as she passed and they settled down to eat in companionable silence. She knew that she'd set both Sam's head and heart in motion tonight – facts combined with emotion, Sam's bread and butter these days. If they were going to solve this mystery, that combination would be the key to it. Sheelagh had no doubt about that.

'How is it so late?' Sam queried when Sheelagh rose to clear the plates.

'Are you tired?' Sheelagh shot back.

Sam grimaced. 'Actually, yeah, but I'm too... I couldn't sleep.'

'We'll see about that,' said Sheelagh. 'You go get ready for bed; I'll see you up there. Don't bother arguing – I mean it.'

Whether it was their earlier disagreements prompting her to keep the peace or simply exhaustion telling her to acquiesce, Sam complied without a word. Sheelagh was left alone to wash-up and plot out what she was going to do next. It had been one hell of a night and maybe she was about to make the wrong move but she suspected she needed the intimacy as much as Sam seemed to. If the idea wasn't a worthy one, it probably wouldn't have occurred to her right this minute.

She climbed the stairs, almost expecting Sam to be asleep. She wasn't. Instead, she was scrunched up on the bed in her pyjamas, knees tucked up towards her chin like a child. Her forehead creased when she saw what Sheelagh was carrying.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Trust me,' Sheelagh replied.

Kneeling down beside the dresser, she plugged the portable CD player into the socket and fiddled with the volume. The dulcet tones of Ella Fitzgerald began floating around the room and she stood up to find Sam staring at her curiously. Sheelagh didn't say anything, just took her pyjamas into the bathroom to change. Along with preparing for bed, she also collected the candles from around the bath that she suspected were Abi's and the box of matches from the windowsill.

'What are you up to?' Sam queried when she returned.

Until she'd lit the candles and grouped them on the bedside table, Sheelagh didn't say a word. In truth, her stomach was jittering. She didn't want Sam to take this for more than it was but she knew she needed to give it a go so she turned the main light off and switched on the bedside lamp instead.

'Take your top off,' she instructed. 'Lay on your front.'

Sam's lips parted but, perhaps against her better judgement, she simply followed the order. It was a little physically awkward for both of them. Sheelagh diplomatically averted her gaze, even if she could still see the action out of the corner of her eye. She attempted to focus on the lyrics of 'Ev'ry Time You Say Goodbye' playing softly but she knew she was completely absorbed in the idea of what she was about to do.

With the covers nudged away and resting on her front, Sam was obviously feeling the chill a little. Sheelagh steeled herself and swung her body over so she was straddling her lower back. Immediately, she felt the reaction ripple through the pair of them. If she wasn't so determined to keep this relatively clean, she would've gladly given in. But they couldn't have the row they'd had earlier and end the night giving into their feelings. It wasn't the right time for that; perhaps it was the right time for this.

Tremulously, she swept Sam's hair aside and began massaging her bare shoulders, gently at first then with a little more fervour when she felt how much Sam was enjoying it. She eased her attentions up and down her spine with Ella crooning in the corner and the vanilla candles infusing into the air. It was intoxicating to feel Sam relaxing under her touch like this, not to mention the fact that rubbing circles into her skin was sending Sheelagh's mind off on all sorts of tangents. For now, she allowed them free rein, knowing that if anything showed on her face Sam couldn't see. It occurred to her, too, that Sam was probably struggling with a similar problem.

Ella got through a few tracks before Sheelagh began to sense that she was losing Sam to fatigue. Something shifted in the air so, just to be sure, Sheelagh leaned forward and scattered a few kisses along her neck. She was rewarded with a muffled moan, distant more in time than space. Sam was fighting sleep but Sheelagh was determined not to let her. She went back to insistent massaging and, finally, Sam's breathing completely regulated. She'd given in.

With as much care as possible, Sheelagh slid off the bed and went through the motions of turning the music off and blowing out the candles. She wondered if it might be more appropriate to go and sleep on the sofa but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Sure, part of it was a selfish need to stay here but, along with that, she knew Sam would wake up and second-guess all this. If Sheelagh was here, she could at least try to counteract that.

Before she turned off the bedside lamp, she stared for a long time at Sam's smooth shoulders and back. It should feel alien to her, of course it should. She'd spent her entire life believing that, while homosexuals should be free to live their lives in peace, it was nothing to do with her. How wrong she'd been. She couldn't say it'd always been there but perhaps it hadn't needed to be. It was there now because of Sam and, Sheelagh knew with complete certainty, that the only person she ever wanted to give herself to again was Samantha Nixon. If the first forty-odd years of her life had been spent raising three wonderful kids then the next forty were going to be looking after this infuriating, gorgeous, intelligent woman who made her stomach twist simply by sleeping half-naked in front of her.

This was their lot until they found Abi but, she recognised, as she planted one final kiss on Sam's shoulder and turned off the light, it was going to lead to so much more. Right now, she craved that more than anything.


She felt a disturbance behind her but kept completely still. Her recollection of the night before had come back in a jolt and she knew that Sam was likely still topless. What happened next was probably going to dictate how things were going to be between them today. If Sam ran then it was going to be another uphill struggle, something she wasn't sure she had the strength for given last night's troubles.

Despite Sam scrabbling about, Sheelagh remained motionless in the bed. She heard her pull on her pyjama top and was bracing herself for a disappearing act when an arm slipped around her waist. All pretence of sleep vanished as she pressed her body back into Sam's gratefully. She needed this contact, especially when Sam swept back her hair to pepper a few deliberate kisses onto her neck. They fell into a light slumber until the alarm clock beeped and Sam twisted around to switch it off. Sheelagh rolled over to kiss her properly then motioned her into her arms.

'What do we do next?' Sam questioned eventually.

'We'd hit a brick wall, hadn't we?' Sheelagh returned. 'The phone was a valid lead but that came up blank. The cash withdrawals and the location – that was promising too but we couldn't get anything from it.'

Sam's flickered up to hers. 'We're being spoon fed.'

'Exactly,' said Sheelagh. 'I don't know about you but I don't like someone telling me what to think. It's too simple.'

'You don't think this is Abi, do you?' asked Sam.

She shook her head. 'This might've been Abi's game to start with but I don't believe it can be anymore. I think it's got out of hand and someone else is pulling the strings. There was no chance Abi attended the reconstruction yesterday, I had a good look around. But that's not to say her accomplice didn't. I still say if we work out who that number belongs to then we're one step closer to bringing her home.'

Tightening her arm around her waist, Sam pointed out, 'We're assuming she wants to come home.'

'Of course she does,' Sheelagh answered. 'You've said it yourself – she had the options to get away properly and she didn't take them. There's far too much going on here. What she wants is us together and she's accomplished that. If it were her choice, she'd be here, just to say I told you so.'

'Yeah, she's good at that,' Sam murmured.

'Can't think where she gets it from,' Sheelagh retorted, kissing her hair. 'Okay, so we go into work and we make sure we ask the questions that everyone else doesn't want to. With all your contacts, have you got anyone in language analysis?'

'I can rustle someone up, I'm sure,' said Sam. 'But why? We've already established the email doesn't sound like Abi.'

'Sure, we know that but we'd have a better time convincing the rest of them if we had an expert saying it, wouldn't we?' Sheelagh reasoned. 'We need a bit of support, darling.'

'Yep.' Sam inhaled deeply. 'Listen, about last night –'

'We don't need to talk about any of it,' Sheelagh cut in. 'Not this minute.'

Raising her head, Sam met her eye. 'Can I at least say thank you? That was some massage.'

Sheelagh flushed. 'I suppose so. Now, come on, you get a shower and I'll fix us some breakfast.'

'Anything you say,' replied Sam, slipping out of the bed.

'Can I have that in writing?' Sheelagh called after her.


Unlike last night's car journey, this morning's with Sam in the driver's seat was tense in a different way. They were both anxious about Abi, of course, but they were united in their concern instead of being divided by it. Sheelagh knew that her arguments had convinced Sam's head and heart so now it was just a matter of following through on their suspicions. All that said, she didn't kid herself it was going to be an easy day. Whatever their thoughts on the matter, a suicide note had still turned up and it was going to be investigated as a potential suicide. That could lead to all sorts of accusations and self-recriminations. Instinctively, Sheelagh knew her first major task of the day would be persuading the top brass to allow her to continue in the nominal role of FLO – she needed to stay near Sam as much as she could today.

So their first port of call when they got to the nick wasn't CID. Ignoring the curious stares of their colleagues, Sheelagh led Sam along to Gina's office. If the need had arisen, she would've bitten anyone's head off who dared verbally criticise Sam but it didn't. Perhaps they were both looking especially intimidating today.

Gina welcomed them in with a weak smile and closed the door. 'Take a seat, the pair of you.'

'Is there any news?' Sam asked as they did.

'Have you been upstairs yet?' Gina queried. When they shook their heads she continued, 'Okay, well, Phil stayed late last night and he's been in for a while already. He managed to get through to the site and, from what we can tell, it's a very simple procedure to send an email notifying next of kin. You can send it immediately or you can schedule it to send at a specific time. Most people choose the latter option so they can...'

She trailed off and Sam cleared her throat. 'And that's what Abi did?'

'No,' Gina replied and they both looked up. 'She wrote the email and saved it into the system. That's why the date at the top suggested it was meant to be sent six days ago but she didn't schedule it. Someone clicked to send last night.'

Sheelagh exchanged a glance with Sam before questioning, 'Do we know who clicked the button?'

Gina shook her head. 'It could be Abigail or it could be someone else with her log-in details. At the moment, we can't get into her account and the company are being a bit obstructive about it. It's as if they've finally realised that facilitating the communication of people who want to kill themselves might backfire. We're getting a warrant but it'd be easier if you could have a crack at the password. Phil and Terry are dealing with it, under the DI's supervision.'

'Oh, great, that's all we need,' Sam muttered then she stood up. 'I should get going on that.'

'You go,' Sheelagh told her, 'I'll be right behind you.'

Sam inclined her head at both of them then made her escape, shutting the door behind her. Sheelagh took a moment to lean back in her chair so she could gather her thoughts together then refocused on Gina's furrowed brow.

'Is there anything you didn't say in front of her?' she questioned seriously.

'Only that CID are investigating but they're seeing it as the latest of Abi's manipulations,' Gina said. 'You don't think that though.'

'No, I don't,' she answered. 'I believe there's more going on here. As a copper, I believe that,' she added before Gina could raise the point. 'I've managed to convince Sam too.'

Gina lifted an eyebrow. 'You had to convince her?'

'She's suffering,' Sheelagh said simply. 'Look, I don't see any point in apportioning blame when we should be focusing our energies on finding Abi.'

'Agreed,' Gina conceded. 'Now, listen, I've had a word with the DCI and we've agreed you can help Samantha out with her paperwork today.'

'Paperwork,' repeated Sheelagh knowingly.

Gina shrugged. 'Just keep an eye on her, that's all I ask. Then again, you're good at that.'

Rolling her eyes, Sheelagh stood and stretched out. 'Thank you, Ma'am.'

She stopped by the locker room to change as quickly as she could, trying to avoid conversation with any of her colleagues. That held until she reached the upstairs landing and Ramani caught her. It was case-related, not gossip, and Sheelagh struggled to divert her mind away from Sam's situation to recall the details of a domestic from a fortnight ago. Although her memory was a little fuzzy, she managed to at least muddle through the conversation. They were just exchanging some final remarks when Sheelagh caught sight of a flash of grey out of the corner of her eye and twisted around.

'Sorry, Ramani,' she said hastily, 'I've gotta go.'

With that, she took off down the front staircase after Sam. Whatever had happened in the brief time she'd been in CID, it had shaken her equilibrium and Sheelagh couldn't even muster frustration at being left behind. Sam was in combat mode and she needed to find out why.

She caught up with her halfway across the car park. 'Hey, where are you going?'

Sam blinked, suddenly seeming to remember herself. 'God, Sheelagh, I'm sorry, I didn't think. It was tunnel vision.'

'Never mind that,' she said. 'What's wrong?'

'We've got a potential location for one of Abi's contacts on the website,' Sam explained. 'I told Phil I'd tell the DI.'

'You walked right past him on the staircase,' Sheelagh pointed out.

'Did I?' replied Sam innocently.

Sheelagh snorted. 'Come on. You can fill me in on the way.'

Once they were on the road, Sam began, 'I managed to get into the account. The, erm, password was 'Weston'.'

'Makes sense, I suppose,' Sheelagh said, rubbing her arm.

'There were messages from a local girl, Tess,' Sam continued after a moment. 'She and Abi were discussing places to meet and, get this, Tess works in an all-night shop near the college.'

'That's positive,' replied Sheelagh then she frowned at the flicker on Sam's face. 'What is it?'

Sam entwined their fingers. 'In one of the messages, she explicitly said she wanted to kill herself, that she hated her life. I know – I know that we've discounted that but seeing it there in black and white...'

'Of course it had an effect on you,' Sheelagh said. She squeezed her hand then disentangled her fingers to caress her cheek briefly. 'But please try seeing this as a positive thing. We've got a lead, darling.'

'One that somebody gave to us,' Sam reminded her. 'I still don't like that.'

'Neither do I,' Sheelagh conceded with a shrug. 'When did the contact with Tess start?'

'Well, that fits as well,' said Sam. 'It was after the unidentified phone calls started. There's a chance that it was Tess she was calling. I'm not sure if that makes things better or worse to be honest.'

'Let's find her and ask,' Sheelagh replied. 'There can't be that many all-night shops by the college.'

It did feel good to be doing something, she realised when they pulled up. Judging from the determination in Sam's frame, she was experiencing a similar sensation, even if it dimmed somewhat as they hit two dead ends. However, they struck lucky on the third attempt and Sheelagh recognised the significance of the location at the same time as Sam did – it was just a few doors down from the cash machine where Abi had withdrawn £20 the morning after her first night away from home.

Sam flashed her warrant card at the shop assistant. 'DS Nixon, Sun Hill. I'm looking for Tess Garvey.'

'Not here,' the young lad answered. 'Hasn't been in for a few days.'

'What about this girl?' Sheelagh asked, pulling out the picture of Abi still in her jacket pocket. 'Her name's Abigail, you might've seen her with Tess.'

He shook his head. 'Afraid not. Sorry.'

'Have you got an address for Tess?' Sam questioned.

'I'd have to talk to my boss,' he said uncomfortably.

'Maybe we can do that then,' Sam said briskly and Sheelagh had to suppress her smile. She loved this woman but, even she had to admit, once she was on a mission you'd be wise to cross the road to avoid her.

She went outside to wait by the car while Sam extracted the necessary information from the manager. The look on her face when she stepped out of the shop indicated a recent battle that seemed to have done her the world of good. It was all Sheelagh could do to stop herself kissing her right there in the middle of the street.

'Got an address,' Sam announced.

'Course you did,' shot back Sheelagh.

Sam managed a small grin then concentrated on the road. It was only a ten minute drive to Tess's flat which discounted the idea that those other two unusual cash withdrawals could've been anywhere near her home. Sheelagh knew Sam had cottoned onto that fact too but the college withdrawal was still significant and they really had to run with that, whether it was being spoon fed to them or not.

Tess's flat was on the lower level of a converted Victorian building. So intent was Sam on getting to the door that she skidded down the stone steps and would've gone hurtling into the wall had Sheelagh not leapt down to the lower level and nimbly caught her.

'Thanks,' Sam said with a grimace.

Sheelagh just smirked and began knocking on the door. When that was unsuccessful, Sam let out an impatient huff and started hammering on the window. The door swung open a few seconds later but it wasn't a young woman who came outside – it was June Ackland.

'Why are you here?' Sam asked urgently.

June glanced between. 'Sudden death.'

'Whose?' Sam pressed, the tremor in her voice more than evident. Sheelagh discreetly rested a hand on her spine, all the while dreading June's answer herself.

'Tess Garvey,' June said. 'It looks like suicide. What are you two doing here?'

Sensing that Sam was beyond responding, Sheelagh said, 'You've heard that we received an email from a suicide website last night? Sent from Abi?'

June hesitated and, quite rapidly, Sheelagh realised where the slip-up had occurred. She'd referred to her and Sam as 'we', the same as she would when talking to Gina or Phil or even Jack. It came naturally to the pair of them but it had obviously thrown June off-balance a little and Sheelagh daren't even look at Sam to see how she was taking June's confused reaction.

'I heard, yeah,' said June finally.

'Well, Tess was a contact of Abi's on that site and they arranged to meet,' Sheelagh explained. 'We were following up the lead, that's how we ended up here.'

'Can I see the body?' Sam asked suddenly.

June winced then, after looking to Sheelagh for guidance, gestured them inside. 'Sure. She's in the bedroom. Her boyfriend's in the living room. He's pretty distraught, as you can imagine.'

Sheelagh wasn't certain this was a good idea but, really, she wouldn't deny Sam anything, especially in front of June Ackland. This wasn't the time for old scores but June wasn't exactly known for her delicacy in dealing with colleagues' daughters. Sheelagh had buried it away for the sake of their working relationship but if June treated Sam with anything less than extreme care and decency she'd make sure she regretted it. Perhaps June understood that – she certainly seemed excessively deferential as they entered the bedroom.

It was carnage in there and anyone in Sam's situation would've reacted badly – except Sam, of course. Sheelagh edged closer under the guise of looking at a picture on the dressing table and managed to catch Sam's elbow with her hand. It was simple but it was enough to drag her eyes away from the mess of pills and alcohol scattered alongside the body on the bed.

'Tess's workmates say she hasn't been in for days,' Sam said to June. 'Do you know when she died?'

'Well, we'll have to wait for the PM but the boyfriend says it was early this morning,' June replied.

Sam looked around the room. 'So does he live here?'

'No, he's visiting from the States,' said June. 'Apparently he couldn't sleep so he went for a walk. When he came back he found Tess unconscious and pills and booze everywhere.'

'We need to speak to him,' Sam said after staring at an upturned pill bottle on the dresser and physically shaking herself. 'What's his name?'

She stepped towards the door then June pulled her back. Sheelagh reared up a little, ready to intervene if the need arose, but June obviously saw the movement and backed down. It was strange – Sheelagh was the most junior officer in the room and she got the feeling she was running the show. Although it was bizarre, she was grateful for the deference nonetheless. Keeping Sam in check around the boyfriend might be a tad trickier, she conceded, watching her straighten her sleeves.

'His name's Raymond. Look, the boy is devastated, Sam,' June warned before they went through to the living room. 'I honestly don't think we're gonna get anything from him.'

'I just wanna ask him a few questions,' she insisted.

June shuffled her feet. 'Are you sure you're the right person to do it?'

It only took a moment for Sam's eyes to flick towards Sheelagh and their wordless communication kicked in. Sheelagh nodded, taking the initiative and walking past the pair of them into the living room. Raymond was curled up on the sofa looking dazed and small, despite his stature. Unbidden, Sheelagh couldn't help but recall the times that Sam had broken down in her arms since all this had started and that made her kneel down in front of the sofa even more gently than she usually would've.

'Hi, Raymond,' she said, 'I'm PC Murphy. I'm really sorry about what happened to Tess. Now, you'll be questioned about what happened last night back at the station but I've got a couple of questions about someone else you might know. It's important we find her.'

Slowly, he lifted his eyes. 'Okay.'

'Great,' she replied, 'thank you. I appreciate it. Do you know a girl called Abigail Nixon? That's her mum over there,' she added, gesturing to Sam in case it helped him focus. 'Abi communicated with Tess via a website.'

'The suicide website?' he asked.

'That's right,' Sheelagh said. 'Do you know it?'

Raymond nodded. 'Tess told me about it.'

'Did you know Tess was going to commit suicide?' June questioned from somewhere across the room.

Sheelagh stifled her irritation, looking over to where Sam was stood and meeting her eye. June's tone was hardly combative but it wasn't helpful with someone as fragile as Raymond was at the moment. Once she got him back to the station, he was June's witness but, for now, Sheelagh felt a certain degree of responsibility for this man they'd stumbled across.

'Of course not,' Raymond murmured. 'I mean, I knew she suffered from depression but she said the site made her feel like she wasn't alone.'

'And did she ever mention Abi?' Sheelagh questioned.

He snorted. 'Oh, yeah.'

The alteration in his voice startled Sheelagh and, she suspected, Sam and June too. Suddenly, he seemed angry and she wasn't sure she wanted to ask what Abi had done to garner such a reaction. It was better, though, that she asked rather than Sam. She could sense the tension radiating from her girlfriend even with her back turned to her.

'You don't sound like you've got a very high opinion of Abi,' Sheelagh said carefully. 'What about Tess? Did she like Abi?'

'She trusted her,' he answered. 'On the site you get... She said you get people who are just there for a bit of fun. They're not depressed; they just want to laugh at the people who can't cope. Tess said you had to watch out for people but she trusted Abi, even though they'd only been speaking for a few weeks.'

'And did they meet in person?' Sheelagh asked. 'I know they were going to.'

He shook his head. 'No.'

'Okay.' Sheelagh made sure to meet his eye and smile as best she could. 'Does Tess have a mobile? Could you tell me the number?'

Clearing her throat, June said, 'I've got it written down here.'

The interruption had silenced Raymond and he twisted his head deep into the sofa. Perhaps it was for the best, Sheelagh conceded as she stood up. He'd obviously been through a lot in the last few hours and she didn't want to push him unnecessarily. There'd be time for further questions once they got him back to the nick.

She turned to Sam who was checking in June's notebook and saw in an instant that the number wasn't the one they were looking for. That was a blow and something she didn't quite understand. The timeframe matched up and, surely, there were only so many things Abi could be up to in any given period. She'd been running the webcam business with Sian Hicks, communicating with people via the suicide website and also colluding with someone else alongside still attending college as usual? She was truly her mother's daughter. However, it struck Sheelagh forcefully that, if Tess's phone number didn't correlate with the one they were looking for, this was probably another blind alley. It could even be another game at their expense, though rather a sick one.

Sam motioned her over. 'I think we can get more out of him. He doesn't like Abi, there's something he's not telling us.'

'I agree,' Sheelagh said, 'but I don't want to push him too hard. He might need to be checked over by the FME before he can be interviewed. We can get more out of him if we're gentle.'

'You can sit in on his interview with me,' June supplied, helpful for the first time since they'd walked into the house and Sheelagh grudgingly smiled at her.

Abruptly, Raymond sat up and started pulling on his shoes. 'I wanna go home. Back to the States.'

'Well, I'm sorry, you can't,' June replied. 'I'm afraid you have to wait until the inquest is over.'

'Tess's family will be here soon,' he said plaintively. 'I can't face them. I don't even know them.'

'I'm sure they're gonna want to talk to you,' June returned. 'They're gonna want to understand why Tess did this.'

Raymond let out another snort. 'If they talked to her more when she was alive they'd know.'

That blow might've been directed at Tess's parents but it hit Sam hard. If it hadn't been for June's presence, Sheelagh would've wrapped her arms around her. As it was, she could only throw her a pained look to try and instruct her not to berate herself too much. They both knew it wasn't clear cut with Abi's situation.

Finally, when there were fresh voices in the hallway, June said, 'Right, Raymond, we need you to come down to the station, make your witness statement. You ready for that?'

'I guess,' he muttered.

The poor lad looked broken as June led him from the room. Sheelagh heard the arrival of SOCO and could picture them going through to the bedroom and surveying the scene they'd already looked at. Sam had evidently heard it too; her chin had turned in that direction but she looked haunted herself. Sheelagh knew she had to get her out of there.

Taking her firmly by the elbow, she murmured, 'Come on.'

Sam was in a bit of a trance until they got back to the car. She went automatically round to the driver's side but, on reflection, Sheelagh followed her and took the keys out of her hand. That brought a faint smile to Sam's lips and she rounded the car to the passenger side more herself again. Even so, Sheelagh gave her a couple of minutes to adjust to all that had happened in the last hour before glancing sideways.

'What are you thinking?' she asked.

'That £20,' Sam answered. 'The location can't be coincidental. Abi was right down the street the morning after her first night away. We couldn't work out what she was doing in the area if she wasn't at college so going to see Tess makes sense.'

'Raymond said they hadn't met,' Sheelagh commented.

'Tess might not have told him,' Sam said. 'Or she wasn't working that day so it was a wasted trip. I'm just looking for some explanation as to why she was in the area, that's all.'

'I'm not poking holes,' Sheelagh replied with a smile. 'I'm just playing devil's advocate.'

Sam stretched a hand onto her thigh. 'Thanks.'

'Did you read Abi's posts on the website in detail?' asked Sheelagh.

'No, I just saw a lead and jumped at it,' Sam admitted. 'I wanted to get there before Manson got involved.'

Sheelagh covered her hand, soothing them both with a gentle circular motion. Something was niggling at her but she couldn't grasp hold of it right away. There'd been a lot to take in during the last day or so, and that was on top of the seismic changes of the last month. It hit her all of a sudden and she frowned.

'Doesn't it seem strange that we're led to Tess today?' she questioned. 'You get an email last night – the very night Tess was going to commit suicide? We've already said, nothing's coincidental about any of this.'

Sam's grip on her leg tightened. 'Do you think we were meant to stop it?'

'No,' Sheelagh said instantly. 'If Raymond couldn't stop it, there's no way we could've. Besides, whoever's running this show knows that sending an email at eight pm doesn't allow much margin for error. They probably would've calculated that we couldn't feasibly get the email before the suicide attempt so – '

'So how did Abi – or whoever clicked the button – know Tess was going to commit suicide last night?' Sam concluded for her.

Sheelagh nodded. 'Precisely. There had to be some contact somewhere. Either that or Raymond knows more than he's letting on but we've gotta be careful with him.'

They beat June back to the nick and were forced to hang around the front entrance until she arrived with Raymond. He didn't look much better for the journey and Sheelagh wondered if he'd said anything on the way over. However, June didn't make any remark so she had to assume not. Sam had imperceptibly straightened and her DS Nixon persona was back on full display as the four of them walked through into the front office. June led Raymond into the interview room but, before they could follow, Phil trotted down the stairs. He must've seen them standing outside.

'Sam,' he said with a growl. 'Where you been?'

'Locating my daughter,' she replied curtly.

Phil grimaced at her tone. 'Right, well, you didn't tell the DI about Abi's postings and he ain't happy.'

'Tough,' Sam retorted. 'I'll wait till Doomsday before he moves himself.'

Looking past them, Phil caught sight of Raymond. 'Who's he?'

'The only lead we've got,' she said, 'and if you don't mind I need to hear what he –'

'You need to bring me up to speed,' Phil cut in.

When Sam threw another pleading look in her direction Sheelagh suggested, 'How about I fill you in and Sam can sit in on the interview?'

Phil just shrugged his agreement and Sam smiled briefly before disappearing into the interview room and closing the door. Sheelagh knew that, despite her headstrong nature, she'd do her best in there to be sensitive with Raymond simply because she'd asked her to. There was something delicious about having that level of influence over Samantha Nixon and, judging from the expression on Phil's face, it was something he'd kill for right about now.

'Listen,' he said, 'why don't we talk about it over a coffee, yeah? The DI's on the warpath up there.'

A few minutes later they were sat in the far corner of the canteen and Sheelagh was detailing their morning following up Abi's communications with Tess and their discovery of the suicide. She was as open with him as she had been with the initial investigating officers about the cash withdrawals and Abi being in the same area as Tess, knowing full well that they needed someone else to believe what was frankly becoming a bizarre case. She wouldn't say she was winning him round but he did find it as strange as she and Sam did at least.

'Have you read the rest of Abi's posts?' she questioned. 'Did they exchange phone numbers?'

'They did,' he confirmed, 'but it weren't Abi's own number she gave her. I've got it written down upstairs, I'll get it for you.'

'I think I can guess but I'd appreciate it,' Sheelagh answered. 'It might be helpful if we could see Tess's phone records. Find out when Abi called; that kind of thing.'

'Yeah, I'll get on it,' Phil said then he hesitated. 'How's she doing, Sheelagh?'

She drained her cup. 'Not good. She feels a bit out on her own to be honest.'

'Good job she's got you then,' he returned and she managed a smile.

While he went upstairs to request those details for her, Sheelagh went back to the front office. However, the interview room was empty and a quick word with Marilyn told her that Raymond had been taken down to custody. She thought that was a mistake – that he'd actually been taken to the FME's office – but she rapidly discovered that wasn't the case. He was in the cells and, after questioning the custody officer about Sam's whereabouts, she learned she was waiting in an interview room. She knocked and entered, finding Sam sat at the table, head flung back as she stared at the ceiling.

'What's going on?' Sheelagh questioned.

Sam seemed to snap back to reality and her face flickered with the relief Sheelagh only ever saw when Sam caught sight of her. There was probably a corresponding look that graced her own face whenever Sam came into view.

'Raymond admitted to assisting Tess's suicide,' Sam explained.

Sheelagh sighed. 'Oh, no.'

'He left it three hours before he called an ambulance,' she continued, standing and rounding the table. 'She wanted to die so he held her and, when she was too drunk to take the pills, he helped her finish them off. Out of love, he did it out of love.'

'Come here,' Sheelagh instructed and accepted Sam into her arms. 'Did you ask him about Abi again?'

Sam shook her head against her shoulder. 'I didn't say a word to him, I didn't get the chance. Now we're stuck waiting for the duty solicitor and it's possible we won't get the chance to ask about Abi. He was meant to be a witness, not a suspect.'

'I know it's frustrating,' Sheelagh said, drawing back and meeting her gaze. 'Maybe that's why we both got the impression he was keeping something from us though. Maybe it was nothing to do with Abi at all.'

'At this rate, we might not find out,' Sam replied.

Sheelagh rolled her eyes. 'I'm not about to let you drown in pessimism now. Let's just see what happens, okay?' When Sam reluctantly nodded she added, 'Phil found something interesting. He's checking the details for me but it wasn't Abi's own mobile number that she gave to Tess. That's why those numbers don't match up. I think it was our mystery number but he'll let me know for sure.'

'Hang on, now we're saying Abi had access to the unidentified phone?' Sam queried.

'Maybe, maybe not,' Sheelagh said. 'Think about it, we've got no clue who was behind the suicide website account in the first place. It could've been Abi, it could've been someone else.'

'This accomplice,' murmured Sam. 'Do we know if they exchanged any calls or texts?'

She shook her head. 'Not yet. And we can't really trample over June's sudden death investigation now, not when it's turned into an assisted suicide. We can't,' she insisted, seeing Sam about to open her mouth. 'A bit of patience, please. Whether it's Abi behind this or someone else, they're being very careful about what they're telling us and when.'

'Okay, point taken. But Tess must've had some contact with Abi or this accomplice,' Sam pointed out. 'How else would they know that she intended to commit suicide last night?'

'Hopefully that's something we can ask Raymond about,' Sheelagh answered. 'Now, will you sit down?'

Although Sam made a valiant effort, it didn't stick for long and she began circling the room like a caged animal. Sheelagh couldn't get her to sit down again, nor did she try particularly hard. It always did Sam good to burn off excess energy and, on a slightly more frivolous level, Sheelagh would concede she liked watching her do it.

'Duty solicitor's here,' June announced, barging into the room without so much as a knock.

'About time,' Sam said as they followed June out into custody. 'Can I sit in on the interview?'

'Raymond has admitted to a very serious offence,' cautioned June. 'We've gotta follow procedure on this one.'

Seeing Sam about to argue, Sheelagh rested a hand on her arm and it choked the flow a little. She caught sight of June's raised eyebrow and realised that she'd given her yet another hint that her 'friendship' with DS Nixon wasn't all it seemed to be these days but, really, they had more important things to worry about.

The custody officer had brought Raymond out in the lull and Sheelagh felt nothing but sympathy for the man who looked even more distraught than he had an hour ago. It was hardly cold-blooded murder, even if she still believed in the sanctity of life. How could you see someone in pain and not want to help? Wasn't that what Sam had said about Polly and Dr Preston all that time ago? That if you saw someone you loved in terrible pain you'd want to help? That thought seemed entirely fitting for this moment in time.

Raymond made a beeline for Sam, pleading, 'Tess wouldn't have wanted this. She begged me to help her die. Please, I can't stand it, you've got to let go.'

'There's nothing I can do, Raymond,' Sam said, knotting her hands behind her back in a way that made Sheelagh's heart ache. 'I'm very sorry.'

'I'll talk to you,' Raymond said desperately. 'Tell you everything I know about your daughter.'

Sam stiffened. 'Have you seen her? Have you spoken to her?'

Gesturing to June, he answered, 'Get her to drop this, please.'

'I can't,' Sam replied.

The pain in her stance was overwhelming and it took all Sheelagh's self-restraint not to do something that would let June – not to mention the rest of Sun Hill – know exactly how she felt about Sam Nixon. Instead, she just had to squeeze her shoulder as Raymond was led to the duty solicitor's office for his consultation and she prepared to lead her back to the privacy of the interview room to soothe her a little.

That plan was derailed when Raymond collapsed on the threshold, doubled over in agony. If she had to guess, Sheelagh would call this the effects of an overdose but she didn't try to analyse too much as she kneeled down beside him to stabilise his condition while June called for an ambulance. When she risked a glance over her shoulder at Sam slumped against the door frame, she knew she wasn't the only one reliving Abi's overdose from last year.

The ambulance crew arrived and, thankfully, took over. As much as she sometimes missed being a nurse, Sheelagh never liked the pressure of the being the sole person responsible for keeping someone alive. She'd felt it with Abi all that time ago – and Juliet too. It was all well and good looking after someone in a well-equipped hospital with a team behind you but something else entirely to muddle through it alone. Standing, she felt Sam's hand against her spine – she'd seen her worry, of course, and was offering her support in the best way she could given where they were.

While the paramedics hoisted Raymond onto a stretcher, Sheelagh turned to Sam. 'You can't go with him, you know that.'

'Sheelagh's right,' June put in, rather unnecessarily. 'You have to clear any further involvement in this case with the DI.'

'I'll go and you can do that,' Sheelagh said before Sam could respond. 'You trust me, don't you?'

There was the one argument that Sam couldn't refute right now and Sheelagh saw with a glimmer of satisfaction that she'd won. She smiled at her girlfriend then took off after the paramedics to the ambulance, with June unfortunately at her side.

Once at the hospital, it was a waiting game. Raymond was in a bad way and all Sheelagh could do was sit in A&E and fervently hope that he pulled through. She was determined not to bow to any of June's curious looks pertaining to her relationship with Sam – it was certainly none of her business and Sheelagh was past the stage where she wanted to share personal information with Sergeant Ackland. It was confirmed as an overdose as soon as he got through the doors and that raised the question of whether he'd tried to kill himself whilst in their company or in custody. That opened a large can of worms that Sheelagh was grateful she wouldn't have to deal with and she wondered how Sam was getting on convincing the DI that she should be allowed down here regardless of that inquiry.

She got an inkling of how that particular battle was going when Phil cleared his throat in front of them.

'How's Raymond doing?' he asked.

'They're still trying to stabilise him,' she answered. 'How's Sam?'

He switched feet, glancing uneasily to June. 'Can we talk in private?'

Perturbed, she mumbled an insincere apology to June and followed him along the corridor. From his demeanour, she couldn't work out what he was about to say until the words came out of his mouth.

'Did you know she's called Hugh Wallis in?' he questioned.

Sheelagh winced and shook her head. 'No, I didn't.'

'You like him as much as I do then,' Phil remarked.

'Let's just say, he doesn't like me very much,' she replied. 'Is this to do with the language analysis I suggested?'

He nodded. 'Apparently, Hugh's got a contact so...'

'Me and my big mouth,' Sheelagh muttered. 'I appreciate the heads up. Has she had any success persuading Manson to let her down here?'

'No, but that's only gonna hold so long,' Phil said. 'You know better than anyone how stubborn she can be.'

She acknowledged that with a shrug and they returned to join June in the chairs. It quickly became clear that June was insanely intrigued about their conversation but Sheelagh took a somewhat malicious pleasure in keeping it all private. While it might not be very Christian of her, she couldn't say that June's devious activities around Niamh's funeral had been exactly Christian either.

The silence between the three of them stretched uncomfortably but Sheelagh successfully diverted her mind by wondering what fun and games Hugh Wallis would bring to proceedings. She didn't like the man and she'd hoped she'd seen the back of him after the serial rapist investigation but she could understand his uses. Naturally, anything that got them closer to Abi was a bonus right now, although she didn't know how she was meant to face him given their last little altercation.

She remembered it vividly; far more vividly than it deserved. After Sam had cracked Kennedy, Hugh had been ungraciously storming out of the nick before he spotted her. Looking back now, it was obvious that he was yet another person who'd clocked Sam's feelings for her, even if at the time it had just seemed like random hostility. Now Sheelagh understood it a bit more: he was jealous, sure, but it was far more than platonic jealousy. If she had to guess, she'd say that he had a thing for Sam and her influence over her had jarred somewhat. How that would work now was anyone's guess, though Sheelagh could hardly begrudge Sam bringing in someone who might be able to help them find Abi. It was a mess, sure; but it was just a temporary one.

Phil was getting more impatient than usual, probably as a result of sitting between her and June for so long. So, while he went to badger the doctors, Sheelagh wandered in the direction of the coffee machine. Last night had been a strange one and it was starting to tell on her a bit; not to mention the fact that she'd rather be curled up next to Sam in bed right now instead of hanging around hospital waiting to interview a suicidal man. Sometimes those fantasies still caught her unawares and she punched in the numbers to her coffee with a little more vigour than was strictly necessary.

'Hey, where are we at?'

She spun around to find Sam watching her. 'What are you doing here?'

'Disobeying a direct order,' Sam replied. 'Come on, what's going on?'

'Well, at least you're honest,' Sheelagh muttered. 'Look, they're still working on Raymond. It was definitely an overdose and he very nearly succeeded. We're waiting to speak with him.'

Sam sighed and pulled some money from her pocket. Once Sheelagh had removed her coffee, she stepped in and got one for herself then took off along the corridor with it. Sheelagh couldn't really explain the gnawing feeling in her stomach. She could only attribute it to the fact that Sam hadn't come out and said straight away that she'd seen Hugh Wallis earlier. Perhaps it was silly – there was so much going on in Sam's head at the moment that filling her in on Hugh's presence probably seemed like an unimportant sideshow to the main event. Even so, she wanted it out in the open as quickly as possible; she didn't want any secrets between them now.

'Phil said you'd called Hugh,' she said, following her along the corridor.

Sam turned around. 'Yeah, you mentioned language analysis. He was the only person I could think of who might be able to call in a favour at short notice and he did.'

It all sounded perfectly plausible but Sheelagh couldn't shake her unease. 'So what was the verdict?'

'That Abi didn't write the email,' Sam replied. 'It's too formal so he believes that someone else is involved and that backs up our theory.'

'But?' Sheelagh questioned.

'But what?' Sam returned in a combative tone then she checked herself. 'Okay, he's convinced it's an abduction but I'm keeping an open mind. I think our logic's sound,' she continued with a flash of her old self, 'and he'll have to work to convince me otherwise. In the meantime, I really wanna speak to Raymond and find out the truth. How's that?'

'Wonderful,' Sheelagh said, briefly squeezing her arm. 'Come on, they might be able to tell us something by now.'

'Perhaps I should just ask nicely,' said Sam as they walked.

Sheelagh snickered. 'How about letting me do the talking?'

'I like it when you take control,' Sam commented.

They were too near June and Phil for Sheelagh to respond the way she would've liked but she made sure to file that one away for future use. She managed to greet June outside the trauma room with a saccharine expression on her face that she was certain matched the one on Sam's, although Phil seemed to sense an undercurrent.

'Raymond and Tess made a suicide pact,' June explained. 'Now, I don't know the whole story but obviously something went terribly wrong last night.'

'Is Raymond gonna be okay?' Sam asked and Sheelagh had to work to suppress her smile at June's reaction. Sam Nixon's concern might've startled June Ackland but it didn't surprise her one bit.

'Well, they don't know,' answered June. 'Depends how he responds to treatment.'

'Will you be charging him?' questioned Sheelagh.

June shrugged. 'Depending on what more he says, I'll submit an advice file to the CPS.'

'Let me speak to him,' Sam said, her voice dropping to a whisper. While it made June and Phil grimace, it made Sheelagh feel as if she wanted to split in two. 'Please, June. Please.'

'It can't do any harm,' put in Sheelagh. 'If he's uncomfortable, we'll leave, but we need to ask him some questions about Abi while we can. We'll be gentle.'

'Perhaps if you talk to him –' June began but Sheelagh interrupted coldly.

'DS Nixon's perfectly capable of talking to a witness, Sarge,' she pointed out. 'I'm only a PC, remember.'

Earlier, she'd marvelled at the fact that she seemed to have command in a room with two sergeants and now she was deliberately disparaging herself in order to highlight June's unfair criticism that Sam couldn't handle this situation. The way Phil hid his smirk behind his hand was gratifying, but not half as gratifying as the complete adoration Sam threw in her direction.

'Of course,' June said finally. 'Shall we go in?'

She and Phil went on ahead but Sam held back and leaned in close to Sheelagh, murmuring, 'I love you so much.'

Again, Sheelagh didn't have a chance to respond but she knew she didn't have to. There was such an understanding between them that she felt warmth trickling through her body as they crossed into Raymond's room. The sight of him hooked up to machines sobered her a little, and it seemed to have a similar effect on Sam. Her first words to Raymond were as gentle as she could possibly be.

'Feeling any better?' she asked.

Raymond blinked back tears. 'I know all about the suicide website. It's where I met Tess.'

'I hear you attempted suicide as well last night,' Sam said softly.

'I couldn't even get that right,' he muttered.

Taking his hand, Sam replied, 'We'll have to agree to disagree on that. Can you tell me what happened last night?'

'We'd planned our last day for months,' he answered, 'and it was perfect. After dinner we filled Tess's room with the candles and lay on the bed holding each other.' Breaking off, he tried to unsuccessfully stem his tears before continuing, 'Then Tess started taking the pills, only she was too out of it to swallow them properly.'

'Raymond,' June said, 'I should warn you that you're still under caution.'

'She begged me to help her,' he went on, ignoring June's words. 'I refused. I couldn't do it. But she said that if I really loved her I would. I couldn't stand to lose Tess but what could I do? She wanted to die. She was groaning, writhing in agony. I wanted to call emergency services but she yelled at me not to.'

'Shush, shush,' Sam murmured as he started to cry, 'it's okay.'

'I wish I wasn't here,' he answered. 'I was desperate to die with Tess. I couldn't do it. I saw how much agony she was in, I couldn't go through the same. I was a coward.'

'No, you weren't,' Sam said with utter sincerity. 'Now, Raymond, I need to ask, did Abi get in contact with Tess outside of the website?'

He nodded. 'They exchanged texts. Like I said earlier, she thought Abi was on our side but I didn't think so. I didn't think her postings were serious.'

'And why's that?' questioned Sam, so carefully that only Sheelagh would've been able to spot the relief in her voice.

'She appeared out of nowhere,' Raymond answered. 'She gained Tess's trust. I mean, it'd taken me a year to get Tess to the point where she'd talk to me about how she wanted to die but she told Abi within a week. It was like she'd ingratiated herself somehow but I really didn't understand it.'

'Abi's disappeared, Raymond,' Sam said after a moment, 'and one of the last transactions on her bank card was a few doors down from the shop where Tess worked. Is it possible they met and Tess didn't tell you?'

He frowned. 'I guess. Why does it matter?'

'To be honest, I don't know,' replied Sam and Sheelagh discreetly pressed a hand to her lower back. 'It just might be significant that we were led to you and Tess today of all days.'

'Why?' he queried.

'I don't know,' Sam repeated with a smile. 'Anyway, thank you for talking to me. I won't bother you any longer, okay? But, listen to me, Raymond,' she went on, holding his gaze. 'I'm gonna leave you my card, all right? If you need to talk, call me. I promise I won't ask you any more questions.'

Fresh tears filled his eyes and he nodded again. Sam took her leave first and Sheelagh followed her, leaving June and Phil behind to explain to Raymond what would happen next with his assisted suicide charge. Sheelagh caught up with Sam a little way along the corridor and rubbed her shoulder.

'You know,' she said as Sam turned back towards her, 'for an ice queen you do a nice side line in heartfelt sympathy.'

'Only since I met you, funnily enough,' Sam said. 'No, he's in enough pain as it is without me piling it on. What?' she questioned when Sheelagh smiled at her.

'I love you, that's all,' she answered. Seeing Sam blush, she swiftly continued, 'So are we saying there's nothing else we can get out of this?'

Sam shrugged. 'Unless something turns up in Tess's texts to Abi and, I mean, it's looking likely they didn't speak or meet. Realistically, we have no proof it was Abi she was actually in contact with.'

'What Raymond said about Abi ingratiating herself sounded odd to me,' Sheelagh said. 'Don't get me wrong, I know that she's clever but she is only sixteen. And why would she want to? What is this? A warning shot or a reminder that Abi's missing?'

'Can I ask the questions and you answer them?' Sam queried with a pained expression.

'Darling, I wish I could,' she replied. Footsteps behind them warned her of the public setting and she amended her tone accordingly. 'So what's the next step?'

'Well, Hugh's still at the station,' Sam said. 'I'll have a chat with him about the language analysis and whether we might be able to convince the DI that Abi didn't write that email.'

'Okay, let me know what he says,' Sheelagh returned. 'You can give me a lift back to –'

'Actually, Sheelagh,' June cut in from along the corridor, 'can I keep you here for a few minutes? We'll make our way back together.'

She rolled her eyes at Sam then turned to face June. 'Course, Sarge.'

'I'll see you back at the nick,' Sam said loudly. Then, squeezing past much more closely than was necessary, whispered into her ear, 'Someone's been naughty.'

Although Sheelagh tried to smooth down her amusement as Sam disappeared down the corridor with Phil in tow, she knew she wasn't completely successful from the expression on June's face. When they were both sergeants, Sheelagh had held June in certain regard. They'd worked well together and they had a similar outlook that contrasted pretty neatly with Smithy and Gina's. Over time, of course, Sheelagh came to appreciate their no-nonsense policing as a natural extension of her affection for Sam's personal style but she'd retained respect for June right up until her deceit about Niamh's funeral. Now she simply disliked what she saw as hypocrisy and she was only willing to keep it to herself on the grounds that she was a lowly constable with no clout these days.

'It might not be my place to say,' June began while they walked slowly towards the exit, 'but I'm wondering if you're too close to this.'

Sheelagh dug her hands into her pockets. 'Excuse me?'

'Well, officially you're Samantha's FLO, aren't you?' June questioned.

'Yes,' she said coolly. 'What's your point?'

Tapping her hat, June replied, 'I can't help noticing that your relationship isn't very professional. I wonder what Inspector Gold would say.'

'I think you'd find she's completely on board with it,' Sheelagh said. 'There's nothing in my relationship with Samantha that Inspector Gold and DCI Meadows aren't completely aware of. Does that alleviate your concerns, Sarge?'

June looked like she'd swallowed a lemon. 'Yes. Yes, it does.'

'Good,' Sheelagh muttered. 'Now, was there anything else?'

When June shook her head she took off swiftly along the corridor. Since they'd both come in the ambulance, there was no transportation waiting for either of them and, really, Sheelagh appreciated the walk back to the nick. It gave her time to cool down and combat her urge to dunk June Ackland straight into a toilet bowl. She was under no illusions: that desire came directly out of the Samantha Nixon handbook and Sam would've likely followed through on it as well.

She walked in via the yard and went straight upstairs. To her disappointment, Sam wasn't there and Phil shot her a wry smile from his own desk.

'Last I heard, she was heading downstairs to consult the crank,' he explained.

Sheelagh snorted. 'I'd hoped he might've gone. Listen, I'm off to get changed. Would you tell her I'm back if you see her?'

'Will do,' Phil said with a mini-salute.

Going back downstairs, Sheelagh spared a moment to marvel at the alteration in Phil Hunter since her arrival at the station eighteen months ago – or, at least, the alteration in his relationship with Sam. For some crazy reason, Sheelagh found she liked him these days, even if his policing methods probably still left something to be desired. He could be quite a useful ally to have around the station, especially now he wasn't actively plotting against Sam.

She was almost finished getting changed when the door opened and closed. The footsteps around the other side of the lockers were those she'd recognise a mile away and, as she buttoned her shirt, she found her fingers slowing down. Her eyes were trained on the edge of the lockers and, when Sam appeared, Sheelagh was pleased to see the flicker of desire on her face.

'Hi,' Sheelagh said softly.

'Let me,' Sam replied, stepping forward and nudging her hands away from the buttons. With slow and deliberate motions, she finished buttoning up the shirt then said, 'There, now I can think straight.'

'That's unfortunate,' Sheelagh commented.

Sam chuckled. 'Behave, PC Murphy, we're at work.'

'I'm very sorry,' she answered in as unapologetic tone as she could accomplish. 'Maybe we could finish this conversation elsewhere?'

'Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about,' Sam said and Sheelagh's heart sank. 'Hugh's insisting on taking me for dinner. He wants to talk theories. Look, ordinarily, I'd want you there with me but I'd rather not tell him about us right now.'

Sheelagh tilted her head to the side. 'Why not?'

'Hugh's had an opinion on everything I've ever done,' Sam said with a shrug. 'Right now, I need his help, not his judgement.'

'Judgement?' Sheelagh repeated. 'That sounds a bit severe.'

Glancing around the locker bank to check they were still alone, Sam said, 'Let's just say I know how his mind works and he won't understand why this – us – is perfect. I can't be bothered to explain and I don't need any approval from anyone except you and Abi, okay? So I'll have dinner with him, I'll pick his brains and I won't give him any opening to comment on my choices. Is that all right?'

With a soft smile, Sheelagh kissed her briefly. 'You're getting better at this talking thing, you know.'

'Well, I'm trying,' Sam said, brushing a thumb over her cheek. 'I've gotta go. I'll call you later.'

Sheelagh nodded and watched her leave with a mix of emotions. Her skin was still bristling from the sensation of Sam buttoning up her shirt and she was positively proud of the way Sam had explained herself and called their relationship 'perfect'. On the other hand, the thought of Sam having dinner alone with Hugh filled her with dread, not to mention the fact that it had just occurred to her that this meant Sam wouldn't spend the evening – and, by extension, night – with her. Sleeping beside her had become a ritual that Sheelagh didn't particularly want to break and she was already dreading her cold, empty bed. However, it was probably time to check the house was still standing under Connor's care anyway. She was determined to look on the positive side as she walked home, even as her stomach twisted with the uncertainty of what Hugh might be saying to Sam right about now.

When she got back she was pleased she hadn't called ahead. She quietly let herself in to hear the television blaring and crept through into the living room. Connor was there, surrounded by beer cans and piles of DVDs, some of which had very interesting titles from what she could see. Fortunately, what he was watching at the moment was a vintage episode of Scooby Doo.

'Are you okay there?' she asked.

He leapt from the sofa, spilling his drink down his trousers. 'Mum, are you trying to kill me?'

'I might if you don't tidy my living room up,' she retorted, giving him a lopsided hug. 'Have you eaten?'

'Hang on, why are you here?' he questioned as she went through to the kitchen.

'I live here,' she said. 'You want pasta?'

'Mum, hey,' he said firmly. 'Talk to me, come on.'

Reluctantly, she turned back to him. 'It's a long story, the last few days. Do you mind if we wait until I get something to eat? I'm starving. I haven't had a thing since breakfast.'

'Sure,' he answered, 'and I'll tidy up.'

'You could finish your episode of Scooby Doo,' she suggested.

He swatted her arm. 'It was just on, that's all.'

'There was me thinking you were engrossed,' she shot back.

At least with a task at hand, she could keep her mind away from Sam and Hugh. A few days of Connor's loving care and the house was a little bit sticky so she busied herself with cleaning the kitchen while the pasta cooked. By the time she dished up, the surfaces were sparkling and Connor bobbed his head sheepishly around the door frame.

'Is it safe to come in?' he asked.

'I'm just impressed you haven't set fire to the place,' she replied. 'How many pizzas have you eaten exactly?'

'Never mind that,' he said. 'What's going on? Where's Sam? Have you found Abi?'

She passed him a fork. 'Not yet. Sam's having dinner with someone who might be able to help.'

Absorbing that, Connor questioned, 'So did you finally get... I mean, are you... Oh, come on,' he continued with a grimace, 'you're making me suffer. Are you two together now?'

'Yes,' she said shortly and he grinned. 'Shut up and eat.'

During the next hour, she filled him in on most of what had happened in the last few days. It helped talking about the case-related aspects of things, although she was selective about what she told him about her and Sam. It was enough for him to know that they'd crossed the line; she didn't particularly want to share any other details with her son, however supportive he was. They spent quite a pleasant evening catching up and Sheelagh realised how much she'd missed him over the last couple of days. It was significant, though, that she hadn't missed the house one bit. This didn't yet feel like home and she was far more comfortable in Sam's living room than she was in her own. If Connor had been transplanted into Sam's house then she'd feel as though she was home. That wasn't entirely true, of course: there was still Siobhan and Declan to consider, not to mention Abi to bring home, but it'd be one step closer to a perfection she couldn't remember longing for since she was an idealistic young nurse.

Around ten, the doorbell rang. She glanced to Connor, wondering if he was expecting someone, but he looked as perplexed as she did. When she went to answer it she found Sam leaning against the wall with a little smile on her face and the knot she hadn't realised was occupying her stomach unravelled completely.

'Hi,' Sam said.

'Hi,' Sheelagh returned intimately then remembered her manners and stepped aside. 'Sorry, come in.'

'Mum, who is it?' Connor called. Emerging from the living room just as Sam closed the door behind her, he cleared his throat. 'Great, cool. I'll be upstairs.'

Sam smirked as he fled up the stairs. 'Hi, Connor,' she shouted after him. To Sheelagh, she queried, 'Have I offended him again?'

'He just saw his mum's girlfriend for the first time,' Sheelagh replied. 'I think we can cut him some slack.'

'When you put it like that...' Sam trailed off then reached out, almost hesitantly. 'I was gonna go home but then I realised you wouldn't be there and I didn't think I could take it. I'm not sure I can sleep without you next to me but if it's gonna cause problems –'

Sheelagh silenced her with a lengthy kiss that somehow ended with Sam's hands trailing through the buttons she'd so diligently fastened earlier. Drawing away, Sheelagh settled her arms around her waist.

'I was having the same thoughts,' she admitted. 'It's only been a few hours but I've missed you.'

'Would Connor mind if I stayed?' Sam questioned.

'I'll ask but I'm pretty certain he'll say it's fine,' Sheelagh said. 'Why don't you pour yourself a glass of something and I'll be right back?'

Sam kissed her again. 'I'll pour you one too.'

It took a moment for Sheelagh to shake herself into movement once Sam had disappeared into the kitchen. Then she swallowed down her clump of emotions and climbed the stairs to Connor's room. As soon as she knocked, he shouted for her to come in and she found him perched on his bed a little stiffly.

'Is everything okay?' he asked.

'Fine, fine,' she answered. 'Sam wants your permission to stay, that's all.'

His brow creased. 'In your room?'

Wincing, she closed the door. 'I know this is moving a little fast but it's not how you think. This isn't the kind of thing I want to discuss with you but we haven't... She has trouble sleeping, she has nightmares.'

'Oh, you mean you're not...' He let out a relieved sigh. 'That's great. I mean, not that you –'

'Enough,' she cut in, holding up a hand. 'This is awkward enough as it is. All I'm saying is that Abi's missing and Sam needs my support, if that's all right with you.'

'That's cool,' he answered. 'That's fine. I'll stay out of your way.'

As she descended the stairs, the absurdity of the entire situation struck her and, when she walked into the kitchen to find Sam sipping a glass of wine, she finally burst out laughing. It must've been infectious because, despite not knowing what on earth was going on, Sam joined in too.

'Well, that was memorable,' Sheelagh said as she sat down and took the wine glass Sam pushed into her hands. 'Remind me never to do it again.'

'Noted,' Sam said. 'Does he want me to go?'

Sheelagh shook her head. 'Now we've clarified the terms and conditions, he's perfectly happy. Just you keep your hands to yourself, DS Nixon, or we'll both be out on the street.'

Grinning, Sam replied, 'I will if you will.'

'How was dinner?' Sheelagh questioned, mainly to bring them both back to earth with a bump. It worked; Sam's ease disappeared and she began toying with the stem of her glass while Sheelagh braced herself with a long gulp of wine.

'Hugh's set on the abduction theory,' Sam admitted. 'He wants to build a profile of a potential kidnapper. He's coming round to the house tomorrow to get started properly.'

Sheelagh ignored the way that made her stomach swirl. 'Well, what did you talk about over dinner?'

'You know, I'm not entirely sure,' answered Sam. 'He was interested in the suicide website and whether someone could've sent that email instead of Abi. I suppose we mostly spoke about that.'

The vagueness troubled Sheelagh but she sensed it wasn't Sam hiding anything from her; more a sudden realisation that not much had come out of her discussion with Hugh. In Sheelagh's eyes, he'd just wanted a chance to take her to dinner and Abi had probably been the last thing on his mind. She didn't like this spurt of jealousy that overtook her when she thought about Hugh Wallis and she endeavoured to hide it in front of Sam – she had enough on her plate without dealing with her irrationality. It was likely that their little row about Cavanaugh the other night hadn't helped matters: she knew exactly what Hugh wanted from Sam and it reminded her all too much of what Cavanaugh had already had.

'What did you tell him about Abi's motives?' she asked eventually.

'Not much,' Sam said. 'He didn't ask. He jumped straight to the idea of abduction and I didn't wanna complicate matters.'

Sheelagh bit her lip. 'And what are you thinking?'

'The same as I was thinking first thing this morning,' answered Sam. 'That we're being spoon fed by someone other than Abi but the timing of her disappearance is too coincidental not to be related to you and me.'

That response reassured her, though she didn't say that. Instead, she focused on finishing her wine, suddenly overcome by a wave of fatigue brought on by the emotional upheaval of the day. It seemed Sam was struggling with the same thing because she went quiet too and just reached across to wind their fingers together as they drank.

'Bed?' Sheelagh suggested when they'd finished.

With a smile, Sam queried, 'Is my toothbrush still on the windowsill?'

'Where else would it be?' Sheelagh retorted. 'You can sleep in one of my night shirts, they're in the second drawer down. I'll be up in a minute.'

Methodically tidying up the kitchen soothed her mind while she imagined Sam getting ready for bed. It also distracted her from the thoughts about Hugh's intentions that were plaguing her. The idea that he'd be spending tomorrow at Sam's – with Sheelagh implicitly excluded from the invitation – wasn't welcome news at all. While he was running with the abduction theory, the more likely accomplice theory was being left unattended to. Well, not quite, she conceded, because she wouldn't let it go. Perhaps it was best for them to be working on separate angles; it was just that she'd prefer Sam to be working on the accomplice angle with her tomorrow.

Upstairs, she retrieved one of her novelty Disney nightshirts without looking at Sam already sat in her bed. It took less time than usual to speed through her bedtime routine and she was regretting her garment of choice almost the moment she stepped out of the bathroom. It had just been that, with very little else to offer Sam, she'd thought both of them wearing only a long shirt might be the answer. It occurred to her too late that this was going to be a new form of torture akin to last night's massage. The look on Sam's face betrayed a similar train of thought but Sheelagh had to accept that it was something they both wanted to experience. Perhaps it was better like this – absolute baby steps. It'd mean that when they finally crossed that line it'd feel as natural as the rest of their relationship did.

She shut the door and turned off the light then edged towards the bed. Sam was ready to accept her into her arms and, aside from the small matter that they weren't entirely alone in the house, this was no different to the other nights they'd spent wrapped up in each other.

'You were brilliant with Raymond earlier,' Sheelagh said softly.

Sam entwined their bare legs and Sheelagh tried in vain to ignore the spasm of longing that sent rippling through her body. 'He's someone's son, he's so unhappy that he wanted to kill himself and today he lost the woman he loved. I can't imagine what he's going through, Sheelagh.'

Searching out her lips in the darkness, she spent a good few minutes trying to explain her reaction to that comment without words. It was crazy how much her Sam differed from the one everybody at the station – and Abi – knew. When she finally settled into her arms again their legs were clammy with sweat and Sam's breathing was ragged.

'I love you,' Sam murmured before she succumbed to sleep.

Sheelagh was awake a little longer, savouring the delight of being this close on a night where she thought they'd be apart. The prospect of Hugh Wallis still loomed large in her imagination but he could never beat this, surely. Her bond with Sam was beyond anything he could conceive of. After all, they'd got to this point without anyone getting in their way – apart from themselves, of course.


She awoke before Sam the next morning and slipped out of the bed as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake her. When she pulled the covers back, though, she found that Sam's nightshirt had ridden up above her waist, revealing white lacy underwear that set Sheelagh's body aflame. She successfully doused the thoughts in a semi-cold shower but she was under no illusions that they wouldn't recur the moment she had some time to herself. That's why she went through the ritual of cooking a big breakfast for Connor and let Sam sleep as long as possible. She needed the rest, that was her reasoning, but it was more that she was scared of the feelings that might pop up if they faced each other now.

Thanks to her equivocation, Connor had eaten and gone before Sam arrived in the kitchen. She was a little dishevelled but sill as gorgeous as ever and Sheelagh's mouth went dry at the recollection of what was underneath those practical work trousers. To cover, she put the kettle on for a fresh pot of tea and began plating up some more bacon sandwiches.

Then Sam's arms were around her waist and she couldn't think clearly. Turning around, she met her gaze and melted into a kiss that left both of them out of breath. How kissing Sam could be so simplistically arousing wasn't something Sheelagh was entirely clear about but she did know that it was becoming more difficult daily to keep this at the level they'd decided on. She wanted more and, however much they'd acknowledged they couldn't have anything else till Abi returned, the fire was tricky to quell.

'I don't like waking up without you there,' Sam said when they separated.

'But do you like breakfast waiting for you?' Sheelagh asked.

'If it's a choice...' Sam let the thought trail off and took the offered plate. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' she lied. 'I've gotta go in a bit if I'm back to normal duties and not haring around after you all day.'

That had come out more accusatory than she'd intended and it took Sam a few moments to comprehend that she was irritated about Hugh rather than all the time they'd been spending on Abi's disappearance. Sheelagh knew precisely when that realisation occurred from the way that Sam began gnawing on her lip. It was endearing, it was intoxicating; but it was also a sure fire sign of guilt. That unconscious habit was going to come in handy in the future, Sheelagh was sure.

Sam cleared her throat. 'Connor okay?'

'Seems to be,' she answered. 'A little bit bashful but I like embarrassing him.'

'Has he told Patrick he's gay yet?' Sam questioned.

'Not to my knowledge,' she said. 'He would've told me if he had. I think Siobhan or Declan would've got straight on the phone as well. It'll be big news.'

Cringing, Sam murmured, 'Great.'

Sheelagh chuckled. 'I'm trying not to think about it, I suggest you don't either.'

After finishing her breakfast, Sam stood and went in search of her coat and bag. Sheelagh followed her into the hall, feeling a bit churned up and not really understanding why. Perhaps it was the idea that Sam would be spending the day hypothesising with Hugh and not her, or just the renewed reminder that they had a lot of hurdles to overcome with her kids as well as needing to find Abi. Whatever it was, the goodbye kiss that she gave Sam in the hallway was infused with far more than just good wishes for the day. It must've been obvious – Sam looked slightly stunned as she drew back and groped for the handle more like an anxious teenager than a respected detective.

'I'll call you later,' she promised before she closed the door.

Biting her lip, Sheelagh absorbed the silence. 'I hope so.'


Whatever had triggered it, the sense of foreboding percolated in her stomach as the day wore on.

She was paired with Tony, luckily enough; a friend who seemed to be intimately acquainted with her relationship with Sam but didn't feel the need to discuss it. One day she'd thank him for the pep talk he'd apparently given Sam at the wedding but, for now, she was eager to concentrate on work as a distraction. In his own way, Tony grasped that and helped her throw herself into every little altercation they passed on the streets. He might've wanted a quiet life in general but he was more than happy to help her out today.

They only stopped briefly for refs then spent most of the afternoon chasing a gang of youths around the Jasmine Allen. By the time the shift finished she was pleasantly exhausted, though it hadn't escaped her notice that Sam hadn't yet called. Maybe, she reasoned, she was just waiting until her shift ended, just trying to be considerate. Even so, Sheelagh didn't trust Hugh as far as she could throw him and she wondered what ideas he'd tried talking Sam into today.

'There you are,' Phil said, striding along the corridor towards them. 'I've been looking for you.'

Tony glanced between them then said, 'See you later, Sheelagh.'

She only managed a nod, conscious of the perturbed expression on Phil's face. 'What is it?'

'I went round to Sam's before,' he explained. 'The DCI told me she's having a couple of days off and, with you being in the nick, I thought she could do with a bit of company.'

'That's very thoughtful,' Sheelagh said. 'Let me guess, she already had company.'

'Oh, yeah,' he muttered. 'You knew he was going round?'

'I wasn't exactly invited,' she admitted, crossing her arms. 'Sam doesn't want to tell him about me and her but, between us, he spotted how she felt way back when they were investigating Alan Kennedy. He knows what's going on.'

Phil scowled. 'I bet he does. Seriously, he's filling her mind with all sorts. It's like she's a different person around him.'

'How do you mean?' she questioned.

Lowering his voice, he said, 'Look, she's herself around you, all right? It's just that she's nicer about it.' Sheelagh snickered and he went on, 'But, with him, it's like she's had a personality transplant. She's just listening to him, hanging on his every word. While he's chucking out all this fancy crap about abduction profiles, she's just nodding along. She weren't like this when they were investigating Kennedy, was she?'

'No, she wasn't,' Sheelagh replied. 'She's vulnerable now though. She wants someone to give her the answers because she's starting to think she can't find them herself.'

'He threw me out of there,' Phil said. 'As soon as I started pointing out why we can't treat this as an abduction with all we know about Abi, he riled her up. You don't believe someone's abducted her, do you?'

She shook her head. 'Like I said yesterday, I think it started off as a game and now it's gone wrong. I think there's someone else involved but I don't think it started out as a cut and dried abduction. When I left her this morning, she was on board with that.'

'Well, a few more hours with him and she'll be petitioning the Home Secretary to take it seriously,' Phil returned. 'Do yourself a favour, Sheelagh. Get round there before he talks her into anything. You and me both know what he's after, yeah? It's sod all to do with Abi's welfare.'

'I know,' she muttered. 'Thanks for telling me, Phil.'

Shrugging, he said, 'You've taken your sweet time getting it together. Don't let that smarmy prat screw it up for you.'

'I don't intend to,' she replied.

Thank goodness her shift was over. She rapidly changed and was out of the nick before she had chance to think much about it. Only as she drove to Sam's did she recall that she wasn't going to be completely welcome. Barging in here like this went against all of Sam's unspoken wishes about keeping her and Hugh apart but, Sheelagh reasoned, their previous agreements were out of the window now that Hugh was intent on ingratiating himself. Phil's words about Sam not seeming herself had struck a chord and, yes, part of it was a jealous chord. Her initial dislike of Hugh months ago had solidified into a distinct aversion thanks mainly to Sam's deliberate attempt to keep them separate. Why would she do that if there was nothing to worry about?

It wasn't that she didn't trust Sam; that wasn't the problem. With everything they'd been through in the last week, combined with the fact that Sam had been in love with her for well over a year by now, Sheelagh knew that any advances from Hugh would be met with a blatant refusal. He might want to play the white knight but Sam already had one of those and Sheelagh was under no illusions that Sam would never open her heart to anyone else the way she had to her. It was a once in a lifetime thing for Samantha Nixon and Sheelagh didn't underestimate the privilege of her being the one to shatter the ice. Hugh could never do that, so why was she rushing round there to check on them?

Perhaps it was one thing to trust Sam and another completely to allow Hugh any rope. If Phil was right, he'd spent the entire day coaxing Sam around to his abduction theory. Keeping it in the melting pot was all well and good but too many things jarred for Sheelagh. If this was an abduction then it hadn't started off as one. She didn't want to have to convince Sam of everything they already knew – the other night's antics had been traumatic enough. They might've come out of that stronger than ever but Hugh wasn't conducting machinations off at the side then, was he? It was that spurring her on, she conceded as she pulled up.

Sam's car was absent from the street. Unsure how that fitted into things, Sheelagh used the key that Sam had given her and immediately felt the presence of someone in the house. For a moment, she entertained the hope it might be Abi then Hugh walked out of the living room.

'That was...' He broke off as he saw her and his ingratiating expression slipped. 'Oh, PC Murphy. I didn't realise you had a key.'

'Where's Sam?' she asked politely.

'Gone to the shops,' he answered. 'I can tell her you called round.'

'I'll wait,' she said with a false smile.

Brushing past him, she went straight through to the kitchen. There were dirty cups in the sink and the whole house seemed pickled in his aftershave. Nevertheless, Sheelagh ignored any suggestion that this wasn't an entirely proper way to conduct an investigation into a missing girl and went about making herself a cup of tea with the serene air she'd cultivated from years of practice with the boys. Treating Hugh like an adolescent was strangely satisfying.

'Can I make you one?' she queried.

'No, thank you,' he muttered.

He watched her through the entire process with his arms crossed and a barely concealed sneer on his face. It was some comfort to know that she had the run of this place whereas he was merely an invited guest. She took a sort of malicious delight in imagining how he'd react if she told him about her first kiss with Sam in the living room and that massage she'd given her upstairs just the other night. Sitting down at the table, she scanned the papers there with mild interest. It was all psychological babble that Sheelagh only held in any esteem because of Sam – in the hands of Dr Hugh Wallis it was nothing more than twaddle for her.

'Sam didn't mention you were still friends,' he said finally.

Sheelagh stretched her legs out underneath the table. 'Why would she? This is a professional consultation, isn't it?'

'Well, she and I go back a long way,' he answered. 'I've known Abi for years, I've got a vested interest in bringing her home.'

'A vested interest?' she repeated. 'I would've thought a professional one would suffice.'

Abruptly, his veneer of tolerance disappeared. It was as though he'd realised that she didn't have any time for him whatsoever and that trying to win her round would be of absolutely no use.

'I suppose you're with the rest of them, aren't you?' he queried coldly. 'Everybody at the station's under the impression that Abi's just run away to teach her mum a lesson, aren't they? Phil Hunter certainly is and you don't strike me as someone who disagrees with a consensus, Sheelagh.'

She held his gaze. 'I wasn't aware you knew anything about me.'

'Station gossip,' Hugh retorted, leaning against the door jamb. 'You'd be surprised at how talkative people can be. PC Kent, I think, was particularly helpful when I was there. He told me all about your past. You've had quite an eventful time of it since you arrived at Sun Hill, haven't you?'

Although she bristled at him putting Niamh under the umbrella of 'eventful', she held her temper. It struck her that she knew what he was doing: he didn't want her to see Sam and reassert some of the natural influence she had over her. It meant he was uncertain of his success today and trying to wind her up into leaving was the only way he could think of to divert her attempts to bring Sam back away from whatever they'd been discussing earlier. Now she recognised that, Sheelagh could better deal with his antagonism.

'I don't see what my past's got to do with anything,' she answered.

'You didn't answer the question,' he said. 'Do you agree with everyone else that this is all Abi's doing?'

'Why does it bother you what I think?' she queried.

'It doesn't,' he replied. 'I just don't want Samantha going backwards, that's all. I've spent most of the day reminding her to look at the facts instead of kowtowing to the emotion brought on from everyone thinking Abi hates her. This isn't the game of a sixteen year old girl, it's too complex. Sam needs to recognise that and I don't think you're helping.'

'No,' she said after a moment, 'I think we established what you think the last time we met, don't you? But your opinion doesn't matter to me,' she went on, sipping her tea. 'I suggest we just ignore each other until Abi comes home.'

'What is it you're expecting to happen when we find her?' Hugh questioned. 'I think it's fairly clear what you want by now but it's not gonna happen, trust me on that. Sam flirts with the idea of someone insipid looking after her but that's not what she needs. You're not what she needs.'

Her stomach somersaulted. 'You don't know a thing.'

'I know you've latched onto her as someone who can help your career,' he retorted. 'It's nothing more than that.'

'How about we sit in silence until Sam gets back?' Sheelagh suggested. 'We'll never agree on anything.'

She got the sense that she was frustrating him intensely. Of course, he was banking on her being stupider than she actually was - and being far more uncertain of Sam than she was as well. So what if she hadn't recognised her feelings for Sam during the serial rapist investigation that Hugh was a part of? It didn't mean that her affection had been any less sincere than it was now and he'd obviously spotted it. His disdain at the time only made sense with that in mind. Correspondingly, he knew exactly how Sam felt about her too and the 'judgement' that Sam had mentioned last night was raining down in full force right now. What he thought he'd get out of it was beyond her. Most people would at least maintain the illusion of civility in such a situation but he seemed determined to force them into an argument. She concentrated on her tea in order to avoid looking at him, willing Sam to arrive back sooner rather than later.

He sniggered suddenly, drawing her attention back to him. 'Do you know how I know that it's nothing serious, nothing more than a bit of harmless flirting?'

'I'm sure you're gonna enlighten me,' she said.

'Well,' he continued conversationally, 'one of us has had her and the other hasn't. That's blindingly obvious from where I'm sitting.'

Stiffening, she tried not to let him see the almost visceral response those words had triggered. It was one thing to assume some sort of one-sided crush or a mutual flirtation from years ago, quite another to hear that they'd actually slept together. It was all well and good reminding herself that he'd been goading her into a reaction but the spurt of jealousy that had occurred when she saw Sam with Cavanaugh was nothing like the one she was experiencing right now. As it burned through her stomach, she heard the front door slam and understood in a moment what had happened – he'd heard Sam's car and had decided to throw that little morsel of information at her just when she didn't have time to digest it.

Even knowing she was handing him a victory, she couldn't help but stand up. She had to get away from the smarmy prat – as Phil had called him – before the images circling her brain overtook her. It wasn't about jealousy, though it played a part, but more about the fundamental lack of truth. Now she knew exactly what Sam had felt guilt over first thing this morning and, suddenly, the intimacy Sheelagh had thought was unique between them was buried under an avalanche of visuals that she really didn't need. Maybe this was as much residual anger about Cavanaugh as anything but it didn't mean she could control it any better for recognising that. Stepping into the hallway, she found Sam depositing a plastic bag onto the floor with a frown on her face.

'Sheelagh,' she said, 'what's going – Hey, what's wrong?'

'Outside,' Sheelagh muttered. 'Now.'

Sam threw a perplexed glance towards the living room where she evidently knew Hugh was before following her outside onto the path. Scrutinising her face, Sheelagh tried to work out why the revelations about her and Hugh had triggered such a reaction but she didn't suppose it mattered. The simple fact was that the gnawing feeling that started yesterday as soon as Phil had mentioned Hugh's name had just erupted and there was nothing she could do about it.

'Sheelagh?' Sam queried carefully. 'Has something happened with the investigation?'

'Why didn't you tell me you'd slept with him?' she retorted.

Sam's lips parted and she blinked. 'Erm, I... Look, it was a long time ago, okay? It was a bit of a disaster actually, I've done my best to forget it. What the hell have you two been talking about in there? I said I'd call.'

'Now I know why,' Sheelagh said with a snicker. 'Why didn't you just tell me?'

'Because after the other night, I thought that it was best to just...' Sam swallowed and a combative expression wormed its way onto her face. 'I need his input on this, okay?'

'No, you don't,' replied Sheelagh firmly. 'He's just talking you into the abduction theory and you know why? So he can stick around and help.'

'It's a plausible line of inquiry,' Sam said. 'This is about finding Abi, nothing else. You know that Jack and Manson aren't gonna take either the abduction or accomplice theories seriously until we give them some evidence.'

'We were working on evidence,' Sheelagh shot back. 'We've got an untapped resource of conversations and contacts from the suicide website, Tess's text messages and then there's that damn phone that we can't get a handle on. Come on, Sam, those are facts. He should be pushing you towards looking at them but he's not, is he? It suits him to convince you that this is a cut and dried abduction, even when we've got evidence to the contrary.'

Sam was staring at her with a degree of incredulity in her face. 'He's open-minded about it. I thought you were as well.'

'I am,' she said, rubbing her forehead viciously. 'I just think we were getting somewhere without him, that's all.'

'We obviously weren't,' Sam pointed out. 'Listen, you're upset and you're being irrational. Why don't you go –'

'I'm not being irrational,' Sheelagh interjected. 'I want Abi home as much as you do and we've being getting somewhere, working together. Now, I'm sorry, I don't have a PhD to back up my theories but we were doing okay before he turned up yesterday.'

Stretching out a hand, Sam said, 'I don't understand what's going on here, sweetheart.'

Sheelagh took a step back. 'You weren't supposed to be keeping secrets from me anymore. Why didn't you just tell me you'd slept with him?'

'Because we were okay again after the other night and I didn't wanna rock the boat,' Sam answered with a wince. 'Now, all right, I recognise that was wrong and I should've been completely honest but I didn't lie about why I don't want him knowing about us. He'd have an opinion and I don't need it.'

'Are you sure about that?' Sheelagh questioned. 'You seem to value his opinion on everything else. Come on, while we're at it, what else haven't you told me? Anybody else I should know about? Have you slept with Phil Hunter by any chance?' It was meant in jest but she was horrified by the flicker of Sam's eyes. 'Tell me you haven't.'

'Of course I haven't,' Sam returned. 'I nearly kissed him though, if we're being honest. Not recently, it wasn't –'

'When?' cut in Sheelagh then she held up a hand. 'It was in the tunnel, wasn't it? That explains your selective amnesia. Oh, I knew there was something about that you weren't telling me.'

'I'm trying to be honest,' Sam said, her voice quivering. 'Look, come inside. I'll ask Hugh to go –'

'Don't bother,' Sheelagh interrupted. 'A day with him and you're like the woman everyone warned me about.'

Sam's brow creased. 'Sheelagh, don't say that. I don't know what's going on here but we can –'

'If you're gonna tell him to go,' Sheelagh said, crossing her arms, 'then make it permanent. We don't need his help. Tell him that and we'll find Abi ourselves.'

Although Sam opened her mouth, she hesitated. Maybe if she hadn't, Sheelagh would've stuck around to be placated. As it was, her irritation overflowed and she spun around. Knowing that this was exactly what Hugh wanted as she stalked back to her car didn't stop her. He was winning because Sam let him, not her, and when she drove off with tears in her eyes, she saw Sam edging back into the house with a sort of pained resignation in her frame.


By the time she got home, she was feeling a little foolish and hollow.

She'd played right into Hugh's hands. After all, he'd intended to drive a wedge between them and it looked like she'd let him. Nevertheless, Sam had disappointed her in a few ways today and she couldn't pretend as though it hadn't happened.

Not mentioning her past relationship with Hugh was the first issue. Sheelagh couldn't help how revolted it made her feel, more so because of the way Hugh had talked about it. Here she was, waiting to sleep with Sam until it could be all about them, and he took the opportunity to announce that he'd had sex with her in the past. That's all it was – sex. Perhaps that should make it more palatable but it didn't. It was like Cavanaugh, wasn't it? Just something physical that was entirely related to something else in her life. The Samantha Nixon that Sheelagh had heard about wasn't averse to using any methods to get what she wanted. And maybe it was irrational to think of something that had happened in the past as comparable to what was between them in the here and now but there was still Cavanaugh to remember. And Phil! That had happened after she'd decided to stop pushing her away and apologise. It might just have been an almost-kiss but, somehow, that stung far more than it ought to considering that Phil had been one of her allies in recent weeks.

When Sam had tried to push her into taking things to the next level the other night Sheelagh had wanted to succumb. She half-wished she had. At least she would've known what it was like to hold a naked Sam in her arms and she might've felt more secure that Hugh didn't have more intimate knowledge than she did. Though, she conceded as she turned off the engine, she'd got pretty close over the last couple of days with that massage and then seeing Sam's tantalising underwear this morning. How that translated to suddenly being out in the cold while Hugh had his feet under the table at Sam's house didn't exactly compute. What on earth had happened tonight?

'Mum?' Connor said uncertainly when she walked through the front door. 'What's going on?'

'I don't want to talk about it,' she answered. 'And I need a drink.'


As she'd expected, she slept really badly. More than once as she twisted in the bed that smelt faintly of Sam, she found herself wondering whether Hugh had coaxed her supposed girlfriend into sharing more than theories but, no, Sheelagh knew in her heart that hadn't happened. Sam loved her too much and her feelings for Hugh were more ambivalent than anything else.

By the time dawn broke, Sheelagh was confused about how her emotions had exploded in such fashion yesterday. Sure, she'd accept that she was jealous and Hugh had played on that but there had to be something else involved. Was it fear? Crossing the line with Sam was something she wanted desperately but she'd have to admit that she was frightened. It was different to everything she'd ever known and being that intimate with another woman wasn't something she was entirely comfortable with, even while she craved it with all her heart and soul. Perhaps this was her religious upbringing jumping into play. Most of the time, she managed to separate the Catholic Church from her faith but it must've had some lingering effect. She'd tried not to think about the ramifications of their relationship because her first job had been to get Sam to acknowledge her feelings and then they were caught up in the whole Abi mess. Now she realised that there were still some deep-set fears that niggled at the back of her mind and they'd played their part yesterday.

But what did that mean for today? It was noticeable that Sam hadn't tried to contact her since last night. In one way, Sheelagh hadn't expected her to. She knew she'd overreacted and, just because she'd suddenly understood why, it didn't mean that Sam would be able to. She probably hadn't given it a thought either. Abi's disappearance was far more important than Sheelagh's irrational fears about her relationship with Sam switching up a gear.

Connor had been confused but affectionate last night and this morning he'd disappeared before she made it downstairs. At some point she'd have to come up with some explanation for him but perhaps the situation with Sam would resolve itself before she had to. It was only then she recalled that Sam was off for the next couple of days and so they wouldn't meet at the nick. After yesterday's debacle, Sheelagh could hardly turn up at the house and she didn't want to call and have to explain herself over the phone. In the meantime, Hugh could be filling Sam's head with all sorts of poison. Surely it would only take time for it to pay off in one respect or another. All of a sudden, the investigation into Abi's disappearance had become the Hugh Wallis show and Sheelagh didn't like it one bit.

When she got into work her first port of call was CID. She found it fairly deserted but Phil was at her desk and looked up with interest as she entered.

'What happened last night?' he asked.

She bit down on her lip. 'Listen, when you and Sam nearly kissed, who started it?'

Frowning, he answered, 'It was all down to me. She'd just admitted she loved you, for God's sake. I was bleeding to death, I wanted a bit of affection and I tried to kiss her. Come on, Sheelagh, what's going on here? You know she's crazy about you.'

'I let him get to me,' she admitted. 'I didn't realise how close they'd been in the past and it came a bit out of the blue when he filled me in. I knew exactly what he was doing and I still let him do it.'

'Easier said than done to ignore it sometimes,' Phil said with more sympathy than she thought he possessed. 'Look, Sam's all over the place at the minute. Don't blame her, blame him.'

'Oh, I do,' she replied. 'He's so wrapped up in this abduction theory because it gives him a chance to shine. Everyone here thinks that Abi's run away and I think she's with someone. I feel in my gut that I'm right, Phil. I learned that from her.'

He sighed and scratched his head. 'Okay, what do you want me to do?'

'Can I have all of Abi's postings from the website and any fresh information all that turned up?' she questioned. 'I want to have a proper read through it in light of what we already know. I'm not giving up, just because she's decided that he knows best.'

'Course, I can do that,' he said. 'I'll get them to you by the end of the day. Hey,' he added, 'you know it's Abi's birthday today?'

'Yeah,' she murmured as she walked away. 'I do.'


That day was torture and the two that followed were much the same.

The longer this went on, the more it felt like the Cavanaugh estrangement all over again. The trouble was, things were so different now that it made Sheelagh's chest ache. How could they go from sleeping wrapped up in each other to this distance that seemed like a living nightmare? As hard as she tried, Sheelagh always ended up angrier at herself than Sam. She'd been so busy worrying about how Sam was reacting to their relationship that she hadn't looked a little deeper inside herself. Maybe if she had she wouldn't have let Hugh get to her like he had. She still didn't like the fact Sam had equivocated about the truth, nor that she was more inclined to put her faith in Hugh than her, but she would've gladly overlooked all that given the opportunity. The more this dragged on without them seeing each other, the more had the chance of ingratiating himself. Perhaps that was his intention.

On the fourth day, she'd just about had enough. She felt like a walking zombie, going through the motions and spending all her time wondering how Sam was. That there'd been no progress on the investigation from the abduction angle wasn't satisfying because Sheelagh had no joy of her own following up on the postings from the website. What they'd said before about being spoon fed was proving more accurate by the day: there was nothing extraneous to be gathered from analysis of the messages and the phone number was still a mystery. Maybe this pointed to an abductor but Sheelagh still didn't buy that: she was holding onto her accomplice theory and not only because it wouldn't prove Hugh right. If admitting she was wrong would bring Abi home, she'd happily do it in a heartbeat. She wasn't sure Hugh would have the same attitude.

That day brought a nasty surprise to Sun Hill – Jack Meadows had suffered a heart attack whilst away at a funeral and had been transferred back to London late last night. Most of the relief were in shock and, of course, Sheelagh found herself wondering how Sam had reacted to the news. She knew how much she respected the DCI and found him to be a generally good boss in comparison to Manson. Under normal circumstances, Sheelagh's first action would be to gently coax Sam into talking about her feelings but this wasn't a normal situation and she couldn't turn up out of the blue to ask how she was handling the DCI's heart attack. The distance between them felt painfully acute.

Before going out on patrol, she stopped by the bathroom. She was surprised to find Debbie McAllister hastily trying to scrub her face clear of tears and took pity on her, handing her some paper towels as she had with Sam so many times now. It was almost therapeutic to help someone feel better, even if it was DS McAllister.

'I'm sorry,' Debbie muttered, wiping her eyes.

'Don't worry about it,' Sheelagh answered. 'From what I hear, he'll be okay.'

Debbie looked at her sharply then blinked away more tears. 'I know, I know. It's just... I wanted to see him and Manson said no.'

Hesitantly, Sheelagh rubbed her back. 'Of course he did. He's a petty dictator, remember? This is what he wants. Who'd want to see him if he was in hospital, hmm?'

'Apart from to switch off the life-support,' Debbie said. After a moment, she gathered herself together and stepped away. 'Thanks, Sheelagh. It's a revolving door around here, isn't it? Sam's back in any minute and you'll be looking after her. I'll see you later.'

She barely managed a goodbye, so surprised was she by the casual announcement that Sam would be at work today. This was it: the moment where they'd come face-to-face again and she wasn't at all sure how to deal with it. She had a certain amount of pride left and, besides, she was suddenly terrified of what their first encounter might throw up in the way of shrapnel. She didn't particularly want to have a row in the middle of the nick, which begged the question of where on earth they were supposed to have this talk they so badly needed.

At least her strange posting to the front desk made sense after Debbie's little revelation. Although Sheelagh hadn't exchanged dialogue with Gina on exactly what had happened between her and Sam, you didn't make inspector without picking up a few tricks, and Gina was completely aware that some sort of fracture had occurred. So, naturally, knowing that Sam was back in today, she'd posted Sheelagh to the front desk in order to smooth out the path to reconciliation. If it wasn't so terrifying a prospect, it might be sweet.

Once in the front office, she was on high alert. The longing to see Sam again was matched only by her fear at what might pass between them when she did. It happened sooner than she'd anticipated; a figure all in black with her hair pulled back from her face trying to sneak in through the doors without a fuss. Sheelagh, her elbows on the desk, was immediately captivated.

In Sam's eyes, she saw all the pain and exhaustion of the last couple of days. If the desk hadn't been between them, perhaps she would've forgotten all her reservations and the decorum of the station itself to envelope her in a hug and have done with it. That impulse was checked, though, and the closest she got was shooting Sam a significant look. A few days that would've been completely comprehended but Sam was wary now and Sheelagh wondered what rubbish Hugh had been filling her head with. That nothing had happened between them was guaranteed as far as Sheelagh was concerned but who knew how inferior he'd made her feel in a couple of days? Sam Nixon was far more fragile and vulnerable than anyone else would countenance and, right now, Sheelagh hated herself for leaving her in the clutches of an egomaniac who wanted nothing more than to prolong this and split them up in the process.

'Sam...' she said quietly.

There was a moment where Sam's feet turned her towards the desk then the doors opened behind her and some irate members of the public entered. While they made a beeline for the desk, Sam blinked and disappeared up the front staircase. Sheelagh watched her climb every single step before she managed to turn her gaze back to the person demanding her immediate and undivided attention. He got the first but not the second.

The morning wore on and Sheelagh began to feel a little detached from her body. Her mind was upstairs, wondering how Sam was doing and what it would take to break this deadlock between them. To say this was a woman she'd held as she wept a week ago, Sheelagh had precious little idea how to approach her now.

Eventually, she was disturbed by the door opening and Phil's head bobbing through. 'Sheelagh, I need to borrow you.'

She glanced to Marilyn to check she could cope on her own and received a curious shrug in return. While she expected Phil to fill her in the moment they were alone, he just motioned her along the corridor and they ended up in the video room without a word being exchanged.

'What's going on?' she asked.

'You need to watch this,' he explained, gesturing to the screen and crossing his arms. 'You know her. I need your opinion.'

Perplexed, she sat down in front of the monitor and clicked play on the video file. She immediately had to stifle a gasp at the sight of Abi – alive and well – staring back at her, but the expression on Abi's face wasn't one she recognised. After a few moments of staring at the camera, she began to speak.

'I think her job's always been more important to her than me and everything else,' Abi said. 'She kept me away from my dad all these years, just to make things easier for her. I bet she wouldn't notice if I wasn't there. I warned her once that she'd come home one day and I wouldn't be around but I bet she wouldn't care. She's too busy hiding. I'm sick of it. So I won't take it anymore. I've had enough.'

With one half-smile, the video ended and Sheelagh stared at the blank screen. She didn't quite know what to think but, when she looked back to Phil, she found him waiting for her opinion.

'Okay,' she said slowly, 'it doesn't feel right.'

He exhaled. 'How do you mean?'

'Well, Abi's very...controlled here,' she explained. 'She's not that girl. I mean, you've seen her in action around here, haven't you? She's impetuous, honest about her emotions. She'll scream and shout and tell you exactly what's going on in that head of hers. I've been stuck in the middle of their rows and, I'll tell you, it wasn't as calm and collected as that message. Abi's passionate and she wants Sam to know exactly what she's upset about. But she doesn't say it explicitly in either the suicide email or this – why is that?'

'You tell me,' Phil said steadily.

'If Abi had stayed away completely of her own accord,' Sheelagh went on, 'then she'd be explicit about why she left. She'd want to make Sam hurt and the best way to do that is by telling her why she failed. Now, she mentions Glenn but she doesn't mention me. I know that upset Abi more recently than any of the Glenn stuff.'

'How? How do you know?' Phil pressed. When she hesitated, he added, 'Come on, Sheelagh. I'm looking for any way I can take the abduction and accomplice theories seriously. I'm trying to help.'

'Christmas cards,' she said eventually. 'Abi kept the Christmas card I sent her last year with the one that Glenn sent. Side by side, they were the evidence that the family Abi wanted was nothing to do with him so why did she mention him and not me? It doesn't make sense.'

Nodding, he said, 'Keep going.'

'Well, she doesn't give any sort of ultimatum, does she?' she reasoned. 'What exactly is she hoping to achieve? And why now? Do we know when the video was shot?'

'Nope,' he replied. 'I'm working on it now but what do you reckon?'

'She looks different,' Sheelagh said, biting on her lip. 'I'd say it's very recent and whoever she's with is responsible for the alteration in her attitude. I've no idea who that might be though. A boyfriend, maybe? Someone who promised her security when she feels she hasn't got any with Sam; took advantage. It could even just be a female friend playing games, someone like Sian Hicks filling her head with all sorts. I've no idea who though.'

'Bit too sophisticated for someone her own age,' Phil commented.

'Exactly,' she said. 'The answer might be in her college friends or someone else she's been in contact with from the webcam business or the suicide website. We know that she – or whoever – gave that mystery phone number to Tess Garvey. She was calling that phone and, to be perfectly honest, I think she posted those messages on the suicide site and communicated with Tess at least a bit.'

'Why?' Phil queried.

'I think they spoke that day,' Sheelagh answered. 'The day when Abi made that cash withdrawal a few doors down from the shop. You don't tell someone the date you're gonna commit suicide by text message, do you? Not when you're as serious as Tess obviously was. No, she spoke to Abi, either in person or on the phone that day. Or,' she continued, thinking aloud, 'she spoke to someone she thought was Abi. That would fit the idea of this being a female friend, someone older who she trusts. I'm speculating,' she admitted. 'I can't give you anything concrete.'

She realised then that she'd been talking to keep her mind away from the only question she hadn't wanted to ask aloud. Phil, peculiarly sensitive since Weaver had tried to kill him, read it in her face and sighed.

'Listen,' he said, 'she's missing you, yeah? She ain't exactly said it but she's a walking zombie up there. She came to life a bit when this popped into her inbox but she needs you. Whatever's gone on, can't you just –'

'I want to,' she interrupted. 'I just don't know how she'd take it. I don't know what he's been saying to her. What's her view on the video?'

'Came out with the same things you did, except she didn't mention your name once,' he returned with a wry smile. 'That made the explanation a bit trickier than it had to be.'

'I bet,' Sheelagh muttered, standing. 'Look, I'd better get back to the front desk. Could you let me know if there are any developments?'

He opened the door for her. 'Course.'

'And Phil?' she added, pausing on the threshold. 'Look after her for me.'

Back on the front desk, she was practically useless. Her mind kept drifting off to what fresh hell Sam was going through right now and wondering whether she could just bite the bullet and go up there and talk to her. It should be so easy but it felt impossible. She vividly recalled when Sam had turned her away in the midst of all the Glenn stuff. They were so much closer now but that might provoke the entirely opposite reaction to the one it should. Instinctively, she knew exactly how much she'd hurt Sam by walking away the other night and it didn't matter that she had her reasons or that she'd been as churned up herself by Hugh's machinations.

Speak of the devil. She winced as Hugh walked through the front doors and grimaced as he approached the desk, relieved that she didn't have to deal with him.

'I'm here to see DS Nixon,' he said to Marilyn.

'Is she expecting you?' Marilyn queried.

'Yes, she called me,' Hugh answered and Sheelagh's stomach twisted. 'Can I go straight up?'

Marilyn mumbled her acquiescence and let him through. Sheelagh kept her focus on her paperwork until he'd passed all the way up the stairs and she could breathe properly again. It stung that Sam had called Hugh over from God knows where while she was downstairs in the same building aching to help. Then again, maybe she deserved to feel this way: she'd let her down, after all. It was so difficult for Sam to trust anyone and she'd stamped all over the faith she'd shown in her.

All afternoon she waited with bated breath for some sign of either Sam or Hugh but nothing happened. Neither did she get any information about Abi's video or the investigation more generally. She was starting to feel dangerously out of the loop, as though Sam's life was just going to continue without her and that week they'd spent with nothing between them was just an aberration or a dream. If she'd been asked, she would've bet money on Sam being the one to panic and drive a wedge between them but, no, Sheelagh had managed to do it all by herself.

When Phil finally appeared back in the front office, he looked like he'd been bulldozed. It wasn't often that an officer like Phil seemed this shell-shocked and Sheelagh rose to meet him.

'What is it?' she asked. 'Has something happened?'

'She's just broken down in my arms,' he muttered. 'He's wound her up and she's snapped. I reckon he thought it'd be him she'd turn to but I was the poor substitute for you, not him.'

'I don't understand,' Sheelagh said. 'Have there been any developments?'

'Between the two of you – I mean you and her – you've convinced me that this ain't on the level,' he explained. 'If you listen to the video carefully, there's a voice in the background telling her what to say – a man. The IP address was an internet cafe but there was a paper in the background that showed today's date. Abi was alive this morning. I've got permission from the DI to treat it as abduction.'

Sheelagh found herself exhaling in relief. 'That's great news. But this is progress – why's she upset?'

'Because she's dealing with it without you, that's why,' he replied. 'Come on, you've kept her going till now. She needs you and she don't want him as compensation. Or me,' he added, 'if that's what you're thinking. Yeah, she's made mistakes in the past, Sheelagh, but haven't you? Sort it out, will you?'

Maybe he realised he'd won because he disappeared without another word. Her shift only had half an hour left to run and she sneaked upstairs after twenty minutes. She was disappointed, though, to find Sam's chair empty and her bag gone.

'You've just missed her,' Debbie said from across the room.

Sheelagh's shoulders sank but she stepped over to her desk. 'How's the DCI?'

'I wasn't allowed to go see him, remember,' replied Debbie.

'Yeah, so how's the DCI?' she repeated knowingly.

With a chuckle, Debbie said, 'He should be okay. Hopefully it was more a wake-up call than anything else. We can all do with them from time to time.'

'Definitely,' Sheelagh murmured then mustered a smile. 'I've gotta go. There's something I need to do.'

It only took her five minutes to get changed and she was out of the station before her shift officially ended. If anyone wanted to take it up with her they could wait until tomorrow. Right now, she felt a little bit how Sam must have that night after Cavanaugh – determined to make amends and fix this mess before it got any worse. She was convinced that if she could only apologise and explain why she'd been an idiot, she could look after Sam again the way she wanted to – the way she needed to.

That thought sustained her until she made it onto Sam's road and recognised the silver car parked up outside the house as Hugh's. Maybe it was jealousy again; maybe it was just fear that Sam would turn her away in favour of listening to him, whatever Phil had said earlier. Either way, she found she couldn't risk the potential rejection so she sped up and screeched around the corner, nearly taking out a lamppost in the process.

Getting home, she sat outside in the car for a long time. Then she somehow managed to gather herself together and walked up the path. She was startled to find Connor waiting for her with his arms crossed.

'What's going on?' he asked. 'You've been sat out there for ages.'

She opened her mouth to brush away the question but that didn't quite work. Instead, she burst into tears and found herself being led to the bottom of the stairs by her son. He sat her down and wrapped his arms around her. It struck her just before she completely succumbed to the tears that this should really be the other way round.