A/N: Thank you everyone for sticking round and reading. Yet again, I have to acknowledge and thank my friend hazelmist for helping with the editing. Friday Day 13 continues and Alec's life is getting more complicated…
CHAPTER 16
Claire was pacing around the table in the interrogation room. Hardy was watching her for a few moments through the small window in the door, taking in her outward signs of agitation. He had made sure that the video tape was running as yet again she only wanted him there. He was getting tired of her games and he did his best to tone down his impatience. His success was questionable at best.
Hardy opened the door and as soon as she spotted him she walked up to him, not giving him a chance to properly position them at the table. She held him up right under the camera with no way for anything to be captured. Her hand came to rest on his arm and she trained her wide eyes on him.
"You said you would protect me. Does your word still stand?" she inquired in a hushed voice. He carefully brushed her hand away and stepped around her into the area that the camera could see, before he answered.
"If you feel threatened or not safe at home we can help you with shelter," he confirmed, not committing to anything further. He wanted to see what she came up with next. It was impossible for him to say why, but he didn't quite buy her distressed demeanor.
"He wasn't happy with his interview yesterday. He felt our stories didn't match up enough." Her eyes were downcast and she had finally taken a chair. Hardy sat down opposite her. He clasped his hands when he leaned forward.
"Is that so? And what made him feel like that? Is there something you would like to amend in your statement, Claire?" he prompted, deliberately letting his irritation seep into his voice.
Her eyes darted away quickly and back to him. She sucked on her lower lip, chewing on it for a while. Hardy was digging up all the patience that he could find which wasn't a lot. This day had already been stretching him thin and he had no tolerance for playing around. The awareness that this kind of attitude was what led to mistakes and shoddy police work was the only thing that kept him from losing it.
"He might have been mad at me for not remembering things correctly the way he remembered them." She was still chewing on her lip, but now she was squinting her eyes at him, taking him in very carefully. He sat up straight, keeping his face impassive, folding his arms across his chest.
"Claire, if there is something you would like to tell me, now would be a good time. I promise you we will help you to stay safe if there is any concern. Think about what happened. There is a twelve year old girl who was murdered, the other one is still missing. I know you don't have children, but maybe you can try to put yourself in the mothers' shoes for one moment. How would you feel?"
She stared at him, eyes even wider than before. When she leaned forward, one of her hands slid down the table and came to rest over her lower abdomen. A very telling gesture and Hardy made a mental note of it. He nodded at her encouragingly, raising his eyebrows.
"So, what is it going to be then, Claire?"
"There might be a reason why our stories don't match." She shifted in her chair, her eyes downcast.
Hardy sucked in some air. "Care to elaborate on that?"
She opened her mouth, but then bit down on her lip. He leaned forward, putting his hands on the table. "Claire, if you don't tell me what happened that night, I won't be able to protect you." His voice had grown soft and he held her gaze. Whatever her role was in this, if his suspicion was correct and she might be pregnant then she deserved at least his consideration of keeping her safe.
"Things might have been different that evening from what I told you before," she admitted reluctantly.
Hardy's heart skipped a few beats, followed by a much more rapid rate than before. He ignored it. There was no way he would let this opportunity slip away from him.
"How so?" He kept his tone as neutral as he could. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
"I don't wanna talk about it." There was defiance in her eyes which didn't sit well with Hardy. He hit his palm on the table. She flinched.
"Horseshit. Stop playing games with me. Why did you come, if not to talk about it? Just to fuck with me?" he shouted angrily. He couldn't help his reaction while he was scolding himself at the same time that he hadn't kept his cool. He was probably lucky if she didn't say anything as some solicitors would interpret his actions as witness intimidation.
"I can't. If he finds out that I came back, he'd be really upset," she tried to explain herself.
"Claire, I can protect you, if you tell me what happened that night." Add extortion to witness intimidation, he thought sardonically.
"When Lee said that I wanted to go out that night, he wasn't lying." She stopped and chewed on her lip again.
"So did you go out?" He had a hard time not letting the excitement seep in. If Ashworth didn't have an alibi, his involvement would suddenly be much more plausible even if they still didn't have any hard evidence. At least it made it possible.
Again, she shook her head. He had no idea if that was an answer to his question or if she just was done talking.
"Claire, I need to know. This is important. Did you go out that night? Were you not with your husband?" he insisted. She stared at him and then gave the tiniest nod ever. One time only, no verbal confirmation. Hardy sat back on his chair, breathing heavily. There was no way he would be able to use this in court. She needed to make an official statement. She moved to leave. He rushed to stand, lightheadedness almost sweeping him off his feet. He steadied himself on the chair and turned towards her, blurry vision denying him a clear picture of her expression.
"This is not going to work if you don't make an official statement, Claire." He blinked and could see her stern face more clearly.
"Not now. I have to leave. I need to be at work in time. If I'm not, he might find out." She was clutching her bag and looked scared.
"Can you come back later to make the statement?" The urgency was tangible in his voice.
"I don't know. I will see what I can do." With that she left the room quickly. He was too breathless to run after her but even if he had, she wouldn't have changed her mind. She was still playing with him, having caught the mouse and let it go again before what he hoped would be the final pounce. He would do anything to get her to officially drop Ashworth's alibi.
He was standing in the blind spot of the camera and used the opportunity to gag down some pills. The wall was a welcome aid until the vertigo finally subsided and his breathing was easier. He pushed himself off it and walked slowly to Baxter's office. Maybe they had enough to try and get an arrest warrant for Ashworth? The prospect of possibly getting somewhere with the case before he needed to have his procedure done was filling him with a hopeful feeling that had eluded him for the past days.
Baxter scrutinized his friend thoroughly. Hardy had trudged into his office and plopped on a chair without waiting for an invitation to sit. After the prior day's events Baxter might have been overly sensitive to his DI's demeanor and appearance, but he wasn't feeling very confident that the man wasn't going to fall over any moment.
"I want to try and get an arrest warrant for Lee Ashworth," Hardy opened the conversation, not bothering with niceties.
"Good morning to you, too." Hardy glared at him, then rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He didn't say a word. Baxter sighed. He should finally give up on teaching him manners. Hardy was a lost cause.
"Why do you think you'd be successful with that?" Baxter inquired leaning forward in his chair. In his opinion there wasn't enough to even start thinking about approaching the CPS to go after Ashworth.
"Claire Ripley, his wife, just came to speak to me. She implied that she wasn't with him that night after all. She's his alibi. So if she wasn't with him, he doesn't have one. Pippa liked him a lot, they had spent time together. She would have trusted him to come with him, I think. The hair we found on Pippa's pillow is Ashworth's, nuclear DNA, so a true match for once. His finger prints are all over the house including the girl's room although he says he has never been in her room. Still looking for DNA matches as well."
Hardy made his case, speech measured and methodical. There was less excitement in his voice than Baxter would have expected. Hardy was clearly tired and not his usual bouncy self when he was getting closer to solving a case. It worried Baxter deeply to see his friend like that.
"Did his wife make a written statement?" Without that it would be hard to get the warrant.
Hardy sighed and chewed on his lower lip. "Yes, but this information isn't part of it. She came this morning to tell me her husband wasn't happy with his interrogation yesterday. She indicated she doesn't feel safe, something she has done before. Then she was sort of dodgy around the fact that the night's events might not have been what she had stated before. She never said that she wasn't with him, just nodded yes to me asking. We have it on tape but it's not going to hold up."
Hardy glanced at him and they both knew he was right. "She left before I could get more out of her. I have a feeling she's going to come around but she's playing games with me. I had to promise her that we would protect her."
Baxter couldn't hide his annoyance. How could his most experienced officer get himself dragged into this? His voice wasn't hiding any of his feelings.
"Jesus, Hardy. You should know better than getting yourself sucked into something like that. If Ashworth indeed turns out to be our man, you can't be meddling with a potential key witness."
"So, you don't want me to offer protection then if she is worried he's going to go after her?" Hardy snapped at him, scowling. He was getting agitated. Baxter expected him to get up and pace as his habit was, but instead he just balled his hands into fists and was breathing heavily.
Baxter squinted at his pale face. Something was up and much to his own disgust, he caught himself thinking that he wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not. If Claire had latched onto Hardy, it might be difficult to get her to talk, if Hardy was out of the picture because of illness. The side in him that was Hardy's friend screamed at the police officer in him for being so calculating and ignoring his friend's well-being. It was at times like this when he really, really just wanted to bang his head against his desk and hide from the world. Why did it always have to be this complicated with Hardy? In the end, the friend won. He couldn't watch him like this, knowing that Hardy might be harming himself out of an exaggerated sense of commitment to his work.
"You all right?" Baxter asked, coming around his desk to rest a hand on Hardy's shoulder. Hardy shrugged it off vehemently.
"I'm not here to discuss any health issues I may or may not have. I'm here to talk about getting an arrest warrant for my prime suspect, sir," Hardy barked at him, emphasizing the title while his piercing eyes bore into Baxter's.
Baxter tried not to be offended, but it was hard. He cared about him and as always Hardy had trouble accepting the sentiment and not feeling exposed and vulnerable. Baxter was willing to let it go for the moment and to finish the discussion at hand. He sat down in the chair next to Hardy.
"Fine. I'll take it to CPS and see what I can do." Hardy looked relieved. Something bugged Baxter though. "What would be Ashworth's motive? They are going to ask that."
"To be honest with you, I have no idea. Why would anyone do such a thing? And then leave her in the river?" Hardy's eyes went dark and he pressed the heels of his hands against them. "Ashworth seemed to feel remorse over the fact that Pippa is dead and I actually believe him. Maybe it was an accident, maybe the girl threatened to say something assuming he did make a move on her. Maybe it had something to do with Lisa. We still don't have any idea what happened to her or how she fits into the picture." Hardy fell silent, lost somewhere in his train of thoughts. He dragged his hands over his face and stifled a yawn.
"Did you get any rest last night?" Baxter's voice was soft. Hardy lifted his gaze and stared back at him with those exhausted eyes that to Baxter seemed so alien in his face. He nodded and for a moment Baxter thought he was going to tell him more but then he pressed his lips together and stayed mute. He wished he could coax his friend out of his shell but he knew better than to be pushy.
"When are you seeing your doctor again?" Maybe that was safe enough ground.
"Next week," Hardy sighed. "Just talked to her today, changed my medications." Baxter was sure he wasn't telling him the full story.
"Hm. And do they know what's wrong with you?" Baxter had talked to his brother Martin last night to get a better idea what problems Hardy might be dealing with. Martin couldn't tell him much as there were too many possibilities, some of them sounding rather concerning. He would need more information. Baxter sure would have liked that too but his tight-lipped DI was a hard suspect to crack.
Hardy shot him another piercing glance. "Told you. My heart beat's off at times. That's what the pills are for."
On a whim, Baxter put out one of the things his brother had shared with him. Might as well see if he could throw Hardy off and get him out of his comfort zone. A tactic that worked with lying criminals, so why not with a notorious reclusive like his friend. "So, do you need a pacemaker then?"
For a split second, Baxter thought Hardy was going to pass out on him right there and then. Hardy sucked in a deep breath and clasped his hands, but not quick enough that Baxter didn't notice the tremble. Not such a sophisticated liar after all, DI Hardy, he thought. Baxter suppressed a pleased grin. He didn't really feel happy though. Hardy's reaction made him eternally worried about his friend.
"Erm… don't know for sure yet," Hardly mumbled, Scottish accent slurring his words. His pale face had turned bright red and he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. At least he had the decency to feel bad about his lie. Baxter left it at that, not wanting to push him over the edge. His memory of his daughter's struggle to come to terms with her life-threatening illness was still too vivid in his mind. He couldn't be harsh on his friend. He put his hand on Hardy's knee and leaned a bit closer, making sure that their eyes met.
"All right then. You don't have to tell me more, but if you want to talk, I'm always here. Anytime, anywhere. Just keep me in the loop. If you need time off, you can have it. Whenever, no questions asked. Let me know how I can help, as a friend or boss. Doesn't matter." He was sincere and he hoped that Hardy believed and trusted him enough. Hardy squirmed in his seat, rubbing his tongue over his teeth. Baxter wondered what it was that he was trying to get out.
"Do you… do you think I could get a uniformed officer to drive me around a bit if I need to go places?" His face was bright red now and he studied the floor intently.
Baxter was utterly bewildered. "Since when do you not want to drive?"
"Since I almost killed Daisy in the car this morning," Hardy blurted out. Hardy's head snapped up and Baxter knew immediately that Hardy had not wanted to reveal this information. Baxter was shocked. And then an intense fear started to build in his stomach. What if this wasn't one of the more manageable and somewhat more harmless diseases that his brother had told him about but something much more serious, life-threatening even?
"Alec, what are you not telling me?" Baxter asked calmly, forcing himself not to panic. He stared into Hardy's pale face and he saw his own fear mirrored in those wide hazel eyes. Hardy shook his head.
"I don't wanna talk about it, Ed. Not here, not now. I can't. Just let me do my job. Please, I need to finish this case." The desperation in Hardy's voice was painful.
"How can I let you do that if you're not telling me the truth, ey? How can I know that you're not being reckless with yourself? Wouldn't be the first time. You're such stubborn arse at times, I can't even…" Baxter trailed off, too upset to be able to finish without the excessive use of expletives.
Hardy sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. When he spoke, he sounded more composed than he looked. "You're right. How could you trust me? Don't have the best track record when it comes to taking care of myself. I am trying my best to keep it all together. I am taking my medication, I'm seeing my doctor and I will tell Tess about everything this weekend, I promise. And I may need to take some time off soon but not until this is finished, Ed. I'm not done here yet and we both know that it might not get done if I'm not around. All I'm asking from you is to have some faith in me, please?" Hardy begged him.
And Baxter would have been almost willing to go with it, if it hadn't been for Hardy's breathless words, his haggard and pale face and the dark circles under his eyes. He looked ill and there was no denying the truth.
"I can't Alec. When I look at you, I can tell that you're not well. I can tell how tired you are and that you're barely holding it together. I've witnessed several times where your body failed you and I can't ignore that. Not anymore. Not as a boss and certainly not as a friend. You shouldn't be working, you should be at home, resting and have this issue taken care of." Baxter was kind but firm.
Hardy looked up and fixed his eyes on him. Baxter shuddered. There was a bleakness in them that made him feel very unsettled.
"Ed, this might well be the last case that I ever work on. I pulled out that girl from the water and she haunts me. She was the same age as Daisy. How can I let her family down? How can I let her down? You're a father, put yourself in my shoes for one moment. If we can't solve this, if I can't solve this, I don't know what it will do to me. It's getting to me, Ed. I don't sleep anymore, I have nightmares with the dead girl and then she turns into Daisy and I just don't…" He choked up and abruptly stopped talking. He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Baxter was aching for his friend. Moving closer, he put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him tight until Hardy's head rested against his chest, a desperate attempt at comforting this man who was losing the battle to all the anguish he had been holding onto for the last weeks. Baxter had feared this might happen considering how more and more in the past months Hardy had been affected by the cases he had been working on. Hardy had told him in the past that dealing with a child murder might well be his worst nightmare and it sure looked like it now. The stress this put him under couldn't be good for whatever heart disease he had. Baxter's thoughts were racing, desperately trying to find a solution for this impossible situation.
He resorted to the most pragmatic approach. It was Friday. They wouldn't get the arrest warrant until Monday most likely as they didn't have enough evidence to press the issue. Maybe he could buy himself and Hardy some time over the weekend? If he sent Hardy home and let him rest, maybe he'd be in better shape by Monday and they could reassess the situation. It wasn't a solution but at least things – rather Hardy – could calm down for a couple of days until Baxter had more time to think it through.
"Alec, listen to me. What where you planning on doing with the rest of the day?" He let go of his friend. Hardy sucked in some air, wiped at his eyes and then stared straight ahead.
"Was going to talk to the Gillespies. I wanted to feel them out about Ashworth and his wife. Maybe we can find a motive," he muttered under his breath.
That didn't sound too strenuous, so maybe he could let him get away with it. "All right. This is what we're going to do. You question the Gillespies. After that, I want you to go home and rest over the weekend. Talk to Tess, straighten things out. When next week are you seeing your doctor again?"
"Monday, she wants to discuss some things." Hardy sounded rather vague about that, but Baxter was willing to let it slide.
"Good. You go see your doctor and when you come back to work, we'll talk more. We might have the warrant by then and maybe we can all tuck it in within the next few days anyways." It might be wishful thinking but he felt the need to give Hardy and himself something to hold on to.
"Ed, I'm sorry for…" Baxter interrupted before Hardy could get too embarrassed.
"Look, I didn't find the girl. But I am a father and this case is getting to me as well. I understand your need to see this through. But you have to understand that I have a responsibility to the families, to the public and not the least to you to make sure that this is done properly without causing further harm to anyone involved and that includes you as well. I'm not taking you off the case yet as we both know what's at stake, but I want to know everything you do and what your doctor says on Monday. I am serious when I tell you to take the weekend off. I'll cover for you, so don't worry and if there is something you really need to know, I promise I'll call you." Baxter put his hand on Hardy's shoulder again, underlining his words with the reassuring gesture.
Hardy looked defeated and he opened his mouth to say something, but then didn't, just shaking his head. He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, holding on tight to the back of his head, burying himself between his elbows.
"What do I do?" he breathed more to himself than anyone. He sounded so lost. Baxter's heart broke.
"Alec, I'm here for you. We'll get through this. Go do what you wanted to do today, then go home and rest over the weekend. Talk to Tess, spend time with Daisy. Focus on what's truly important, your family and your health. Everything else can be sorted out. You're not alone."
Hardy took in his words. Eventually he nodded and released his head form his tight grasp. When he looked up and thanked Baxter, there was a calm resolve in his face and Baxter allowed himself to feel some hope that he would be all right after all. Hardy clambered to his feet and without another word trudged out of his office just as slowly as he had walked in.
Once the door was closed, Baxter finally let go of a breath that felt as if he had been holding it for an eternity. He stared at the wall, not wanting to think further about the possibility that one of his best friends might suffer from a serious life-threatening illness. And the fact that he got himself talked into covering for him. If that should ever get out, not only Hardy's career was on the line, but his own as well. After a few minutes of agonizing failure to try and rationalize his actions, he gave up and accepted the fact that he made this decision because Hardy was his friend. Nothing else. And when it would come back to bite him in the rear at some day or other, he would stand by it, because that was what Alec Hardy would have done for him as well.
He sighed and picked up the phone to call the CPS office to request the warrant. Maybe this spook would be over soon enough. Baxter tried to ignore the nagging voice in his brain that kept telling him differently, that voice that gave him the eerie sensation that this case tainted everybody it touched. Hardy's talk about ghosts sure had rubbed off on him and he couldn't shake the feeling for the rest of the day.
Hardy hurried to leave the building, needing to escape the stifling air in the station. His face was burning and his head was throbbing. He had lost control. His illness had finally taken over and there was not much he could do about it. It made him furious and deeply frightened at the same time. Furious because he had let it get that far and frightened because it actually had gotten that far. Baxter had teased it out of him although he still hadn't told him about the planned procedure. It was surprising that his boss hadn't suspended him immediately and Hardy wondered how pathetic he must have been to convince Baxter to not take him off the case right away. Somewhere inside a tiny voice chanted its relief to be able to rest over the weekend, but he chose to ignore it.
He dreaded the conversation he needed to have with Tess. Considering how their interactions had been of late he could already hear her accusations and scolding remarks. Luckily she had long given up viewing him as perfect, so there was one less thing to be concerned about. He snorted at his own sarcasm. There was a sharp pain in his chest leaving him winded and he stopped abruptly, bracing himself against a lamp post.
"Talking a walk, inspector?"
His head snapped up. Karen White was the last person he wanted to see at this very moment.
"None of your business, Ms. White," he snarled at her, straightening up his aching body. She was wearing that smug grin of hers and studying him intently.
"Shouldn't you be questioning suspects or the like? Oh wait… you don't have any. Are you hoping to find them lined up in the street?" she went on, spreading her venom.
Hardy rolled his eyes. "That's a rather pathetic attempt at riling me up, even for you. If you think you can get me to talk by insulting me, you really have no idea who you're dealing with."
"Oh, I think I have a very good idea who I'm dealing with. I've seen all the files on the Carter case, DI Hardy. Do you always run around with your weapon half-cocked?"
Hardy froze. Karen White stared at him and her face showed how pleased she was with herself. If he didn't come up with a good answer, she would win. There wasn't a good one though. Not for that day, not ever.
"I don't carry a gun, Ms. White," he admitted quietly. "And I only did that day because we knew Carter was violent and dangerous. My superiors insisted. Believe me, I wish I hadn't." Maybe he had revealed too much, but he couldn't help himself.
"But you saved your wife's life, didn't you? And your unborn daughter's," she added. Hardy glared at her, pressing his lips together. He had already let her in way more than he ever should have. When he didn't say anything, she came closer and looked him straight in the eye.
"You know, I actually do have an idea of what kind of man you are. You would do anything to protect your family, even if it's unreasonable or reckless. And you would do anything to solve a case, especially a case like the murder of those two girls, no matter what the cost. Personal or professional. I'm quite sure it was you who dragged Pippa's body out of the water, my editor just won't let me write it as I can't prove it. But there are other things to write about, aren't there?"
Something inside Hardy broke. His tired mind and body couldn't fight her anymore. "Please don't do that. Don't write about what happened that day. My daughter doesn't know about it and she shouldn't. Even my wife only remembers half of what happened. I'll tell you what I can about the investigation, but please leave my family out of it."
He had yet again lost another battle and her broad smile made him want to throw up. "See, anything to protect your family. Let me buy you a cup of tea and we'll talk."
Beaten, he followed her. He knew he would regret this, but she had him cornered and he had no way out. His mind was frantically trying to come up with answers for her questions that she hadn't even posed yet. After picking up tea at the corner shop, they ended up on a bench in the nearby park. He was slowly twirling the cup in his hands. It was regular tea and he didn't dare to drink a sip.
"I'm not going to ask who your suspects are as I know you won't and can't tell me. I get that. But what I do want to know is if you've found anything that would bring you closer to an arrest," she began the interview.
He gave her a sideways glance. That wasn't so bad. He nodded. "Aye, we have some leads."
"I talked to Ricky Gillespie. He seems to not like his neighbors very much. Any chance they are involved?" She was scrutinizing his every move.
"I can't comment on that," Hardy replied, shaking his head. Good thing that years of being a skilled police interrogator made it easy for him to keep his face impassive.
"So why did you bring them in for questioning then?" she insisted.
"Routine interview of possible witnesses. They live next door," he answered carefully. If she printed any of her suspicions in the paper before they could get to Ashworth, they were done. His thoughts were racing how to best deter her from his prime suspect.
"And you want me to believe that?" She huffed. "I'm not an idiot, DI Hardy. You've brought in Lee Ashworth twice already and I believe his wife has come around a few times as well. That's more than routine."
Hardy turned and faced her. The more he would deny it, the more she would believe it to be true, no doubt. Maybe she had some integrity and he could appeal to her. It was worth a try. "Karen, you told me you want justice for these families. If you don't let us do our job without dragging things through your paper before we can confirm anything, then you certainly won't help anybody. I told you we are following some leads and I promise when we have more to report, I'll let you know first. But I can't disclose anything else without jeopardizing the investigation. Please, just leave it at that."
She held his gaze for a long time, not giving anything away in her expression. "Fine. You promise me the exclusive and I will tread lightly. But don't think for one second I won't come after you if you break your end of the deal." The threat wasn't even disguised.
"And you're going to leave my family alone?" There was the tiniest bit of anxiety in his voice and he hated himself for giving even that to her.
She shrugged. "Depends on my editor. He's got the final call. You can't have it both ways. Either the case or the human interest story. We've got to write about something." She was so nonchalant about it that Hardy knew she was lying.
"No you don't. You don't have to write about something that happened almost fifteen years ago and has no bearing on what's going on right now. You have a choice and if you want my cooperation, I hope you make the right one." He got up, throwing the untouched tea in the garbage can. "I think we're done here."
He walked away without looking back and just like last time he could feel her piercing stare between his shoulder blades. As soon as he was sure she couldn't see him, he pulled out his phone and texted Baxter that they might have a problem at hand. It didn't take long for his boss to call back.
"Hardy, why are you not home yet?" Baxter sounded annoyed.
"You told me to go question the Gillespies. Was on my way there when Karen White held me up."
There was a muttered curse at the other end. "What did she want? You didn't faint or something in front of her, did you?"
Hardy rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't. I'm not an invalid who falls over every time you look at him."
"Could have fooled me," Baxter mumbled.
"Ach, shut up already with the heart and listen to me, Ed," Hardy snapped back.
"Did you just tell me to shut up? Unbelievable. Should suspend you for insubordination."
Hardy groaned. Why couldn't he simply listen to what he had to say?
"Ed, she threatened to print that we are investigating the Ashworths. Did you get anywhere with the warrant?"
"Bloody hell. Not yet. The CPS is reviewing it but they are taking their sweet time, might not go through until Monday."
"Monday?" Hardy's pitch shifted up. "What do these people think this is about? Shop lifting?"
"Alec, don't get upset. It's a weak call anyways and you know that. We are lucky if we get anywhere," Baxter tried to appease him. Hardy knew he was right but still. It was infuriating because he was sure that Ashworth was guilty but he just couldn't get enough evidence together to prove it.
"Fine," he sighed. "I talked her into not printing anything about it. Yet."
"And how did you to that?" Baxter was more than suspicious.
"I might have promised her an exclusive when we know more," Hardy muttered under his breath, bracing himself for the bollocking.
"For God's sake, Hardy. Why would you do that? You're letting yourself getting sucked into her game and there is no doubt in my mind that you'll regret that," Baxter yelled at him.
"Ed, she has all the files from the Carter case and she's going to make a story of it. I had to give her something," Hardy shouted back, matching his boss' exasperation.
"Oh, and you think your promise of an exclusive will dissuade her from letting go of a juicy story like that? Are you really that gullible?" Baxter barked into the phone. Hardy flinched.
"No, I'm not but what else was I supposed to do?" Desperation was lacing his words.
Baxter didn't reply immediately. He took in a deep breath and let it out. Hardy was leaning against the wall of the parking garage, breathing equally as heavily. He fished out his pills and swallowed two. He was light headed again and didn't want to risk another serious attack.
"I guess you did what you could. Now we'll just have to see what this bloody journalist makes of it," Baxter sighed into the phone eventually. Hardy dragged a hand over his face.
"I'm sorry, Ed. I tried." He unsuccessfully attempted to hide the exhaustion in his voice.
It didn't go unnoticed. Baxter's voice was softer now. "You sound tired, Alec. Maybe you should go home and leave the Gillespies to Tess or Dave. I'm sure…"
"No. Absolutely not," Hardy interjected. "The two of them have talked to the Gillespies already and nothing came from it. I have to do this myself. I'll go there and then straight home."
When Baxter didn't say anything, Hardy pleaded, "Ed, please. I'll be fine. Don't take this away from me, I need to do this. I need to know that I didn't leave anything unturned."
"I don't want to hear anything else from you over the weekend. Go home after and do nothing, that's an order. Do you hear me?" Baxter growled, worry making his voice gravelly.
"Aye. I'll see you Monday then." Baxter snorted a goodbye and Hardy hung up. Time was running out and the sense of urgency was growing inside him.
He found PC Jensen and fed him a story about his car being in the shop, needing a driver for the day. Jensen was not pleased to play chauffeur for his ill-tempered boss but Hardy was civil enough during the ride. He was staring out the window letting his thoughts drift. They always came back to that dreary November morning when he shot Gregory Carter in order to save his pregnant wife's life. In front of Carter's eight year old son. The image of the blood spattered pale face of the wide eyed boy had burned itself into Hardy's memory just as much as Pippa's bloated face had. He shivered. Why did it always have to be children?