Ellie
Hardy leaves on Sunday and the next few days seem unusually flat to Ellie even though she's relieved to be back on familiar ground. They'd been spending too much time together, that's all, it's no wonder she's feeling such odd things in regards to him.
Although it doesn't explain why the days seem dull and flat now he's back in Stonebridge, and she doesn't know when she's going to be there next. The kids are off school next week, she thinks glumly on Wednesday afternoon, maybe they should all go to Stonebridge and spend a few days. She knows Daisy would love to spend more time with her dad.
She scowls. Maybe he should spend the week in Broadchurch instead.
She invites him that evening during their daily phone call.
He hesitates.
"What? You don't want to spend more time with your daughter?" she demands.
"Of course I do," he says, then pauses and she can see his worried scowl in her mind's eye. "You left," he says abruptly. "You obviously don't want to spend so much time in my company. Spending a week in Broadchurch, in your house, isn't going to help anything."
She bites her lip, then says, "I'm sure I can tolerate you. For Daisy's sake."
"Miller-"
"For God's sake, just say yes and book the days off. Daisy will be thrilled."
He's silent so long she's starting to think he's going to turn her down flat. Instead he sighs and says, "I'll see what I can do."
He shows up on Friday night with an overnight bag and a scowl but his smile when he sees Daisy lights up his entire face. He hugs her, then Fred and claps Tom on the shoulder before turning to Ellie.
"Wonderful," she says with a grin, "I hope you brought some jeans in that bag."
His eyes widen. "Why?"
"We have lots planned and you can't go about in suits the whole time."
His eyes widen even more and Ellie thinks that if Daisy hadn't been blocking the way, he would have turned tail and headed back to Stonebridge.
"What, exactly, is planned?" he asks suspiciously.
"Beth is having a barbecue tomorrow for Lizzie's first birthday, and we'll be hosting everyone the following Saturday at a 'end school break, almost summer' bash. Lucy and Ollie have invited us for supper on Sunday, and then Tom's playing in a football tournament on Monday."
"Tabitha's having a party on Tuesday," Daisy pipes up, "and then the drama group is getting together on Wednesday for rehearsals and I'd like you to come and watch."
"You and I have been invited to Maggie and Jocelyn's on Thursday, and Mark's invited us out to Traders on Friday."
"When is this a holiday?" he asks plaintively.
"I've kept Sunday next free," she says with a wide, cheerful grin.
"Just in time for me to leave for Stonebridge."
"Stop being grumpy, Hardy, the days are going to just fly." There's a slightly evil glint in her eyes. "It'll be fun!"
Hardy
He does his best. He knows how to be a copper, how to interrogate a suspect, how to put the pieces of a puzzle together and find the guilty party. He knows how to observe and detect and deduct and while no one will ever consider him a Sherlock Holmes, he's at least competent enough to still be working after all these years and all his fuck ups.
But idle chit chat has always escaped him. He'd always let Tess do the talking at parties while he retired to a secluded corner and watched her. She'd loved the social round and he'd loved watching her and their circle of friends had soon learned they could include him or ignore him and he was equally comfortable with both.
Everyone at Beth's is initially as awkward as he is, uncertain how to treat him when he isn't there as a police officer. He blesses the fact Daisy inherited her mother's personality more than his own because he can see she's enjoying herself as she smiles and chats with everyone.
He watches Miller, too, because she is, of course, in her element, surrounded by people. She looks genuinely happy, pretty and radiant, and he nods to himself, a soft look in his eyes, because while it's not quite two years since Joe confessed to killing Danny, she seems almost as open and happy as she'd been when he first met her. He knows her relief at no longer having to look out for him is an added bonus.
Supper with Lucy and Ollie is a raucous affair and there are moments when he almost thinks Lucy's flirting with him but they're fleeting although even he notices Miller glaring at her sister although he has no idea why. He overhears Lucy laughing and saying, "Like that, is it?" as he returns to the dining room while he and Ollie are clearing up, but neither woman will meet his questioning eyes. He mentally shrugs it off as he returns to the kitchen and Ollie's misguided but determined efforts to get a scoop on the South Coast Killer case.
Daisy takes him into town on Monday morning where she picks out some jeans and t-shirts for him, because she doesn't want him going to the football tournament in a suit. He changes his clothes and they go to the fields to meet Miller and Fred and he helps cheer Tom's team on to a third place finish. They go out for chips with the team and their parents afterwards to commiserate.
The party at Tabitha's is for the kids in the drama production and their parents, to mix and mingle and get to know each other, and Hardy's eyebrow rises as he watches Daisy chatting with a boy her age in the corner of Tabitha's back yard. As they walk home that night, he asks if Daisy wants to tell him anything, but she blushes furiously and refuses to answer. He grins at the fact that she's taken after him a little bit, too.
The rehearsal the next day is loud and chaotic yet somehow productive, and Tabitha pulls him aside to tell him Daisy's been an absolute sport about working as a stage hand, and she hopes he'll make the time to come see the production when it's put on in July. He looks at Daisy's glowing face and promises to be there, and hopes the South Coast Killer or his prankster doesn't decide to do anything to derail his plans.
Supper at Jocelyn and Maggie's is blessedly low-key and adults only-except for Ollie, but it's easier to tolerate him when Maggie's around to keep the little shit in line. Both Maggie and Jocelyn look healthy and happy even though Jocelyn's eyesight is getting worse, and her ill-conceived idea to work with Sharon Bishop has, as Hardy could have predicted, gone catastrophically wrong. He refrains from saying anything but apparently his expression is more eloquent than words if Miller's mild scolding on the way home is anything to go by.
They have a couple of drinks at Traders the next night with Mark and Nige and Becca and whoever else wanders into the pub, some of whom are coppers Hardy worked with when he was DI. He's coerced into a game of darts-darts, for God's sake-but Miller's laughing and enjoying herself and she's aggressively trying to win, even if she has to cheat, and he finds himself grinning at her glowing face as she thoroughly albeit dishonestly trounces him.
It's their turn to host on Saturday, and he's kept busy prepping food, chasing after Fred when he escapes from the back yard, and making sure Daisy's cooking is good enough to, well, eat. The house is full and noisy and Mark gives him a grin and says, "This is starting to be a habit for you."
Hardy gives him a sour look. "Yet somehow it never gets easier."
Mark munches on some sort of vegetable Miller bought and says, "The things we do for women, yah?"
Hardy gives him a steady, wide-eyed look, then smirks. "If they only knew," he growls and Mark laughs.
Far too early on Sunday morning Hardy opens his eyes and looks straight into Fred's round face beaming at him from beneath unruly curly hair.
"Oi, son," Hardy groans, "you need to learn how to tell time."
He gives the boy room as Fred clambers on to the sofa bed and Hardy, with Fred's warm, still-babyish weight snuggled against his chest, drifts contentedly back into sleep.
Ellie
Ellie stands with the kids and watches Hardy drive away and knows inviting him to spend the week in Broadchurch has only made things worse. She'd hoped seeing him in her natural environment, in the social round of village life, would knock her back to her senses. Instead, she'd watched him awkwardly navigating each social gathering with wide eyes and a nervous face, desperately trying to behave appropriately, and she'd had to more than once fight the urge to throw her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right. He'd relaxed as the week wore on, and by the time they hosted their own barbecue, he was even smiling a little at their guests.
She'd blown her cover with Luce, though, when Ellie scolded her for flirting so outrageously with Hardy, even if it all obviously flew right over his mussed up head. Luce had grinned and said, "Like that, is it?" then laughed when Hardy walked in on those words and raised a questioning eyebrow. Luce at least let her loyalty to her sister win out and simply smiled winningly at him without telling him anything.
But the final blow to Ellie's resolve came just yesterday during their barbecue, when Fred slipped out of the back garden onto the green, and Hardy had gone loping after him. There'd been something about Hardy's long, jean-clad legs devouring the ground seemingly without effort that had stopped her in her tracks and kept her riveted...at least until Luce had chuckled beside her and Beth had snorted a little, and she'd blushed furiously and hurried into the house before Hardy and Fred returned.
She has no intention of doing anything about any of it, but absolutely no one over the next week is surprised when she tells them she's decided to take a break from dating.
Hardy
Hardy goes back to Stonebridge and settles into a routine. On Friday nights he gets in the car and drives to Broadchurch and returns to Stonebridge on Sunday. During the week, he goes to work, he goes to the pub on Wednesdays to meet Missy, he calls Daisy and Miller every night, and he walks the river banks wondering when and where the South Coast Killer is going to strike again.
On the third Sunday after Miller stopped coming to Stonebridge, Hardy returns from Broadchurch, walks into his flat and pauses.
There's something different, something...odd. His skin crawls even as he feels fierce satisfaction when he realizes a small picture Daisy had given him of the two of them with Miller and the boys is missing from the side table located between the two bedrooms.
He calls Alistair Murray the next day from a new cell phone, and Murray's waiting outside his flat when he arrives home that evening.
Ellie
Ellie disconnects from her daily phone call with Hardy, frowns, and wonders what's bothering her. It isn't so much what he said as what he didn't say-which is at least ninety per cent of any conversation with him-and the fact he called earlier than usual.
Daisy walks into the living room and gives her a questioning look.
"I think your dad's up to something," Ellie says.
Daisy shrugs. "When isn't he?"
Ellie grins, then says, "I think I'll drop in on him tomorrow. Spend a couple days."
"Sure you don't want to leave tonight?" Daisy says with a sly smile. "It's still early. If you leave now, you'd get there before nine."
Ellie wrinkles her nose but she knows he's up to something, something he doesn't want to tell her, and knowing Hardy, she has no time to lose.
Hardy's eyes widen when he takes in her falsely smiling face and overnight bag and she feels a childish satisfaction that she's able to surprise him. With a resigned shake of his head he steps aside.
She walks in with a triumphant grin then stops dead in her tracks as she hears movement in his bedroom. She gives him a horrified look.
"Somebody's here?" she demands, her heart suddenly in her throat.
He gives her a confused scowl. "Yah," he says in a tone of voice that implies he has people visit his flat every other day.
Her stomach churns and she gapes while his confused frown deepens. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, the door to his bedroom bursts open.
"Well, laddie, all done," a hearty voice booms, and Ellie spins to stare with relief at Alistair Murray, carrying something that looks like a hand-held radar gun. He's big, burly and grizzled, his stubbly beard more gray than brown, but his eyes are a bright, sharp blue and they rake over her as he pauses in mid-step. "You must be Miller. You look exactly as Hardy described you."
"Really?" she asks and shoots Hardy a suspicious look.
He rolls his eyes. "Anything?" he asks Murray.
"Clean as a whistle," Murray says with a grin and strolls to the coffee table and picks up a leather portfolio that he opens to reveal a pad of paper and a pen. "But always happy to take a road trip to soothe my paranoid partner's nerves. Did it often enough when Daisy was a bairn, aye?"
"Oh, aye," Hardy replies sarcastically.
"Let me give you my bill," Murray says, writing busily. "Five rooms, three closets, four hours because you're a picky arse-" Hardy rolls his eyes and Ellie grins "-at three hundred an hour, with a discount for old time's sake-" he finishes with a flourish and hands the portfolio to Hardy. "Read it and weep-and pay in cash."
Ellie leans over Hardy's shoulder and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Beside the random numbers Murray scrawled out are the words 'the walls have eyes and ears'. She gasps and both Hardy and Murray shoot her warning looks.
"For that amount, you're buying, mate," she quickly says and Murray's laugh booms through the flat.
They climb into Murray's van, and he drives to the centre of town where they leave everything locked in the vehicle, including their cell phones, and walk to a pub they've never seen before.
"On the off-chance somebody managed to plant a bug on my van while I was in your flat," Murray says as they sit at a table with their drinks.
"What, exactly, are we talking about?" Hardy asks with a scowl.
"There are cameras in every room, along with microphones. The cameras are within the walls or the ceiling, while the microphones are mainly in picture frames."
Ellie scowls, shooting a worried look at Hardy, who's also scowling but with anger rather than fear.
"But how are they being put into the walls?" he demands. "I realize I'm not home on the weekends, but you'd think I'd notice fresh paint! I'm a detective, for God's sake!"
Ellie frowns, then says, "Unless they're not being put in from your side of the wall."
Hardy freezes and stares at her, amber eyes wide and unblinking. "My neighbour?" he demands. "It's my neighbour?"
Murray shakes his head. "You don't share walls with your neighbour." He looks thoughtfully up at the ceiling of the pub. "There's space within ceilings for wires and pipes and insulation. Same with walls. Did you know there's a small utility room beside your kitchen? It likely has an access panel into the ceiling."
"Utility..." comprehension dawns on Hardy and Ellie's faces.
"And the people who know that room exists and has access to it..." Murray adds with an expressive shrug.
"The maintenance crew!" Hardy yelps.
Murray nods complacently. "Brilliant, really," he says. "Who notices the maintenance crew? If you had to describe the last person who was in your flat to fix the sink, would you be able to do it? Sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight, and you barely have to disguise yourself, do you? Would you recognize any one of them if they're out of uniform and sitting in the pub beside you?"
Hardy's mouth hangs open as he shares an incredulous look with Ellie then turns back to his former partner.
"Oh, Murray," he breathes, "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Not sure, laddie, but you're going to have to learn. I'm retiring next month, and I expect you at the bash. Bring money because you'll be making good on all those 'owe you one' favours I've done for you over the years."
"Retiring? You? What are you going to do with your time?"
"I've already been asked if I'd be interested in working on cold cases. A consultant, working throughout the country. Maybe I'll finally find that sleepy little village to call me own." He glances between Hardy and Ellie and back again. "Should be interesting. Maybe bring some closure to families who are still waiting for answers."
"Just you?" Ellie asks.
"For now. Of course, it's been a long time since I interviewed suspects but it's just like riding a bicycle, yah? You never forget?" He shrugs and takes a gulp of beer. "I'll start with just the forensics, though, since that's usually where any new evidence will be found. What about you, Hardy? When do you plan on hanging up the badge?"
He shrugs. "Never. What would I be without it?"
Murray grins. "Oh, aye, that's always the question, isn't it?" He glances at Ellie and says, "Well, go get the next round, Hardy, while Miller and I spend some time getting to know each other."
Hardy rolls his eyes but gets readily to his feet. "Enjoy the flirting while you can," he growls, "because we have a lot of work to do tonight."
"Including finding a hotel," Ellie calls as he begins to push his way through the crowd.
"Now, Miller, we've barely met," Murray booms and she smacks his arm even as she laughs, then leans forward with bright, interested eyes. She finds him utterly charming, with a wide grin and a laugh that shakes his entire body and fills the room. Ellie's fascinated, trying to imagine Hardy as this man's partner without one or the other of them being in a straitjacket within a month or up on charges. Murray watches with an obviously fond smile as Hardy disappears into the crowd.
"One thing about Hardy," Murray says, "he's a good man to have on your side, and not just because he's skinny enough to wind his way through a crush like that."
Ellie smiles. "Even when he's exhausting?"
"Especially when he's exhausting. He keeps you going when you want to stop. That's valuable in a partner, and a copper, and why, in spite of having the social skills of a bear woken early from hibernation, he's a good Detective Inspector. He demands the best."
Ellie tilts her head as she considers the older man in front of her. "You seem very fond of him."
"We were partners for three years in Glasgow."
"Are you still in Glasgow?"
"Na, we both got out of there as fast as we could at the end of it. I knew even then he wouldn't be walking the cobbles forever. He transferred to Sandbrook, met Tess and fell fast and hard, although I never thought her heart was really in it. Oh, she loved him, but never enough."
Ellie files that tidbit away for further thought, then says, "So, what happened at the end of it that had both of you leaving so quickly?"
"He saved my life, then I saved his," Murray says and takes another gulp of beer.
Ellie waits, an eagerly expectant look on her face and Murray considers her thoughtfully then laughs.
"You're good," he says, "I'll give you that." He leans forward and lowers his voice, his eyes intent on hers. "We were called out to a domestic disturbance. The guy was hopped up on the drug of the day, probably more than one. I was ushering the woman out of the flat when the husband moved to stab me in the back. We hadn't even realized he had a knife! Hardy-well, he may not be much of a lover and he's even less of a fighter, but he had that crazy bastard down on the ground in less than ten seconds." Murray shakes his head. "So proud he was, too, as he got the handcuffs on, at least until he realized the husband had managed to do some damage with the knife anyway. Got him right here," he says and indicates a spot just above his right hip and Ellie remembers the scar she'd noticed on Hardy's torso. "Pretty deep, too, but at least the adrenaline kept Hardy going until the bloke was in handcuffs. 'Course, while the wife begins having hysterics over the husband being manhandled, Hardy chooses that moment to collapse in a puddle of blood, the whiny bastard."
Ellie's jaw drops. "Are you serious?"
Murray nods with a rueful grimace. "So I had Hardy bleeding on the floor, the husband making a break for it while handcuffed, the wife helping the husband to escape, and Hardy shouting at me to 'go after them, you daft bastard'," he shakes his head. "Oi, what a night."
"So what did you do?" she asks, wide-eyed.
"I put pressure on his wound, called for back-up, told him the arsehole was handcuffed and wouldn't get far, and then told him to shut the fuck up, I was saving his life."
"Were you?"
"Oh, aye, he bled like a son-of-a-bitch. Who knew such a skinny wanker had so much blood in him?" He shakes his head. "Our backup found the couple two blocks away, trying to saw off the handcuffs." He sighs. "After that, we both decided Glasgow wasn't where we wanted to be as coppers. He headed to Sandbrook once he was all healed up, and I headed to London and switched to computer forensics. A lot less likely to run into a knife there."
Ellie gives him a sober look. "Did he really save your life?" she asks.
Murray's smile fades away. "He really did save my life," he says somberly. "I never saw the knife coming, and if Hardy hadn't been there, well..." he spreads his hands and shrugs expressively. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for the laddie."
"And I take advantage of it every chance I get," Hardy growls from behind her then sets the drinks on the table. "Shared the story of my stupidity and your heroism, Murray?"
"Stupidity?" Ellie asks as Murray grins, shrugs and takes his beer.
"Oh, aye," Hardy says, deadpan, "I stepped the wrong way. I was trying to get out of the arsehole's way." She gives him a speaking look and he shrugs. "Murray had been particularly blustery that day. He was annoying me."
Murray grins and lifts up his mug. "To your best mistake of my life," he says.
Hardy slowly grins and Ellie blinks at the brightness in his face as he clinks his mug against Murray's.
Hardy
They get rooms in a hotel not far from his flat then he calls SOCO and tells them there are cameras and microphones in his flat. Murray sends them the footage from the FLIR so they can pinpoint the locations while he calls Sal and Webster then his CS and tells them his stalker is somebody on his building's maintenance crew. Sal and Webster will be at his building in the morning to begin the interviews.
Once both Murray and Miller leave him alone in his room-with Miller giving him an indecipherable looks over her shoulder as she leaves-he lets the stress of the last few weeks drain out of him to be replaced with fierce triumph that at last they're making progress on something.
For the first time in weeks, he sleeps dreamlessly.
By the time Hardy and Miller get back to his flat the following afternoon, SOCO has removed all the cameras and microphones Murray had located, and Sal and Webster have interviewed everyone on the maintenance crew...except for one.
"Karla Clarke didn't come in to work today," Sal says. "We sent a couple of uniforms to the address on file, only it doesn't exist."
Hardy's eyes widen and his nostrils flare.
Ellie says, "I'm assuming a background check brought up a different Karla Clarke?"
Webster nods. "Eighty years old, deaf as a post, and definitely not doing maintenance at an apartment building. She also doesn't know anyone else with the same name, female or male."
"Fingerprints?" Hardy snaps. "A picture?"
Wee Sal and Webster share a worried look and shake their heads. "Neither are a requirement for this job," Webster says.
"Best we can hope for is some fingerprints on the cameras and microphones," Sal says hopefully.
Hardy scowls. "Yah," he says, "at least we have the cameras this time. Maybe we'll get lucky."
They don't, and he's not surprised. Whoever 'Karla Clarke' really is, she's clever and she's quick on her feet. He'd almost admire her if she wasn't such a pain in the arse.
Miller returns to Broadchurch and he sits and broods in his office, thinking that both the South Coast Killer and his stalking case have stalled.
Again.
He leans back in his chair with a scowl and remembers Murray's words about hiding in plain sight, and he wonders if that's what the South Coast Killer is doing, too. Is he someone the victims saw often or someone they never noticed when they did see him? Is that why he does it? To force someone to notice him?
He slowly sits up straight in his chair. The killer has never contacted them or the media. He isn't gloating like some of them do, so is it, instead, that he likes being invisible? An ambush predator, no one knows he's there until it's too late. Hardy slides papers out of the way until he finds the list of six men from the shelters who are the most promising possibilities in the case. He thoughtfully taps a finger against the top of his desk and wonders if there's a way to light a fire under both cases with one bold move.
He pulls into Broadchurch Friday evening and heads straight to Jocelyn and Maggie's, where they greet him with wary surprise.
"I need a favour," he says without preamble.
Jocelyn smirks. "What? Another will?"
"No. A news story."
Maggie hears him out and says, "Why me?"
"You're the best out of a bad lot," he says and gives her a small smile. "It's either you, Ollie, or Karen White, and at least I trust you."
Maggie rolls her eyes then says, "I'm flattered. I suppose."
Jocelyn gives him a thoughtful look. "Is your CS all right with this?"
"He's all right with anything that gets the case moving again...except another murder." Hardy's mouth twists. "The killer's been quiet too long. There's a body somewhere out there, waiting to be found, and maybe more than one. The man is a predator, hiding in the weeds, and there are only two ways to lure him out: give him the bait he likes, or threaten his camouflage. I won't put anyone at risk so we need to threaten his camouflage." He gives them a wide-eyed look from dark, pained eyes. "There's another reason why I've come to you, Maggie. Between you and Jocelyn, you can make sure this article won't hurt the case when we do finally make an arrest."
"Karen White has greater reach," Maggie says.
"Partner with her, if you like," Hardy says, "but you write the article. You, at least, will give me a little bit of praise, which is what I need to flush out my prankster while we're also trying to push the South Coast Killer out of hiding."
"What makes you think she's going to do something if she sees an article that actually makes you look good for once?" Jocelyn asks.
"Because her goal is to humiliate me. Everything she's done has been intended to show me in the worst possible light, from telling my coworkers I have sex with underage girls, to telling my daughter I was a cuckold, to releasing that video. If she sees that few people are buying her version of my story, maybe she'll come out of hiding long enough to make a mistake. Maybe they both will."
Maggie stares, horrified. "Hardy, that's..."
"All I've got," he says.
The article is published on Monday and it's as beautifully inflammatory as he'd hoped it would be...to people who know how to read between the lines. He hopes it's also complimentary enough to lure Karla Clarke into doing something.
He's already put discreet surveillance on the six men and the seven shelters and now all he can do is wait and hope the article will cause the South Coast Killer to panic.
He loves it when they panic.
Karla Clarke reacts first.
The pictures are on his coffee table Wednesday night, splayed out in an arc across the surface. He stares at them from the doorway for what seems like hours before he finally steps into the flat and closes the door behind him.
He edges cautiously closer as he pulls out his phone and calls SOCO, then wee Sal and Webster, his blood burning bright with grim determination and almost feral joy.
Because the stakes have changed.
He stares down at the top photo, his teeth bared in a humorless, triumphant grin.
It's a before and after pairing. The 'before' portion shows him with Daisy, walking on a street in Stonebridge; the 'after' photo is the exact same picture only he's been edited out, as if he'd never been there in the first place.
His phone rings just as SOCO arrives.
"What?" he barks.
"You bloody wanker!"
He waves the SOCO techs towards the coffee table even as he scowls and says, "What have I done now?"
"When were you going to tell me about the pictures?"
He stumbles as he steps out into the hallway. "How the bloody hell do you know about those already?"
"Wee Sal and I have an understanding."
He closes his eyes and prays for strength, then says, "Well, then you know I just found them-and I'm going to have some choice words for her when she gets here!" He suddenly grins. "Oh, Miller, this is outstanding!"
"Outstanding?"
"Aye! These pictures are obviously threats. They've raised the stakes and that's just what I was hoping for!"
"What? What you were hoping for? What-?"
"Don't you see, Miller? They'll have to let us in to see the Ashworths and Ricky now!"
Note: The next chapter is going to be delayed since I'm going to be "computer silent" starting on Thursday and going until Monday. :(