'Maybe we should close the curtains,' Sam suggested mildly. 'If anyone comes snooping they'll get a real eyeful.'
'Let them,' Sheelagh murmured into her chest.
'Well, I'd like to think this is for my eyes only,' she returned. Then, feeling her partner shiver in her arms, she tightened her grip. 'Shush, I've got you. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.'
Sheelagh glanced up. 'Promise?'
'Oh, yeah,' she replied, kissing her forehead. 'Who else'd have me?'
'Good point,' said Sheelagh softly as she settled back down.
For maybe another twenty minutes they stayed on the sofa like that. Sam wasn't cold because she had Sheelagh's body pressed up against her but her girlfriend must've been chilly in one way or another. It was beautiful seeing her – feeling her – like this. She was so soft, so loving. If she hadn't known it before, Sam knew now that she'd do absolutely anything for this woman. The love she felt was utterly incomprehensible and if she'd been asked a few years ago whether she'd want out of her job to give another human being peace of mind, the answer would've been a resounding 'no'. But things were different these days.
'Listen,' she said finally, 'I've said this to Abi and I'll say it to you. I can leave Sun Hill; I can leave the police force. I don't care what I do, you're more important to me than that.'
The words shocked Sheelagh into sitting upright and Sam could've kicked herself. Nevertheless, she took the opportunity to stand up and pull the curtains to. When she returned to the sofa she recognised how cold Sheelagh was and settled half-across her. She was reluctant to relocate this conversation and she just wanted to be near her right now.
Sheelagh nuzzled into her throat. 'I'm not letting you do that.'
'I will if you will,' she answered. 'Come on, let's do it. Let's find Abi and get the hell away from the Met. We can do it.'
'Sam, you're a good copper,' Sheelagh said. 'You've said yourself, it's who you are. I think it's who I am as well. It's worth too much to throw it away just because we're scared.'
'Is it?' Sam questioned with complete sincerity. 'I'm not sure.'
Gazing into her eyes, Sheelagh asked, 'You mean it, don't you?'
She cupped her cheek. 'I don't care anymore. I want you and Abi and Connor and... I want normal, sweetheart. I want you to feel safe. More than anything, that's what I want.'
'You know it's not that simple,' Sheelagh said gently. 'It's all right for everybody else, darling. They haven't seen the things we've seen. We know the dangers that are out there, we deal with them every day. Burying our heads in the sand doesn't make them disappear.'
'The job makes us a target,' Sam persisted. 'You're out there on the street with a target on your back and there's nothing I can do about it.'
Sheelagh kissed her. 'Bad things happen with no provocation, we both know that. The thing is, we're good at what we do. I mean, you are, you're amazing and I can't see you sitting on the sidelines, working in an office or something. Sure, I could go back to nursing but I don't want to. I love being a copper and so do you.'
'If it's a choice –' Sam began but Sheelagh pressed a finger to her lips.
'It isn't, though, is it?' she asked. 'I fell in love with Samantha Nixon. I know exactly who she is and I'm not after trying to change her. Well,' Sheelagh went on with a small smile, 'I don't mind tinkering a bit around the edges but the fundamental things... They make you who you are and the job's one of them.'
Sighing, Sam stroked her bare shoulder. 'I would give it up, you know.'
'So would I,' Sheelagh replied. 'Maybe that's why we don't have to.'
'Are you hungry?' Sam questioned after a moment. When Sheelagh shook her head she continued, 'How about a hot bath then? You're freezing, sweetheart.'
'I'd rather stay like this,' murmured Sheelagh.
Sam laughed softly. 'Actually, I was more thinking of relocating the entire enterprise.'
'Now, that, I could do,' Sheelagh answered, kissing her again. 'You're not just a pretty face, are you?'
'Less of that,' she said sternly. Swinging her feet onto the carpet, she added, 'I'll get it running. Why don't you check in with the kids or something if you're bored?'
The expression on Sheelagh's face somehow softened further and Sam knew she hadn't been fooled by the offhand phrasing of that suggestion. Leaving her to make her calls, she retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen and took them up to the bathroom. She remembered all too vividly that massage Sheelagh had given her by candlelight and she took great delight in lighting those same candles along the windowsill as she ran the bath. After pouring the wine and turning the lights off, she eased down into the bubbles and waited for Sheelagh to appear. Her smile when she did was downright gorgeous in the flickering candlelit.
'Very smooth, Sam,' Sheelagh said. 'Very smooth.'
She snorted and held out a hand. 'Between you and Connor, I'm not gonna know any peace, am I?'
Instead of answering, Sheelagh lowered herself into the water and rested back. That was enough to shut Sam up as she wrapped one arm around her neck then reached for the wine glasses on the side. She handed one to Sheelagh then picked up her own and let out a contented sigh.
'I didn't know Kerry that well,' said Sheelagh finally. 'She was around, that's all. I feel guilty about saying that.'
Sam pressed a kiss to her shoulder. 'Just because you work with someone, doesn't mean you have to necessarily be friends.'
'No,' Sheelagh conceded, 'but I feel I should know more about her.'
'That's why you're you,' Sam replied. 'That you care says a lot.'
Reaching up for her hand, Sheelagh muttered, 'I was relieved it wasn't you. June was relieved it wasn't Jim. Phil was... From the look on his face, he was thinking about the people he cared about and feeling grateful it wasn't them out there. We were all there counting off the faces we couldn't stand to lose and, in the end, Kerry wasn't high on my list.'
'You're only human,' said Sam. 'Anyway, if you'd had the chance to save her, you would've given it your best shot.'
Sheelagh sniggered. 'Like I did with Juliet, you mean.'
'Oi,' Sam returned sharply, 'you did everything you could to save Juliet. Gina was out there with you, remember? She said you played a blinder under the circumstances. You won't convince me otherwise so don't bother trying.'
'You'd say that no matter what,' Sheelagh pointed out.
'I'd what?' she retorted. 'See the best in you? Because you never do that for me, do you?'
When there was no response Sam scooped up a handful of bubbles and trailed them along Sheelagh's arm. She felt the ripple of amusement pass through her body then risked moving her hand lower. The reaction was delicious and she stretched to put her glass down in a place of safety.
If the last month had felt surreal, the last seventy-two hours were in a league of their own.
Up in Cumbria, as soon as she'd done what Sheelagh asked and let go, everything had been perfect. It didn't matter that they were both new to this. They'd followed their instincts and completely trusted each other. Really, Sam knew it should've taken a lot for her to do that but it didn't because this was Sheelagh and she wasn't going to hurt her. Maybe, in the end, that was why it had been so beautiful and intimate. One thing for was sure – Sam had known from that first time that they fit together physically as perfectly as they did in every other respect. The morning after, not to mention the impromptu diversion in the hallway downstairs, had just proven it.
However, last night had been different. Yeah, they'd sought each other out for physical comfort before but last night was the first time without the invisible line between them and Sam had been blown away by the force of Sheelagh's need. Only when they'd made it through the bath and collapsed into bed exhausted did she begin to idly wonder whether it would always be this intense. Then again, a year of loving Sheelagh hadn't diminished the sheer delight she experienced when she did something that made her happy – it'd simply changed its form. Besides, what they shared was far more fulfilling than any relationship she'd ever had in every way. She had no reason to suspect it wouldn't last, maybe simply because she desperately wanted it to.
This morning, she was alert yet reluctant to move. Sheelagh was sleeping peacefully a few inches away, their hands entwined from sometime in the middle of the night when they'd stretched out for each other. Sam began stroking her cheek, trying to waken her in the most unobtrusive way possible whilst finding the way she half-squirmed under her touch completely adorable.
Finally, Sheelagh opened her eyes. 'No.'
'No what?' Sam queried.
'I don't want to leave you here and go to work,' answered Sheelagh.
Sam chuckled. 'Well, it's lucky I'm coming with you then.'
'What?' Sheelagh asked softly.
'Manson called yesterday,' she explained. 'He said they were expecting the report in on that dead girl today and did I want to come in for a chat about it. What with everything, it slipped my mind.'
'It slipped your mind,' repeated Sheelagh, bringing her closer for a kiss. 'I do love you.'
Biting her lip, Sam questioned, 'Enough to make breakfast?'
Sheelagh let out a laugh. 'Yes, as it happens. Come on.'
One serving of scrambled eggs on toast later and they were on the road. Once again, Sam realised they were being far too incautious turning up to work together but, really, after yesterday's events she couldn't care less. The death of a colleague actually outside the nick had set them both on edge and she wouldn't leave Sheelagh to walk past the scene alone. So as they left the car she took care to walk just close enough that she could comfort her if necessary. Let the Sun Hill gossips say she was wrong to comfort the woman she loved – she'd fight them tooth and nail.
There were a few bunches of flowers resting outside the front office. Sam shot Sheelagh a look as they approached to ascertain how she was handling the sight and found the tremor of her lip unbearable. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed hard.
Sniffing, Sheelagh muttered, 'We're meant to be being careful.'
'Stuff that,' Sam retorted. 'Do you want a coffee or something?
'You need to get upstairs,' said Sheelagh. 'Badger the DI, get some answers.'
'It's okay to be upset,' Sam told her as they passed the flowers.
Sheelagh just threw her a look, possibly meant to be stern but diluted by the tears in her eyes. Without another word, they went into the front office and found Marilyn staring into space. Sam couldn't help but marvel at the way Sheelagh transformed herself into a motherly fixture, sweeping forward and rubbing Marilyn's arm. Only Sam would know the effort that went into that and she felt uniquely privileged all of a sudden. Catching her eye once last time, Sam smiled then let herself into the station.
The atmosphere in here was strange. Everything was muted; even the telephones seemed to be ringing an octave lower today. There was an air of shock percolating, but perhaps not an air of grief. In some respects, it felt similar to the nick after Matt's death. Kerry wasn't universally loved and the horror that there might be after the death of a more popular colleague like Tony or Ken or – or Sheelagh was lacking. However, the shock was still palpable and it left its mark on everyone.
She'd only been sat down ten minutes staring blindly at her paperwork when Phil's hand rested on her shoulder.
'Hey,' she said quietly.
'How you doing?' he asked. 'You all right?'
Glancing around, she lowered her voice. 'Sheelagh's struggling a bit.'
'I bet she is,' he answered.
'Is there any news on the investigation?' she questioned.
Phil shrugged. 'Well, MIT have taken over and they ain't exactly chatting about it. But the word is that it's definitely the serial sniper.'
'So he's shooting coppers now,' Sam said. 'Great.'
'They're putting extra precautions in place,' Phil said after a moment. 'Look, if it makes you feel better, Kerry weren't in uniform when she was shot and Smithy was out there with her. It looks targeted to me. Now, Rob's blaming the Radfords because Kerry crossed 'em. Maybe that's a better bet. You know what it's like having that lot on our patch.'
Sam frowned at him. 'Is this meant to be comforting?'
Clearing his throat, he said, 'Yeah, I'll shut up. What are you doing here anyway?'
'I asked her to come in,' Manson said from behind them and she swivelled in her chair. For once, he didn't seem impassive and she didn't much like it. He continued, 'I've just been on the phone to Barton Street. The girl they fished out of the Thames, the one you thought could've been your daughter... We were right, she didn't drown.'
'What do you mean?' Sam asked carefully.
'Her name was Lauren Tibbet,' Manson explained. 'She was hit by a car a week ago.'
Phil let out a disbelieving snort. 'You're joking?'
'Sorry, how did she end up in the water?' queried Sam.
'We don't know,' admitted Manson. 'It looks like someone stole her body from the mortuary and dumped her in the river.'
'This is unbelievable,' Phil muttered.
Sam was having extreme difficulty with this. Baffled, she said, 'Sorry, Guv, are you telling me someone walked into a mortuary, walked out with a body and no one knows how or why they did it?'
Manson hesitated. 'Yeah. Obviously, the legal ramifications for the mortuary are huge.'
'Yeah, no kidding,' Phil remarked.
'This was never just a coincidence, was it?' Sam questioned finally. 'Her body was found near where Abi's clothes were recovered. She was put there to look like Abi.'
Neither of them had a response to that. Manson made his excuses and promised to find out as much as he possibly could. It wasn't often that Sam wholeheartedly believed him but she knew he was rattled. He'd wanted this to be a typical disappearance, maybe because it was easier but maybe because he didn't want to deal with the abduction of a colleague's daughter. It had to be Sheelagh's influence that was prompting her to put a positive gloss on the activities of a man she neither trusted nor liked.
Phil patted her on the shoulder then awkwardly sat down. She could feel his eyes on her as she tried fruitlessly to concentrate on her paperwork and, finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Pulling out her phone, she sent a message: Are you around? x
Five minutes later a response came through: Bathroom xx
With a smile, she slipped away from her desk and made her way through the sombre station. Given the nature of the ongoing investigation, no one was inclined to make eye contact and that worked to Sam's advantage. She made it to the bathroom without anyone acknowledging her and found Sheelagh leaning against the sink in full uniform.
'What is it?' she asked, straightening up.
Sam checked the empty stalls. 'Maybe I just wanted to see you.'
'I know you better than that,' answered Sheelagh. 'Come on, talk to me.'
It took her a few minutes to relay the scant information that Manson had provided, though she saw her anxiety mirrored on Sheelagh's face as she ran through the story. Repeating it aloud reiterated how utterly bizarre it was. However, she was struck by something that had apparently occurred to Sheelagh too.
'At least we know we're dealing with a sick thief and not a killer,' Sheelagh commented when she was finished. 'That means Abi's safe.'
Sam rubbed her forehead. 'It's some consolation.'
'It's confirmation that she isn't alone in this,' said Sheelagh. 'Sure, it might point more to the abduction theory but I'm willing to be wrong.'
'You don't think you're wrong about the accomplice theory,' Sam replied. 'I can see it in your eyes.'
'No,' Sheelagh conceded, 'but I'm open to it. I think we need help,' she added, 'professional expertise.'
Raising her chin, Sam caught her meaning. 'No, look, I need to call Barton Street and get a handle on exactly what we're dealing with here. We need to give it a shot ourselves first. Work out what's going on.'
'I agree we should do that,' said Sheelagh, taking her hand. 'I want us to do this together, more than anything. But we've got a chance we haven't really had before, haven't we?'
Sam frowned. 'What do you mean?'
'Manson is taking this seriously,' Sheelagh answered. 'This has convinced him completely. We've got nothing else to show him as far as things stand but someone else might have more luck right now.'
'Especially if it's a middle-aged man,' Sam pointed out.
'For once, I think we need to use that to our advantage,' returned Sheelagh with a shrug. 'Believe me, I don't like it anymore than you do but we know how Manson operates. We want a result so call Hugh and ask for his help. Grovel if you have to. We might not get this opportunity again.'
After searching her face, Sam asked, 'Are you sure? I don't want you uncomfortable in any way, sweetheart.'
'This is more important than that,' Sheelagh insisted. 'Besides, I'd much rather you saw him here than him turning up at the house again. Unless you're telling me I've got something to worry about?'
There was no real response to that. She understood as well as Sheelagh did that their relationship had surpassed any petty jealousies. Des, Patrick, Glenn, Cavanaugh, Hugh: they all faded into insignificance now and there was absolutely no chance of them doubting each other for a second. So Sam merely smiled and wished they were somewhere a little more private.
'I'll call him,' she said finally. 'But he might've got the hump when I didn't call for that chat I promised him. Why is it men have the most fragile egos?'
'Overcompensating, I think. Listen, I should get back to work,' Sheelagh added after a moment. 'I'm working a racially-motivated vandalism case with Ramani. Are you okay?'
'Yeah,' she said firmly, meeting her eye. 'This is something, isn't it? Even handed to us, it's something.'
Sheelagh pressed a kiss to her lips briefly. 'We decide to carry on with our lives and the next thing someone steals a girl's body from a mortuary and throws it into the Thames? Yes, it's something. You don't need me to tell you that. If anything else crops up, let me know. But I'd rather not...'
Smiling, Sam replied, 'There's no need for you to see him.'
'We just don't click, that's all,' Sheelagh said. 'If it's necessary that's fine –'
'I know,' Sam cut in. 'Go on, get back to work before Gina hauls me over the coals. Can be doing without that today.'
Holding her gaze for a few more seconds, Sheelagh squeezed her arm and slid past her a little more closely than was entirely appropriate under the circumstances. Not that Sam minded. Ever since Connor had bandied that word about that time outside the nick she'd taken a more elastic view of what was appropriate and what wasn't. In the current climate, anything could go.
She didn't much fancy calling Hugh under Phil's curious gaze so she went along to the canteen and got herself a coffee and, as an afterthought, a toasted teacake. Sheelagh would approve of that. She spread a liberal helping of raspberry jam on it and settled down to be contrite with Hugh. However, his voice was more amiable than she'd expected considering their last little skirmish over her relationship with Sheelagh.
'Samantha,' he said, 'it's good to hear from you. Are you ready for that chat now?'
'There's been a few developments actually,' she answered. 'It turns out that body was stolen from a mortuary then dumped in the river, deliberately to turn up looking like Abi. Well, that's the truth of it. Whether I can convince everybody else remains to be seen.'
'Is that where I come in?' Hugh queried.
'I could really do with your help,' she said.
She knew him well enough to recognise that appealing to his vanity was the best way of getting him onside swiftly. Whatever his attitude towards her and Sheelagh, he was an old friend and he wouldn't let her struggle with this alone when he could help. Even so, he wasn't beyond making her stew a little and it could be that time was of the essence with this one. This was the kind of conversation that she disliked these days – manipulation and saying what someone wanted to hear. It was all right on a professional level but this sort of dishonesty in her personal life didn't appeal to her anymore. It was a means to the end of finding Abi but she was determined it'd be a fresh start when they did. No more of this unless it was in an interview room or out on the streets.
'Are you at the station?' asked Hugh eventually. 'I can be there in an hour.'
'I'd really appreciate it,' she answered. 'I'll tell the front desk to expect you.'
As she deposited the phone on the table, she conceded that was easier than she'd expected. She took a bite of her teacake and leaned back in her seat. Whatever was going on here needed some thorough thinking over and, really, she needed to talk it through properly with Sheelagh. It was unfortunate that the nick in the state it was today wouldn't allow for that. Thinking about Kerry's death also brought her back to her dormant worries about Sheelagh being out there on the beat.
'Mind if I join you?'
She looked up in surprise at Debbie McAllister hovering over her with a cup. 'Oh, er, sure.'
'Thanks,' Debbie replied, slotting into the opposite chair. 'Something about today, that's all.'
'Fair enough,' she answered. 'Are you working a case?'
Debbie nodded. 'Waiting on a witness statement, should be here any minute. Nothing interesting, just a robbery.'
She noted with interest that the question wasn't turned back on her. That meant that Debbie was fully apprised of the body situation but wasn't asking her about it. She wasn't used to that sort of delicacy from DS McAllister, although she recognised it'd been a tricky time for everyone recently.
'I meant to ask,' she said after watching Debbie's hands clasp around her cup, 'how's Jack doing?'
'Better,' Debbie answered with the ghost of a smile. 'Planning on coming back to work a lot sooner than he should be I reckon.'
'That sounds about right,' Sam said.
'Look, can you do me a favour?' Debbie questioned. When Sam shifted in her seat she hastily continued, 'No, no, I'm pretty certain you won't have a problem with it.'
'Go on then,' she returned.
Sipping her tea, Debbie said, 'The day we found out about Jack's heart attack I was in a bit of a mess. Sheelagh found me, made sure I was all right when nobody else would've bothered. I didn't thank her properly, maybe you could pass that on for me.'
Sam cleared her throat. 'What makes you think –'
'Don't worry,' interrupted Debbie, 'I'm not gonna broadcast it. You've got enough on your plate.'
'Well...thank you,' said Sam. 'I appreciate it. We're trying to keep it quiet.'
'I can understand that,' Debbie said. 'You fell on your feet, you know.'
She chuckled. 'Oh, I know.'
It was bizarre to sit in companionable silence with Debbie McAllister but that's what happened for a couple of minutes until their cups were empty and Sam excused herself to go call Barton Street and dig for more information on the theft of Lauren Tibbet's body from the mortuary.
That conversation wasn't exactly enlightening. It frustrated her that she hadn't investigated this personally but, then, she got the impression that they were dealing with someone who'd covered their tracks exceedingly well. In truth, it had been like that all along. Everything she and Sheelagh had analysed from the cash withdrawals onwards had been planned and it had been intricate. It was just that this latest twist felt excessive.
She was returning to her desk from the water cooler when Phil came back in and sat down.
'Anything fresh?' he asked.
'No,' she admitted, perching on the edge of his desk. 'I don't get it. Barton Street are telling me they've interviewed all the mortuary staff, checked all the CCTV and they've come up with nothing.'
'Listen, I'm sure they're taking it seriously. You just gotta be patient. Oh, no,' he went on. 'It's Miss Marple. Anyone'd think this was his second home.'
'I invited him actually,' Sam replied. 'I told him what happened.'
Phil growled. 'I hope Sheelagh knows.'
'Yes, it was her idea. I don't need teaching the same lesson twice, thank you very much.' Altering her tone, she slid off the desk. 'Hugh, thanks for coming in.'
'How are you?' he asked.
'Not bad,' she said evenly.
Hugh glanced across the desk. 'Phil.'
The amount of testosterone in the room was overwhelming and pointless. While she appreciated Phil's staunch defender routine, it was counter-productive at the moment. Equally, Hugh's antipathy wasn't helpful and she needed to steer him away from hostile forces towards something he could get his teeth into. So she sat at her desk and gestured for him to take a seat.
'Any more thoughts?' she questioned.
'This is obviously part of the abductor's game,' Hugh answered. 'Whoever this is, they're trying to torment you, they're trying to make you see how serious they really are.'
'Yeah, well, that's one theory,' Phil muttered. 'Maybe there's others.'
'Phil,' Sam admonished. 'Somebody stole a lookalike body and dumped it in the river near where Abi's clothes were found. Why else would somebody do that? How many other theories can there be?'
He conceded that with a shrug then stood up. 'I'll leave you to it.'
At least when he'd gone there was a little less tension hovering around. She suggested she and Hugh relocate into the empty incident room and they settled down opposite each other with a cup of a coffee apiece. From the look on his face, he was fully immersed in Abi's case and that was exactly what she needed from him right now.
'So what we need to ask ourselves is who has the know-how to pull something like this off,' he said finally. 'We're looking at a very intelligent person who, presumably, can bypass security systems. Either that or he works in the mortuary.'
'He?' she repeated.
'Everything we discussed previously points to a man,' Hugh replied. 'We both know that women rarely commit this kind of abduction. Statistically speaking, it's practically a dot on the landscape.'
She sighed. 'I know, I know.'
'Now someone who works in a menial role in the mortuary doesn't fit the profile,' he said. 'I mean, it could be someone who wouldn't arouse suspicion in the environment like a pathologist but he's still taking a risk, isn't he?'
Sam considered that for a minute then said, 'The investigating officers at Barton Street looked at the mortuary staff thoroughly. There's nobody who hasn't worked there for at least six months so no weak links in that respect. Now, I don't know how deep they've gone into their histories but it'd be a bit elaborate, wouldn't it?'
'Doesn't this strike you as an elaborate scheme?' Hugh retorted. 'But, no, I think you're right. I don't think our guy would demean himself. He's highly intelligent, completely in control. The profile doesn't fit the type of man who would willingly put himself in a position that he thinks is below him.'
'It was explicitly asked whether anyone had taken unusual amounts of leave,' Sam supplied. 'There was nothing consistent with taking time off work to stage an abduction.'
Hugh frowned. 'Stage one? Are you still working on this accomplice theory?'
'I'm not ruling anything out,' she answered steadily.
'Why are you so determined to believe that Abi's involved in this?' he queried. 'What is it – guilt? You want to believe that she hates you this much?'
She shifted in her seat. 'I'm just aware of how upset she's been recently.'
'This isn't the brainchild of a seventeen year-old girl,' he argued. 'It's the game of someone who really wants you to suffer and has the capacity to engineer something like this. If you don't believe it's an abduction, what am I doing here?'
'I do,' she assured him. 'I'm asking for your help, Hugh.'
Sighing, he crossed his arms. 'And the accomplice theory?'
'Is being taken care of by someone else,' she replied. 'Now, what are your thoughts on the practicalities of the mortuary theft?'
Although his disapproval was practically flashing in neon on his face, she'd given him an invitation to talk and express his opinions. That was something most men couldn't resist and Hugh was no exception. For the next half an hour they discussed the case thus far, with numerous deviations from the topic. The barbed comments to her relationship with Sheelagh were obvious but she dexterously avoided mentioning it outright.
'I think you need to check out this girl,' he said eventually.
'What do you mean?' she questioned. 'Surely it's just a case of a girl of the right physical type turning up at the right time?'
'That makes it sound opportunistic,' Hugh pointed out. 'We've already established this is a complex scheme. Why would you think the body turning up there would be opportunistic?'
'I wouldn't,' she lied. There was no reason to tell him about the figure who had apparently stalked her and Sheelagh to the bar the night before Lauren Tibbet's body had washed up; it wouldn't alter the outcome of the theory. 'I'm just keeping my options open.'
'Drill down into it,' he said. 'If there is a connection, you need to catch it. The investigating officers won't.'
'What kind of drilling?' she asked.
'Look at the girl's history,' he suggested. 'Is there a link between her and Abi? The suicide website perhaps or do they know each other from college?'
'They're from completely different areas,' Sam answered. 'I can't see Lauren being enrolled at Abi's college; I don't even know how old she is. I mean, I can find that out but other information'll be trickier. Well, unless I go to the source.'
'What do you mean?' he questioned. 'The investigating officers?'
She nodded. 'Yeah, or the family maybe.'
'That's a good call,' he said. 'If anyone can empathise with your situation, it's a mother who's lost a child. Follow it up.'
'I will,' she answered. 'Can you stick around or –'
'I've got a meeting in forty minutes but I can pop back later,' he said, standing. 'By then maybe you'll have a clearer picture of what's going on here.'
Although she saw him to the top of the stairs, her mind was already elsewhere. When she returned to her desk she pulled up the details of Lauren Tibbet's case and located a number for her mother. She deliberated for a few minutes before putting the call in and then she equivocated about the reason she wanted to visit Jane Tibbet. Her situation with Abi wasn't one you could easily explain over the phone and she was just grateful that Jane had agreed to see her without throwing complexities into the mix right now. She'd be able to properly gauge the situation when they were face-to-face.
Grabbing her coat, she was about to make a discreet exit when Phil caught her by the door.
'Sam, where you going?' he asked.
'I'm going to see the dead girl's mother,' she explained.
Phil growled. 'Hugh put you up to this, didn't he? She's not gonna wanna see you.'
'It was my idea to do this,' she replied. 'I wanna know if there's a connection, Phil.'
'Have you discussed this with Sheelagh?' he pressed.
'No,' she admitted. 'Look, I'd love to have her with me on this but with everything going on in uniform at the moment it's not practical. I'm not hiding it from her, I'll tell her the first chance I get. And if she wants to criticise me for it then I'll take the bollocking from her, okay?'
With a chuckle, he said, 'She really has got you under the thumb, hasn't she?'
'Yes,' she answered. 'So are you satisfied? Can I go?'
He shrugged and stepped aside. On the way out of the nick, she did keep her eyes open for Sheelagh but she wasn't around and she had no option but to leave without talking to her. In truth, she would've appreciated Sheelagh's input and she'd have been able to talk to Jane Tibbet in the same gentle way she'd spoken to Raymond after Tess Garvey's death. Sam knew she could manage this on her own; it was just that she'd rather not. She trusted Sheelagh far more than she trusted herself.
Jane Tibbet lived in a nice area.
Locking up the car, Sam began second-guessing what she was about to do and forced herself to knock on the door before she talked herself out of it. After all, she'd called Jane and not turning up would be cruel considering what she was going through. If Abi had been killed, she wouldn't want people messing her about. Since she wasn't sure what Jane had been told about the body theft, she had to tread carefully and not mention it unless Jane did first.
'DS Nixon?' Jane questioned when she opened the door.
'Yeah, thanks for talking to me,' she said, holding up her warrant card as courtesy. All sorts came out of the woodwork at times like this and she needed to do this properly.
'That's all right,' Jane answered. 'Come in.'
It was a lovely house, a real family home. It also had a gaping hole in it. Sam recognised that from her own experiences and she felt acutely out of place as she took the seat offered to her. She tried not to look too closely at her gaunt cheeks and red-rimmed eyes but how could she treat this as a typical case when the experience felt so similar to what she could be going through shortly?
'Let me explain,' she said as gently as she could. 'I am a police officer but I haven't come about your daughter. I've come about my daughter. Abigail. She's missing, we think she's been abducted.'
'I don't understand,' Jane said. 'Your daughter's been abducted?'
Sam sighed. 'I was hoping you could help me.'
'I'm not sure how I can,' replied Jane.
'Well, do you know if Lauren knew Abi?' Sam asked. 'Has she ever talked about her?'
Shaking her head, Jane said, 'I knew all of Lauren's friends. I'd remember if she'd mentioned your daughter's name.'
'Okay.' Sam paused. 'What about the internet? Did Lauren use a regular chat room?'
'She only used the computer for her schoolwork,' Jane answered. 'I mean, we're not even connected.'
'Possibly friends' houses?' Sam probed. 'Could she have used the internet there?'
'I don't know,' said Jane. 'Look, I doubt it.'
Sam hesitated before saying, 'I'm sorry to have to ask you this but I found out my daughter had made contact with a suicide pact website.
'Suicide?' Jane repeated.
'I had no idea,' Sam added
Bristling, Jane replied, 'I don't know the sorts of things your daughter was involved in but you're not talking about Lauren.'
'Well, that's just it,' Sam answered in her best conciliatory tone, 'I had no idea of half the things she was involved in.'
'I knew my daughter and she was a good girl,' insisted Jane.
With a grimace, Sam said, 'I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. Perhaps Lauren met Abi through something she did with her father.'
Jane looked up sharply. 'No.'
'Did he spend much time with Lauren?' Sam queried.
Abruptly, Jane stood. 'Okay, I'd like you to leave.'
Sam also rose. 'I didn't mean to offend you, Jane.'
'I hope you find your daughter,' Jane said, gesturing to the door. 'I really do. But, if something has happened to her, I hope they let you grieve in peace.'
That struck home and she suddenly felt like a complete vulture. Phil had been right – this was a terrible idea. If she'd seen Sheelagh before she'd left the nick she would've agreed and Sam wouldn't have intruded on this poor woman's grief. Without another word, she nodded and headed for the door. Only when she was outside in the fresh air did she brush the stray tears from her cheeks and attempt to forget the wounds she'd just opened for Jane Tibbet.
When she got back to the nick she sat down at her desk and tried to focus on her paperwork mountain. It was far more staring into space than working and when Phil tapped his hand on her chair to get her attention she nearly jumped out of it.
'Listen, I've been doing a bit of digging for you,' he said. 'Paul Tibbet, Lauren's dad? He's got a record. He was caught embezzling funds from his own company. Can't have been easy on the home front.'
'Well, perhaps things weren't as rosy as she painted,' Sam conceded. 'But I'm not going round there again.'
'I can make a few phone calls if you like,' Phil suggested. 'See what's happening.'
'Whatever,' she muttered.
This time she made a concerted effort to work on her backlog, if only to deflect Phil's attention. The DI passed through and made some conciliatory noises, saying that he'd put a request in to Barton Street for a copy of the second post-mortem. She signalled her appreciation of that then went back to her paperwork. One thing about the CPS was that they supplied rainforests full of things to do for times like this.
Eventually, she was disturbed by her desk phone ringing. She thought it might be the front desk calling up to say Hugh had returned but it was more surprising than that.
'There's a woman called Jane Tibbet down here to see you,' Marilyn said.
'I'll come down,' she said instantly.
As she hurried downstairs, she wondered what this was. Surely if Jane was going to put in a complaint she wouldn't ask to speak to her first. Then again, Jane had come across as a very fair woman. Maybe she just thought it was right to let her know she was going to complain before she did it. That was probably what Sheelagh would do in this situation.
The front office was subdued but it still wasn't the appropriate place to have this conversation. After checking the interview room was free, she gestured Jane inside and closed the door behind them. The look on Jane's face wasn't combative so Sam really didn't know what this was about but she was hopeful it wasn't going to be an argument.
'Jane, I'm really pleased you came in. Have a seat.' As they sat on opposite sides of the desk, she continued, 'I'm really sorry I came –'
'Your daughter's missing,' Jane interrupted. 'When I thought about what I'd have done in your position... I'd have done the same thing. Look, there are some things that I didn't tell you. You're a detective, you probably know all about my family by now.'
Sam glanced briefly at the table. 'Your husband has financial trouble.'
'Paul...' Jane paused, evidently struggling to keep her voice level. 'He was desperate, I suppose, his business was failing. He tried to shield us from what was happening at first.'
'It must've been hard,' Sam said sincerely.
'He started drinking, getting very angry,' Jane went on. 'I didn't want to split the family up but what choice did I have?'
'How did Lauren feel about it?' asked Sam carefully.
'I tried to protect her from what he was really like,' answered Jane. 'The day she died Lauren and I had had a fight. She told me she wanted to go and live with her dad. I lost my temper and I told her to go...' Clenching her jaw, she covered her face for a few moments. 'He turned her away. If I'd stopped her, she wouldn't have been walking alone at night, she wouldn't have been hit –'
Sam reached across the table and took her hand. 'Jane, it was an accident. I'm sorry.'
'You know, you're the only person I've really talked to since it happened,' Jane admitted with tears congregating in her eyes.
If earlier Sam had felt like a vulture, now her axis had shifted and she didn't know what she felt like. If the worst happened with Abi then she'd be able to turn to Sheelagh; she would always have been able to turn to Sheelagh, whether the last month of their relationship had occurred or not. For Jane not to have the kind of person in her life she could turn to was heartbreaking and, like with Raymond a few weeks ago, Sam found herself pulling out her business card.
'Listen,' she said firmly, 'and I mean this. I don't care that Lauren's case isn't related to Abi's and I'm not usually any good with tea and sympathy. But my partner is and we'd be happy to talk any time. She lost – we lost – a daughter to cot death in January. It's not the same but we do understand some of what you're going through.'
Jane blinked a few times. 'You lost a daughter?'
'Sheelagh – my partner – did,' Sam said. 'It's complicated. It was before we were together but I was still like a parent to Niamh for a few weeks. Anyway, what I'm saying is that if you need someone to talk to, we're here for you.'
'You're not lying to me, are you?' asked Jane softly.
'Oh, I wish I was,' she murmured and something in the tone of her voice must've been convincing. She tentatively continued, 'For me, after Niamh died, I was focused on holding it together. I tried to bury my grief so I could help Sheelagh with hers. I remember getting home to Abi after it had happened and I broke down with her. It was probably the closest we've ever been.'
'You've really got a complicated life, haven't you?' Jane queried with a little smile.
'Haven't we all?' Sam returned.
When she saw Jane out a few minutes later she felt completely drained. She wasn't used to opening up to anyone, let alone strangers, but she was glad she'd done it. It seemed to have done Jane some good and if that was the only thing to come out of this fiasco then she was proud of herself anyway.
'Sam?'
Turning around, she found Hugh hovering by the desk. 'Oh, hi.'
'Who was that?' he asked, nodding to the door.
'Lauren Tibbet's mum,' she answered.
'Was it a useful meeting?' he queried.
'For her, I hope so,' she replied. 'Shall we go upstairs?'
Although he pressed her for more details on her dealings with Jane, she felt like it'd been a contract between mothers and refused to give him anything but the bare bones. It was just as well they were caught by Manson as they walked through the doors.
'There you are,' he said curtly. 'Dr Wallis, good to see you again.'
'Has something happened, Guv?' Sam asked anxiously.
He brandished a file. 'I wanted to give you this. It's the results of the post-mortem, Barton Street sent it over and there's something interesting on the body. Take a look.'
Leaving them with the file, he disappeared. Sam frowned and took it over to her desk to have a proper read through. What she found surprised her as much as anything she'd encountered over the last few weeks and when Phil came in she incredulously waved him over to join her and Hugh.
'PM results on Lauren Tibbet,' she explained.
'Anything in there?' Phil questioned.
'Lauren had some sort of handmade tattoo on her stomach,' she answered. 'S-8.'
'What, was it a needle and ink job?' he asked.
'Mmm,' she said. Not for the first time in the last twenty minutes, she traced the pattern with her finger, as though doing so would bring her closer to Abi.
'Yeah, well, a load of idiots in my school used to have them,' Phil said.
'Only this was put on post-mortem,' Hugh supplied.
'It's a clue, Phil,' Sam told him. 'S-8. Whoever stole her body put that on her for me to find.'
Phil sniffed. 'That's one possibility, isn't it?'
'It's the only possibility,' she insisted. 'And now I've finally got this clue to finding Abi and I don't know what it means.'
'We'll work it out,' Hugh said. 'Look, I can come over and we can –'
'I need time to think,' she interrupted when Phil cleared his throat. 'I'm sorry, Hugh. It's just this has been a shock, this whole thing. I need time to take it in. You know, on top of everything that's happened to this nick in the last couple of days. It's all a bit much.'
Irritation swept across his face but he smiled. 'Sure. You call me when you're ready. See you.'
As soon as the doors swung closed, she rested her head back and stared at the ceiling. At least with only Phil there she felt as though she could show emotion that wouldn't be perceived as complete weakness. He pulled up his chair and rested his elbows on the desk.
'Have you heard the latest on Kerry?' he asked.
She shook her head. 'Have they caught the sniper?'
'Not quite,' he said. 'Turns out that PC Young was the one leaking information to the sniper in the first place. Him and the press.'
'You're joking?' Sam queried. 'Is that confirmed?'
'It's all round the nick,' he answered.
Checking her watch, she muttered, 'Sheelagh's due to finish in half an hour. She'll wanna get out of here tonight.'
'And what about you?' he questioned.
'I wanna get out of here every night,' she retorted.
He chuckled. 'Fair enough.'
Considerately, he left her be. There was too much going on in her head for her to be able to unpack it all for him and she was truly concerned about how Sheelagh was taking the revelations about Kerry. It would've reverberated through uniform like another gunshot and instinct was telling her that it would've hit Sheelagh harder than most. So she ensured that she was ready to go the moment the shift ended, hovering around outside with Lauren Tibbet's file safely in her bag.
As soon as Sheelagh stepped outside the conflict was evident on her face. 'You've heard about Kerry?'
Sam nodded. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'
Although Sheelagh managed a small smile, it was clear she was on edge. Her eyes slipped towards the memorial flowers left for Kerry then she sighed and took off towards the car. Sam strode after her and they got into the car without a word. Only when she made a right instead of a left turn at a junction did Sheelagh realise they weren't going home.
'Where are we going?' she asked.
'We're gonna get some air,' Sam replied. 'No arguments.'
From that, Sheelagh must've deduced where they were going. She at least didn't make any further comment and when they pulled up on the waste ground near Barker's Quay she didn't look at all surprised. Both of them left the car, Sam vividly recalling the last time they'd been here the day Abi's clothes had been found. It felt like a lifetime ago. In many respects, it had been.
She watched Sheelagh rest her arms on the railings and mirrored her pose, gazing across the river. Whatever was going on, Sam wasn't going to push it. It was important that it all came out in its own time.
'I understand Polly,' Sheelagh said finally, still staring into the water. 'I may not agree with it but I know why she did what she did. And, Phil, you know, it's logical what he did with Gregory and Weaver. It was for money. I get that. But you make a choice, don't you? When you sign up you're pretty much saying you won't act like the criminals. It's the lying that gets me.'
Sam glanced sideways. 'We don't know why Kerry did what she did. Unless we find the sniper, we might never know.'
'What does it matter?' retorted Sheelagh. 'She looked us in the eye every day and lied.'
'I agree,' Sam said, 'there nothing that can justify it. Every day she was feeding information to the sniper and to the press she was putting her colleagues in danger – she was putting you in danger. I could never forgive her for that, whatever skewed logic she was using. I think Kerry lost her way but I don't think that's why you're so upset by this.'
Swallowing, Sheelagh muttered, 'I got into a row with Yvonne earlier. She was defending her friend, saying exactly what you just said, and I was vicious with her.'
'I doubt you were vicious,' argued Sam. 'Harsh, maybe – at the extreme.'
'I'm a hypocrite, that's what I am,' Sheelagh said. 'I agreed to lie for Des, never mind give him the benefit of the doubt.'
'You were pregnant and you were scared,' Sam reminded her. 'It's entirely different.'
Sheelagh shook her head. 'It doesn't excuse it.'
'Okay, listen,' Sam said firmly, turning to face her, 'you don't need to believe me but I know this is true. You would never have lied indefinitely for Des. You were all churned up, sweetheart, and, besides, Des's actions were in the distant past. He wasn't putting his colleagues in day-to-day danger like Kerry was. He didn't take the law into his own hands, it was an accident. You had to believe that – for Niamh's sake as well as your own.'
Eventually, Sheelagh looked at her and scanned her face as only she could. Then it seemed as if she gave in, moving into her arms and kissing her cheek. Sam managed a small smile that she'd navigated the rocky waters then focused all her energies in soothing Sheelagh.
'I didn't love him,' Sheelagh murmured into her ear. 'Why does it get to me so much?'
'You know the answer to that as well as I do,' Sam answered, squeezing tight before letting go. She brushed hair from Sheelagh's eyes then continued, 'I told someone about her today, you know. Jane Tibbet, the dead girl's mum. I told her that if she wanted to talk she could come to us, gave her my card.'
Sheelagh exhaled. 'I'm so sorry, I didn't even ask.'
'Shush, plenty of time for that,' said Sam. 'We can grab a takeaway on the way home and talk there. Are you feeling better?'
'Yeah,' Sheelagh admitted. After looking at her for a long moment, she closed the gap between them for a kiss that made every muscle in Sam's body clench. 'I do love you.'
'That's fortunate,' she replied, tugging her back towards the car. 'Waking up with me tomorrow morning would be awkward otherwise.'
That triggered a proper laugh from Sheelagh and they returned to the car with their arms entwined. In the car, Sheelagh was far more there than before, even if she didn't ask any questions. They called at a Cantonese takeaway then went back to Sam's. It was intuition that told her they needed to be alone tonight and she offhandedly suggested to Sheelagh that she drop a text to Connor to that effect. It was true that nothing she could say to Sheelagh these days came across as casual and they knew each other so well that her attempts at delicacy were readily understood. Not that she minded too much – she liked this intimacy far too much for that.
Once they'd eaten, they relocated to the sofa with a bottle of wine and jazz playing softly in the background. Sam had made the conscious decision to avoid ABBA and, from the expression on Sheelagh's face, she suspected she knew that.
'Tell me,' Sheelagh said simply.
Sam nuzzled into her neck and enjoyed the security of that before launching into a succinct analysis of what had happened today. She covered everything she'd discussed with Hugh and her barging into Jane Tibbet's house with her size nines.
'I handled it badly,' she admitted. 'I shouldn't have gone round there. I was just lucky she came back to the nick later on.'
'You must've got through to her on some level,' Sheelagh argued, stroking her hair. 'She wouldn't have come back otherwise.'
'Maybe,' she said, 'but I still shouldn't have gone round there. Anyway, she said I was the only person she'd really spoken to about Lauren's death. Maybe I helped.'
'Sounds to me like you did a good thing,' replied Sheelagh.
'Why would someone do this?' Sam asked after a moment. 'That poor woman's lost her daughter so someone steals her from the mortuary just to make a point to me? It's twisted. I mean, it's not Abi, is it? A seventeen year-old girl doesn't come up with something like this. Then there's the tattoo.'
'Tattoo?' Sheelagh repeated.
'Sorry, a pen and ink tattoo inflicted on the body post-mortem,' she explained. 'S-8. It means something, I just have no idea what.'
'Did Hugh have any theories?' Sheelagh questioned.
Sam shrugged. 'We didn't really have time to discuss it. I wanted to talk it over with you first to be honest. I don't want to get carried away like I did this morning with Jane; I need to look at it properly with you. Hugh has a habit of pushing and I need to step back and think.'
Drawing away, Sheelagh searched her face then kissed her deeply. 'Darling, I don't want you making these decisions because you think it's what I want to hear.'
'It's not that,' Sam returned firmly. 'I see it now, that's all. When I work with Hugh I feel like I'm in a classroom. He has all the answers, or he's gonna be the one to get them. It's...exhausting and counterproductive. I don't think Hugh's the one to solve this. It's about us – it's about you and me – and we work well together, you know that. Everything concrete that we've got, we've either worked it out together or it's been handed to us. I've got theories from Hugh but no leads and, frankly, I trust us more than I trust him.'
'Why?' Sheelagh pressed, holding her gaze.
Sam rested a palm on her cheek. 'This is why. We've already established that I don't have to say a word and you know what's going on in my head. We want the same thing. You know, we bring Abi home and we can be a family. She started this because of us and we need to be the ones to finish it.'
'Okay,' murmured Sheelagh, 'so where do we go next?'
'Do you think the theft of Lauren's body was opportunistic?' Sam questioned. 'First answer, come on.'
Nodding, Sheelagh said, 'The timing fits. That figure outside the bar – it was someone getting us to take notice, wasn't it?'
'That's what I think too,' answered Sam. 'Sure, there are superficial similarities between Abi and Lauren's circumstances but, unless we're saying our guy was part of that original investigation, then he wouldn't have known that. No, it was a case of blonde girl of the same age at the right time.'
'I still can't believe no one saw anything,' Sheelagh remarked. 'Was any of the CCTV missing or tampered with?'
'All accounted for,' Sam replied. 'There's only one exit that isn't covered. It's a service entrance in the basement, used for discretion when necessary. Not many people know about it and they figure that was where Lauren's body was smuggled out.'
'So it's someone with knowledge of that exit,' said Sheelagh. 'Surely that narrows it down.'
Sam sighed and settled back against her. 'You'd think so. Either someone's being intentionally obstructive, stupid maybe, on the staff or our guy's got insider knowledge. I don't know how to follow that path and I doubt it's gonna get us anywhere. I mean, this guy is adept at covering his tracks. I think we'll hit a dead end. That leaves us with the tattoo,' she added. 'Following what's been handed to us.'
'Believe me, I hate doing that as much as you do,' Sheelagh returned, catching the frustration in her voice. 'We said he'll slip up at some point. I believe that, it's just not yet.'
'Full tilt at the lead that's been handed to us then,' Sam muttered. 'Where do we start?'
Sheelagh chuckled. 'You're the great detective, you tell me.'
Toying with the hem of Sheelagh's top, she said, 'Back to the drawing board. We crosscheck the tattoo with everything we already know about Abi's disappearance. Run it through the address book, the emails, the suicide website, everything. At the same time, I'll check at the nick tomorrow and see if it's come up in any other cases. I don't think it will have done but we need to cover the bases. I'm not risking missing anything.'
'There,' Sheelagh said, 'we've got a plan. Right now, though, you've got a choice.'
'I have?' Sam queried. Her fingertips scraped against Sheelagh's skin and there was a sharp intake of breath just above her head. Smirking, she said, 'Oh, that kind of choice.'
Sheelagh shifted. 'One way or another, you need to move that hand.'
'Any preference?' Sam murmured. 'Should I move it here like this or should I just –'
'Stop talking,' interrupted Sheelagh, drawing her in for a passionate kiss that pretty much put paid to all coherent thought. Not that Sam minded one bit.
The next morning she ached pleasantly and could barely keep the smile from her face when she thought about last night.
Logically, she knew she should be all over the place today given yesterday's revelations about Lauren Tibbet, but she was grounded by the fact that they had a plan to deal with it. While Sheelagh worked her shift Sam was going to collate the information they needed with a view to discussing it tonight, while still keeping up to date on her paperwork and general police business. Then they'd go home to Connor so he could spend the night ignoring them in his room while they went over Abi's case. When she'd outlined this to Sheelagh as they fell asleep last night she'd been rewarded with renewed interest in her lips that'd kept her awake for a good twenty minutes more. Just the thought of that made her smile again.
'Stop it,' Sheelagh warned as they drove.
'I'm not doing anything,' she retorted. Since that was an outright lie, she hastily continued, 'How are you feeling about the whole Kerry thing today?'
Sheelagh rested a hand on her knee. 'Like I should keep my mouth shut and keep out of it.'
'You're allowed an opinion,' Sam reminded her.
'We can't do anything about Kerry,' Sheelagh replied, 'but we can try and find Abi. Let's focus on that, okay?'
'Okay,' she returned.
They separated in the front office again and, this time, Marilyn clocked it and took note. Sam recognised that but, since she didn't want to spook Sheelagh, she ignored it and said a curt goodbye. At some point they were going to have to face up to how intimate they were within the nick, even if that time wasn't now. Marilyn was a gossip and if Debbie McAllister had recognised the undercurrent then it was glaringly obvious to all. Even so, Sam couldn't bring herself to deal with it now. If she'd been asked a few months ago whether she'd be comfortable about her relationship with Sheelagh being an open secret about the station she would've answered a resounding 'no' but things had changed dramatically.
The day played out much as she'd expected it to with no surprises. Phil was out on a case all day and the rest of CID was either too intimidated or too awkward to interrogate her about Abi. Perhaps that was the way she was going to deflect gossip about her and Sheelagh in the long run.
By the time she left her desk to meet Sheelagh out front she was definitely ready to get started on some proper detective work. Idly, she wondered if all her cases would work far more smoothly if she investigated them with Sheelagh by her side then she caught sight of her girlfriend waiting for her by a pillar and all coherent thoughts were swept away.
'Hi,' she murmured.
'Hi,' Sheelagh returned then she swallowed hard.
'What is it?' asked Sam.
'I want to kiss you,' admitted Sheelagh.
'Probably not the best idea,' Sam said with a grimace. 'But, just so you know, the feeling's mutual. Come on, let's get somewhere a little more private. Like maybe the back seat of my car,' she added in a lower voice. Sheelagh still heard her though and let out a soft laugh that did Sam's distracted mind no favours whatsoever.
In the car, she refrained from dragging the conversation into the gutter and instead asked, 'How was your day?'
Sheelagh settled a hand on her thigh. 'Me and Steve dealt with this old fella. We arrested him taking pictures of kids in the park, claimed he was taking pictures of his granddaughter. Steve was like a Rottweiler with him but there was something off about it. Turns out his granddaughter died of a heart condition in the park when she was seven, he hasn't come to terms with it yet. Poor fella'd convinced himself he was taking pictures of her growing up.'
'That's terrible,' Sam said, squeezing her hand. 'Did you keep Steve on a lead?'
'Once he understood he was better with him,' answered Sheelagh. 'He means well, he just tries too hard sometimes. Wanting to prove he's different.'
'Can't exactly blame him for that,' she returned. 'Phil might claim he's turning over a new leaf but I'm only choosing to believe that, I'm not an idiot.'
'That's good to hear,' Sheelagh said with a smile. 'I heard Jack was back today. How did that go?'
Sam grimaced. 'He needs to slow down or he'll put himself right back in hospital. I mean, you know what Manson's like. Yeah, he's been making his mark in the last few weeks but I genuinely don't think it was with the intention of getting one over on Jack.'
In the passenger seat, Sheelagh snorted. 'I never thought I'd hear that.'
'Don't get me wrong, I still think he's a manipulative careerist but this wasn't his moment,' Sam said. 'You can be low and devious but you have to pick the right time.'
'You've thought about this?' questioned Sheelagh innocently.
'I could've taken a degree in devious,' Sam shot back. When Sheelagh smirked she queried, 'What?'
'Past tense,' Sheelagh replied.
Clearing her throat, Sam retorted, 'Slip of the tongue.'
They got back to an empty house and Sheelagh immediately set about making a casserole while Sam spread all their Abi research on the kitchen table. If she was the one dicing the carrots not only would holding a conversation be difficult, there'd likely be blood all over the worktop. Fortunately, Sheelagh was much better at this and instructed her to start from the beginning with everything they knew about Abi's disappearance.
Talking it out from the beginning refreshing Sam's memory and she added recent events to the timeline they'd concocted. She also pinpointed the mortuary and the location the body had washed up on the map Sheelagh had worked from before.
'It's nowhere near the anomalous cash withdrawals,' Sam commented. 'There's at least one facility in that area – why not use that?'
Sheelagh dried her hands then came to rub her shoulders. 'What does that tell us?'
'Speculatively... It could indicate either a reluctance to use a facility close to his home or that he has connections with – or knowledge of – this mortuary that made it a safer bet.' She leaned back into Sheelagh's body. 'Or the cash withdrawals could've been distractions, like Hugh says.'
'Do you believe that?' Sheelagh asked.
Shaking her head, Sam said, 'For the first withdrawal she was upset. She'd gone from the nick to the Embankment to this mystery location. I think we can pretty much assume that she withdrew the cash before she met whoever she met that day. She didn't leave Glenn till around three and she was late back – just before me. It's possible that she made the withdrawal with the accomplice or after she'd met them but I think it's unlikely.'
'Because?' Sheelagh pressed.
'Well, when you went for a look round you said the ATM wasn't one you'd stumble across,' answered Sam. 'She was looking for one. Now, if you're going to see someone you haven't seen for a while what do you do?'
'An adult doesn't go empty-handed,' Sheelagh said. 'But she's only a teenager, remember.'
'Desperate to be treated like an adult though,' Sam countered. 'Think about it. She's just seen me standing in the station steadfastly ignoring the fact that I know that you... Then she went to see Glenn who pushed her away, told her he was getting married and emigrating. What does she do next? She goes to see someone who she wants to treat her like a grown-up. It's not a friend, it's definitely not someone her own age. This is all mad speculation, isn't it?'
'Speculation? Yes. Mad? No.' Sheelagh kissed her head then returned to the chopping board. 'Keep going.'
'So we've pretty much decided that, whatever Abi's intentions were when she started this, it's out of her control now,' Sam went on after a few seconds. 'Otherwise she'd be back here saying 'I told you so' repeatedly. Her motivations don't matter, apart from that they brought her into contact with someone with a different agenda.'
'Such as?' asked Sheelagh. 'Agenda, not person.'
For a minute Sam stared at her hips then shook her herself. 'Erm... No clue.'
Sheelagh threw a glance over her shoulder. 'You can do better than that, come on.'
'Okay, okay,' she replied. 'So far we've focused on Abi and people in her life – friends, family, that kinda thing. All of that's come up blank, yeah? Maybe because it's not someone who's in her life right now but someone who has been in the past.'
'Go on,' Sheelagh said.
Sighing, Sam muttered, 'I didn't bring people into our lives, not as a rule. If she met people through me they were colleagues or... Well, they were colleagues,' she concluded with a wry smile. 'That's literally the extent of it.'
Sheelagh was silent while she tipped the vegetables into the pan. 'No friends?'
'No,' she admitted. 'I didn't have time for anyone in my life, I didn't want anyone.'
'Was she close to any of these colleagues?' Sheelagh queried.
Sam clasped her hands on the tabletop. 'At my last nick she spent more time hanging around than she should've done. I think she was on first-name terms with the staff in the canteen. It wasn't ideal. No, it was wrong, I know that. The thing is, she could've become friends with anybody in the nick and just not told me about it. That was the time when she was really starting to ask questions about her father. It was rocky and everyone knew it.'
Turning around, Sheelagh leaned against the counter. 'Why did you transfer to Sun Hill? I don't think you've ever said.'
'Opportunity,' she said, shrugging. 'You know, Sun Hill CID was notorious. After the whole Don Beech thing most coppers wanted to avoid it like the plague.'
'Why do I get the feeling you put your hand up and started jumping up and down?' asked Sheelagh.
Rising, Sam approached and settled her hands around her waist. 'How are you enjoying that image?'
'Quite a bit,' Sheelagh replied with a smirk.
Sam kissed her then said, 'Well, hold that thought till tomorrow. Anyway, yeah, I was eager. Apart from anything, I was aware of the serial killer case. I wanted in.'
'And you got in,' said Sheelagh softly, tilting her head to the side. 'Did you have any particular enemies at your old nick?'
'You know me, right?' Sam retorted.
'Yes,' Sheelagh replied indulgently. 'I know you. Could you at least narrow it down? Bring it into single figures?'
Snickering, Sam pressed their lips together again. 'I think once we've crosschecked Abi's address book and everything else, we might need to make a proper start on mine beyond asking people if they've seen her. I can't think of anyone off the top of my head who would want to hurt me this much and who Abi might have a strong enough relationship with to pull it off but that doesn't mean there isn't anyone.'
'Let me get this cooking and we can go through all Abi's stuff again,' Sheelagh said. After a moment, she added, 'That means not looking at me like that.'
Sam inhaled deeply and stepped back. 'I apologise.'
A few minutes later Sheelagh sat down beside her and took the pile of emails while Sam covered Abi's address book and then the phone records. She didn't know exactly what she was looking for but she figured she'd know it when she saw it. In the meantime, she was analysing everything tangentially related to 'S-8' but still coming up blank.
'If this is a needle in a haystack, it's a very small needle,' she commented, slapping the papers down. 'How about you – anything?'
'No,' admitted Sheelagh. 'Maybe we should swap? We've got half an hour before the casserole's ready.'
'Half an hour...' Sam repeated then swallowed her inappropriate thoughts down. 'Yeah, I'll take a look at the emails, pass them here.'
From the quirk of Sheelagh's eyebrow, she knew her little mental slip hadn't gone unnoticed but, then, she'd be disappointed if it had. They swapped piles and continued with just the casserole bubbling over on the hob until they each came to another dead end.
'This is ridiculous,' Sam muttered as she collected the papers and stuffed them back into her bag. 'If it's a clue, surely it's something I'm meant to figure out.'
Sheelagh refrained from responding until they both had a plate in front of them. 'That's assuming you are meant to figure it out.'
Frowning, she questioned, 'You think I'm not?'
'I think it's a long shot,' answered Sheelagh reasonably. 'A clue's meant to be worked out but this is vague and nonsensical. Unless something pops up from your past that explains it then we're on a hiding to nothing.'
'This is gorgeous,' Sam said, gesturing to the plate. 'How do you mean?'
'Spoon feeding,' Sheelagh replied. 'If nothing explains it then maybe it's just a warning, a reminder. Like the video message. It served no real purpose except to reiterate that Abi's still missing.'
'It's a lot of trouble to go to just to say that again,' Sam returned. 'It's sick, it's vindictive.'
'It's intelligent, stealing a body and orchestrating all this,' Sheelagh argued. 'Maybe that's the point.'
Finding she didn't have an immediate response to that, she focused on her dinner instead. In hindsight, she couldn't have fallen for a more perfect woman – gorgeous, bright, funny and a brilliant cook. Debbie had been right when she said she'd fallen on her feet.
'I forgot to say,' she said suddenly, 'Debbie asked me pass on her thanks.'
Sheelagh looked up dubiously. 'To me?'
'Well, to the woman who went out of her way to make her feel better when Jack had his heart attack,' Sam replied. 'Certainly sounds like you.'
'It was nothing,' Sheelagh said.
'It struck a chord with Debbie,' Sam told her. 'If you hadn't shown that little bit of kindness, I think she'd be blabbing about us round the nick by now.'
'She knows?' asked Sheelagh anxiously.
'Afraid so,' Sam said. 'If even DS McAllister's got it worked out, we might be in trouble. Actually, I think Marilyn might've guessed as well. I'm sorry.'
Sheelagh took a long sip of water then shook her head. 'Don't be. It's as much my fault as yours. We haven't been exactly discreet about turning up to work every day. It's the last thing I should be worried about.'
'But?' Sam questioned. She entwined their fingers on the tabletop and smiled reassuringly at her. 'It's okay, you're allowed a bit of a panic.'
'I don't have doubts,' said Sheelagh.
'I know,' Sam said firmly.
Biting her lip, Sheelagh continued, 'It's not that I –'
Sam broke her off with a kiss. 'A wise woman told me last night that I needed to stop talking. I think she should take her own advice. I'm just keeping you in the loop, that's all. We're not keeping secrets anymore, remember?'
'You're doing okay at this, you know,' Sheelagh said, stroking her cheek.
'That's because you're feeding me well,' she retorted.
Sheelagh burst out laughing. 'I knew there'd be a reason.'
They finished dinner in silence then Sam insisted on washing up while Sheelagh relocated to the sofa with a glass of wine. When Sam walked through to join her she found her splayed out with music playing softly in the background. If they didn't have an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't do anything when Connor was around – or due to be, at least – then she wouldn't have been able to resist going over there and gently coaxing Sheelagh's clothes off. It wasn't that it startled her how much she wanted her; it was more that she'd kept it bottled up for so long that she could hardly believe she was actually allowed to touch.
'Can I join you?' she asked quietly.
Opening her eyes, Sheelagh raised her neck and allowed her to slot into the far corner before settling back down. Sam dropped a kiss onto her forehead and began stroking her hair, feeling both of them relax more by the minute. Her mind was running over all the stuff they'd discussed tonight and the frankly bizarre week they'd had more generally. She was dealing in 'if onlys' a lot lately but if only Abi was home safe she'd finally feel as if all the bits of her life had slotted into place.
After a while she realised that Sheelagh had fallen asleep on her lap and that just made her smile all the more. She finally closed her own eyes – only for a minute – and then awoke with a jolt as someone touched her arm. She was surprised to find Connor gingerly draping a blanket over them both with Sheelagh curled into her stomach fast asleep.
'Well, this is awkward,' Sam murmured as Connor retreated. Her instinct was to move but she couldn't bear to wake Sheelagh so she was forced to sit still, uncertain of how Connor was taking this. 'Erm...how are you?'
He snorted. 'Fancy a cuppa? Sofa service,' he added. 'Wouldn't want to wake Sleeping Beauty, would we?'
Nodding, she watched him go then turned her attention back to Sheelagh. This was the perfect end to a strange week and when Connor returned to pass her a cup of tea her smile was genuine.
'Your mum left you some casserole in the oven,' she said in a low voice. 'We didn't know what time you'd be home.'
'Thanks,' he said then he tilted his head to the side in the same way his mother had earlier. 'Can I ask a stupid question?'
'Go for it,' she replied.
'You look incredibly uncomfortable,' he continued. 'How long are you planning on staying like that?'
'Until my back gives out,' she quipped. 'No, I'm great, honestly. Where have you been – anywhere nice?'
He shifted in his chair. 'Yeah, I went for a few drinks with...'
'A friend,' Sam supplied with a little smirk. 'A good friend?'
'Not yet,' he answered, chewing on his lip. 'He could be.'
'Does he have a name?' she questioned.
'Are you spying for the enemy?' he countered.
'If I'm the enemy,' a groggy voice muttered, 'you need to get out more.'
Sam grinned. 'You're meant to be asleep.'
'Well, you two talk too loud.' Sheelagh turned over to face Connor, though she didn't bother lifting her head up. 'Maybe it was a mother's hearing.'
'It's a potent thing,' Sam agreed, catching Connor's eye.
He groaned. 'Oh, you two are impossible.'
'It's easier just to tell us,' Sam told him. 'Two coppers, Connor. Think about that for a second. We could make your life a misery.'
'All we want is a name,' Sheelagh added. 'Then I can go back to sleep.'
'Mitch,' he said finally. 'And, no, nothing's happened and, yes, he's a nice guy who isn't into anything dodgy. He's a DJ, works as a regular at that club we went to that time. I like him but I don't know if it's gonna be more than that. Okay? Interrogation over?'
Sam chuckled and looked down to meet Sheelagh's eye before reminding him, 'All we wanted was a name. But thank you for your cooperation.'
With a snicker, he rose. 'I'm going to bed.'
'When can we meet him?' Sheelagh called as he reached the door.
'At my retirement party,' he shot back. 'Goodnight, Mum. Goodnight, Sam.'
'Goodnight, Connor,' they said in unison.
They managed to control their amusement until they heard him reach the top of the stairs then Sheelagh rolled onto her back and began laughing. Sam joined in and they spent a couple of minutes in stitches then Sheelagh tugged her down by the collar for a kiss.
'That was fun,' Sam commented when they broke apart.
Sheelagh arched an eyebrow. 'Which bit?'
'All of it actually,' she replied. 'Come on, you're exhausted. You need to get to bed.'
'Let's stay here a bit longer,' answered Sheelagh, holding her gaze. 'Please?'
Sam dropped another kiss onto her lips then settled back. 'Such a hardship.'