A/N: Thanks again everyone for reading and commenting. It's wonderful to hear what people think. And I'm really happy that people are following along Alec's journey. Day 12 of the investigation continues and Baxter makes a discovery…

CHAPTER 13

Hardy stopped by his office briefly, closing the door behind him. His heart was thudding in his chest, adding to the unease he was already experiencing. He sincerely wished he could do something unpleasant to Karen White. Baxter had warned him and sure enough, this woman had started digging around in his past. And she had dug deep. Hardy stood in the middle of his office, frozen by the memory of a cold November morning almost fourteen years ago. It was one of the darkest moments in his career, the only time he ever had to take someone's life. And as always when the images of that day surfaced, he asked himself, did he really have to, could there have been another way? He would never know the answer.

He shuddered and shook himself free of the eerie feelings. There was a tugging in his chest he couldn't ignore any longer. Luckily, Baxter had interpreted his state as a panic attack. His boss had not been that far off as anxiety certainly wasn't making his heart condition any better. Hardy plopped down at his desk and fished out his wallet to consult his medication list. He groaned at the complexity of the task but took all of the pills he needed to. Emily's warning words from the day before flickered through his mind. Maybe he should get off this case. There was too much at stake for him to botch things up because his dodgy heart wasn't cooperating. On the other hand, who would carry on the investigation? Tess would be the only one he trusted enough and capable to go through with it, but he wasn't sure if in the end she'd be able to solve it. Hell, for that matter he wasn't even sure if he was. Not enough evidence, only a gut feeling for a possible prime suspect and not many avenues left to pursue. Something had to happen as they were stuck.

A knock jolted him out of his thoughts. The door opened before he could say anything and in came DC Swenson. He glared at her and she shrank.

"Sorry, sir. Just wanted to let you know that Claire Ripley is in a room and ready for you. I've offered her a solicitor but she declined. She also insisted on only you being there with her."

Hardy frowned. That was an unusual request and it made him uncomfortable. After his last encounter with Claire, he'd rather not be alone with her. Besides, two officers should be present for an official statement.

"She said that? Of her own accord?" he asked while getting up.

DC Swenson nodded in affirmation. Hardy sighed. Maybe today Claire thought she was the cat who got to play. He was already exasperated, having no patience for the back and forth considering the circumstances.

"Fine. Get the AV guys to run the camera and tape. Can't have her make an official statement with only me in the room."

Swenson acknowledged his request with another silent nod. He held the door open for her and followed her to the interrogation suite. It seemed to take forever to set up the video, and his impatience had him pace up and down the hallway, hands firmly placed on his hips. When he got the go ahead from Swenson, he took a moment to clear his expression from everything besides stoic professionalism and walked into the room.

Today she didn't waste any time with niceties. Her claws came out quickly. "How dare you have me be picked up by uniformed police officers at work? You said you wouldn't force me to make a statement," she spat at him.

He took his time sitting down. Then he put the tape in the recorder and pressed the start button. "Ms. Ripley, I have to advise you that this conversation is being videotaped and audio recorded. For the sake of the tape, this is DI Alec Hardy taking an official written statement from Claire Ripley Ashworth. Time is 11:23 A.M. on April 26th 2012. Ms. Ripley has declined a solicitor and asked to be only questioned by DI Hardy without any other officers present." He eyed her while he was going through the motions and then turned his full attention to her.

"Ms. Ripley, I have to caution you. This is being recorded mostly to protect yourself as you requested to have only me present. This conversation will be transcribed and you will receive a copy for review before you'll be asked to sign."

He was being overly formal but he didn't want to take any chances with her. She glared at him and her eyes flicked to the camera over his head that was pointed at her.

"Why are you doing this? You could have asked and I would have come," she hissed, leaning across the table.

"You refused to make a written statement yesterday. We have some more questions and we really need you to make this official. You don't have to say anything and if you want to, you can have a solicitor present. I cannot force you to give a statement but I sure can arrest you for obstruction of a police investigation if you're not cooperating." It was a threat that in the end was not entirely legitimate but he was losing his patience. Maybe it was his overwhelming feeling of nausea due to the potpourri of his pills or maybe it was her need to play games, but he had a hard time keeping his temper in check.

She sat back and crossed her arms, looking defiant. Her lips were pressed shut. He leaned back as well, his fingers tapping on the table. He needed to choose his words wisely.

"Can you tell me once again your movements on the afternoon and evening of Saturday April 14th?" he prompted her. He didn't know if his threat fell on fruitful ground or if she simply chose to play along, but she relaxed and actually put a smile on her face. It dizzied him how quickly she switched her emotional palette.

"I left work at 4 P.M. and went straight home. Cate wanted me to do her hair for the wedding and that's what I did until around maybe six o'clock. Lee was working on the floor in the living room, we heard it through the walls. After I was done with Cate, I made dinner. Lee finished his work and took a shower. We ate, watched TV and went to bed around 10:30 or 11 o'clock."

"What did you have for dinner again?"

"Steak and potatoes with salad." Her answer came as quickly as it had the first time. Still didn't match what Lee had said. Hardy nodded, contemplating his next move. He chewed on his lower lip. He needed something to push her over the edge.

"You mentioned you wanted to stay in, have a quiet evening? When did you discuss this plan with your husband?" Ashworth had stated she asked him to go out but he was too tired. Claire claimed they both wanted to stay home. Hardy made an effort to be as neutral as possible, not indicating the discrepancies.

"We didn't really talk about it. We were both just too worn out." Her answer was short.

Hardy suppressed a grin. He leaned in on his chair, placing the palm of his hand on the table. "Your husband said you wanted to go out but he didn't and that's why you stayed home." He raised an eyebrow, a deliberate gesture to indicate his disbelief. Let her take in that information and see how she wiggles herself out of it, he thought.

She squinted her eyes and he could have sworn there was a glimpse of anger in there, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "I don't remember that conversation."

"Really? You seem to recall everything else rather well that evening, but you don't remember talking about going out for dinner? Lee was rather clear about it. So that doesn't match. Care to explain that?" he pushed on.

She hesitated only the briefest moment. "Maybe I mentioned something when I was asking him what he wanted for dinner. As I said, I don't remember."

"I see." He put a good measure of doubt in his voice. "Just for the record, if you should want to revise your statement at any point in time, you can always do that. In case your memory becomes clearer."

She shrugged. "I suppose so. Wouldn't really know why though."

"Could you elaborate more about what happened after dinner?"

"We watched telly, first 'BBC News' then 'The Voice'. We went to bed early, around 10:30 to 11 o'clock," she repeated her earlier story.

"What about next door? Did you hear anything that night coming from the Gillespie house?"

She started giving her answer but he wasn't really able to pay attention. His bum heart had chosen that very moment to betray him. It randomly skipped a few beats and left him with the familiar growing empty sensation in his chest. He looked at Claire and blinked. Her face was blurring in front of him. He sucked in some air and leaned forward, bracing himself on the table. Tugging turned into pain and he struggled to keep a straight face. With a big effort he tuned back into what she was saying.

"… heard them talk. There was TV also, I think."

"Anything else?"

"No, not really."

"Remember the last time you heard them?" he muttered under his breath. He was very well aware of the camera behind him. He couldn't afford to have an episode while being videotaped.

"Dunno. Maybe shortly before we went to bed, but I couldn't say for sure." He couldn't tell with his vision all fuzzy but she might have been squinting at him, a questioning look on her face. He hoped she didn't realize that there was something amiss about him.

"When was the last time you saw Pippa?" His words were slightly less breathless but he knew he needed to take his medication in order to stop this attack. He was going through the motions now to get down all the information she had given them before. Real questioning would have to wait for some other time. If he had not been so busy with trying to keep it together, he would have been furious at himself for this complete lapse in professionalism.

"She popped her head in when I did Cate's hair. Lisa might have just arrived at that time. I was almost done by then."

"Anything else you want to tell us?" he asked curtly. She shook her head.

"All right then. Interview terminated 11:41 A.M." He rather abruptly ended their conversation, desperate to get her out of the room before worse things could happen. "We'll get you the transcript for your review. I might have more questions. Please don't leave town in the interim. You may go now."

He knew he was being rude, but he really could care less at that point. She stood up and he stared after her when she left the room, feeling like an utter failure.

Baxter was watching Hardy interrogate Claire Ripley via the video feed. He had sent away the other officer wanting to be by himself. After his brief encounter with Hardy he was worried that something wasn't quite right beyond the panic attack Hardy had experienced. He'd rather be the sole witness if anything concerning were to happen.

He had come in at the tail end. The camera was trained at the woman, Hardy's back towards it. Having seen Hardy many times in this situation, he could immediately tell that things were off. Hardy was leaning forward on the table something he rarely did and his body seemed almost slumped. His questions were short and Baxter could have sworn he sounded out of breath, but that might have been distortion from the microphone.

The woman was being evasive and although Hardy tried a few angles she didn't give him much. Eventually Hardy ended the interview. He let the woman go with instructions not to leave town. He didn't walk her out but stayed seated. Baxter turned off the recording without his eyes ever leaving the monitor. Hardy's face was now turned to the camera and as soon as Baxter saw it he was on his feet all but running to the room. He looked like he was going to have a heart attack. Baxter's impression via the camera had not been wrong. Hardy's face was ashen, and he was struggling to breathe. He clawed at his chest and moaned with pain, face all scrunched up.

"Jesus, Hardy, you look like shit. What's going on with you?" Baxter waited for a response. Instead of saying anything his DI fumbled through his pockets, producing a blister pack with pills. He attempted to pop some out, his fingers trembling, having a hard time accomplishing their task. Baxter was about to grab the packet and help him, when Hardy finally managed to get out two and dry swallowed them. He slumped over, elbows resting on his knees, hands dangling down. His breathing was still labored.

"Alec, I'm calling an ambulance. You clearly are not well."

Baxter was pulling out his phone when his friend managed to say, "Please, don't. It'll pass."

"Don't be stupid. I'm not sitting here watching you have a heart attack, just because you're too stubborn."

"I'm not having a heart attack," Hardy slurred, his Scottish accent making things sound even worse.

"It sure looks like that to me," Baxter threw back at him while unlocking his screen. He was surprised how fast Hardy was on his feet, snatched away his phone and then collapsed onto the floor, panting.

Annoyed, Baxter stooped down, trying to wrangle the phone out of Hardy's hand. His grasp was iron-clad. "Ach for God's sake, Alec, don't be childish and give me my phone back."

"No," Alec breathed, pale as a ghost, still frowning with pain, clutching the phone to his chest. Baxter was ready to slap him in the face.

"Fine, I'll just call someone in then." He stood and turned towards the door. Hardy clambered to his feet and held him back. He seemed to breathe a tad easier and color was returning to his face.

"I'll be fine in a moment. Please, Ed." His eyes were pleading and Baxter gave in. He helped Hardy sit down again and pulled the other chair over so he could be next to his DI.

After a few more minutes Hardy seemed to have returned to normal, although Baxter very much questioned that lately this was anything but. He had seen him struggling one too many times now for it to be blamed upon lack of sleep or food or who knows what. This was a serious problem that Hardy apparently was taking medication for. Which was still lying on the table. They both saw the pills at the same time. Before Hardy could pocket them, Baxter snatched them from the table.

"Please, can I have it back?" Hardy sounded distressed. Baxter looked at the packet. To his surprise he knew the drug. His wife's blood pressure was high and she took the same pills. Whatever stunt Hardy had just pulled, it sure didn't look like a blood pressure problem though.

"Care to explain yourself? Or are you going to tell me again this is a stomach bug?" Baxter prompted angrily, tapping the silvery plastic on the table.

Hardy was silent, staring at the pills. Then he sighed and dragged his hands over his face. Baxter slid the packet over to him. Hardy wasn't fast enough, his hands still trembling, and it slid down to the ground. He didn't pick it up. Instead he spoke, voice low and weaker than even minutes before.

"Would you mind picking them up for me? I'm too dizzy, might fall over."

Baxter's eyebrow went up but he refrained from saying anything, hoping Hardy would just continue. He bent down, picked up the packet and handed it to Hardy who shoved it in his pocket.

"I'm having some health issues," Hardy confessed reluctantly.

"No shit, Alec. You've got to give me a bit more than that," Baxter snarled. Hardy flinched. "You're taking prescription medication for high blood pressure but whatever your little spell was that you just had, that wasn't a blood pressure thing. I'm asking you for the last time to tell me what's going on or I'm going to send you to the CMO and suspend you immediately."

That got Hardy's attention. "You can't do that. Who's going to finish this case then?"

"Forget about the fucking case, Alec. I would say your health is more important than that," Baxter threw at him, exasperation growing by the second. Hardy stared at him, eyes glazed over. Then he shuddered, blinked a few times and finally focused on him.

"I'm taking care of it. No need to suspend me," he grumbled.

Baxter huffed. "It doesn't look like that to me. Every day you look worse and just now you barely made it through this interrogation. I thought you were having a heart attack, Alec. I came running because I was really worried." His words were soft now, full of the concern that he was feeling for his friend.

"It wasn't a heart attack." Hardy squirmed on his seat. This was worse than pulling teeth. Baxter wanted to shake the truth out of him so badly. Unconsciously he moved closer.

"So…?" he prompted, leaning in, now almost touching Hardy's knees.

"I really don't want to talk about it." Hardy folded his arms and gave him a defiant look. Baxter had enough. He stood up.

"All right then. Suit yourself. You're suspended as of this moment until you see the CMO. I'll let you know when he can see you the earliest." He meant every single word of it, it wasn't an empty threat.

He was almost out the door, when Hardy spoke. "It's my heart. It… beats irregularly at times. Like when I get stressed or exert myself." His quiet words came slow and with a lot of hesitation.

Baxter halted. He was filing through his recent encounters with Hardy - the moment after the press conference the previous week where he thought Hardy was going to pass out, that time when he found him stumbling over his own feet in his office, the fatigue that he had noted and had worried him all along. And then another thought came to his mind. He turned around and faced Hardy, making sure he held his gaze.

"Did you pass out in the river? When you found Pippa? Is that why you almost drowned?"

Hardy paled. After a moment he nodded, silently, the horror of that day reflected in his wide hazel eyes.

"Oh, Alec. Why didn't you say something?" Baxter sighed and sat down again. Hardy just shook his head, mouth slightly open, the distress visible on his face. "You know you can always come to me and talk. What does Tess say about this?"

"She doesn't know." His words were muted and he studied his feet intently. Baxter couldn't believe his ears. On the other hand, it sounded very much like something the stubborn idiot would do. Still, he deserved to have sense talked into him.

"Alec, you have to tell her. You can't just keep this to yourself. What if you pass out or whatever happens when you have one of those moments and she doesn't even know what's going on?"

"It won't happen. I'm taking care of it. Just saw the doctor yesterday. I'm taking my medication and I'll be fine."

They glared at each other and they both knew that Hardy was lying and that Baxter was well aware of it. Baxter was sure that Hardy hadn't told him the full truth but he also had a sense that if he pressed him more now, Hardy might clamp up and he would lose his only chance to get to him. It eerily felt like interrogating a suspect, something he didn't like at all.

He squinted his eyes at his friend. Maybe there was something else he could do. "You know, my brother Martin is actually a cardiologist. Do you want me to call him so that he can give you his opinion?"

To his surprise, Hardy's lips curled up in a small smile. "Thanks, but no. I happen to have a very competent doctor. She knows how to…" He hesitated and his ears turned red when he continued, "Emily knows how to deal with me. I drive her insane though, I think, poor woman. She's gonna kick me out one of these days."

Baxter raised an eyebrow at this revelation. It appeared that Hardy actually liked his doctor. He had used her first name, something he never did. It made Baxter feel better to know that this physician had been able to establish a relationship with this closed off man. Maybe Hardy wasn't lying entirely and he was taking care of himself for once?

"Don't take me off the case. I know I've been tired, but I need to finish this. After that I'll take whatever break you want me to, but give me an opportunity to do right by the families. Please, Ed?" Hardy was basically begging him.

Baxter leaned back on his chair, studying Hardy. If he suspended him now, his wife would have to carry on the investigation as they couldn't bring in another DI that quickly. Tess was competent but she wasn't like her husband. She lacked the final touch of intuition and reasoning skills that made Hardy into such a brilliant detective. Hardy hadn't really let anything slip through even while struggling with his health and it was obvious how driven he was to solve the case. Maybe it was fair to let him go on, while keeping an extra close eye on him. He felt like he could justify his actions not only as a boss but also as a friend who was worried about Hardy's well-being. A voice coming from deep inside his conscience told him it was wrong what he was doing, but he chose to ignore it. For now.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Fine. I'll let you continue. But if I see anything else that concerns me, you're out. Don't make me regret this, do you hear me?" He felt like deja vu from a week ago after Hardy had almost drowned.

Hardy nodded. "Thanks, Ed. You won't. I promise."

Baxter was about to get ready to fight the battle to send Hardy home for the day, so he could rest after what had just happened, but he never got round to it. There was a knock at the door and DC Swenson walked in. Her face was beaming and she was hugging a folder to her chest.

"What?" Both men snapped at her at the same time. She flinched and hung her head.

"'M sorry, DC Swenson," Hardy said with a much softer voice than Baxter would have expected. Hardy was actually trying to be civil. "Did you need to tell us something?" he asked gently, diffusing the harsh welcome.

Her face brightened up and she handed him the folder. "I'm really sorry to interrupt, but you need to see this, sir. I know how much you dislike hair specimen and you always tell us they're useless, but look at this. It's a match, nuclear DNA, a true match with Lee Ashworth." She was back to beaming.

Hardy's eyes widened and his gaze flicked from Baxter to her and back. Then his whole face was smiling. It wasn't just his lips, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, dimples, everything. Baxter couldn't help himself but think how endearing it was that this gruff man could get so exalted over such simple news. Hardy browsed through the report until he found the spot. He tapped his fingers on it and his excitement was getting the better of him.

"Oi, this is brilliant, Swenson. Out-bloody-standing!" he exclaimed, eyes sparkling, all weariness gone. "Let's go get him in here for more questioning." He stood, ready to make his move, when there was the briefest moment of hesitation and a steadying grasp on the back of the chair. If Baxter hadn't had a heightened sense of alertness, it wouldn't have caught his attention. But now it sure did.

He stood as well and placed his hand on Hardy's arm, holding him back. "DI Hardy, let's send DS Henchard and Thompson to pick up the suspect." Hardy shot him a piercing glare and the question of 'what are you doing' was written all over his scowling face. Baxter turned to Swenson and smiled at her.

"Would you mind letting them know about the findings and that DI Hardy would like for them to go hunt down Lee Ashworth and bring him in for further interrogation? Thank you, DC Swenson," he ordered. She acknowledged his wish with a nod and was out the door.

As soon as she had left, Hardy spun around. "What the fuck are you doing, Ed?' He was livid.

"I can't have you pass out while apprehending a suspect. It's as simple as that. You seem to be still affected by this episode you had and I was about to send you home, when DC Swenson walked in on us. I'm willing to let you stay, considering the latest development, but I can't let you go out and run after a suspect." He saw Hardy open his mouth to protest, but he cut him off. "If I were you, I wouldn't say anything, but 'Yes, sir' right now. You're walking on thin ice and I might be running out of patience soon."

Hardy pressed his lips together. "Yes, sir," he growled, turned and left the room without another word. Baxter sighed. He was going to regret this, no matter what Hardy promised. The press was all over this and had already been digging around in Hardy's past. If they found out about his health problems it would be the end of his DI's career and possibly his own. It was the perfect shit storm waiting to blow up in their faces. He sighed again and left the room to hide in his office and bang his head against his desk.