A/N: Thanks for reading and sticking around to follow Alec's 13 has more in stock for our favorite detective… A special shout out to hazelmist who thought she wouldn't be able to take a certain scene seriously after we've joked about it for so long, but then she read it… Thank you for all your support and enthusiasm, my friend. And as I know how much you liked this chapter this is FOR YOU HAZELMIST!

CHAPTER 17

Cate opened the door. Hardy hadn't seen her in a few days and he had trouble hiding the shock over her disheveled appearance. Her puffy, red-rimmed eyes were framed by dark circles and her hair was unkempt. From the look of her sweat pants and T-shirt she might have been wearing those for a while already. She let him in without saying a word. When she led him into the living room, it was clear that alcohol had become her new best friend. Several empty wine bottles were lined up on the floor and although it was early in the day, there was a glass waiting for her. She didn't hesitate to take another big swig and then sat down on the sofa, staring out the window.

It broke his heart to see her that way. Words of comfort didn't come to his mind and so he joined her in her silence until she finally spoke, slurring her speech.

"You know what the worst thing is? Every morning I wake up not remembering that she's gone and then when that moment comes where reality falls into place… it just hits me that I won't be able to hug her, talk to her, have her around, and I go through the same pain every morning, over and over again. The moment I realize that she's gone forever… it breaks me every time. I can't forget… believe me I've tried."

Hardy didn't need much convincing, considering her appearance. He didn't judge though. It was not his place and how could he anyways? This mother had lost her child to a violent crime for which they still hadn't found an explanation for or a guilty party. And even if they did, it wasn't going to bring her back as Cate had so aptly stated.

"I'm sorry, Cate." It sounded so hopelessly insufficient but what else was there to say. Tears were running down her cheeks.

"I miss her so much." She wiped her face and looked at him. "Do you have children, DI Hardy?"

Hoarsely, he replied, "Aye, a daughter." He wanted to look away but she followed his gaze with her wounded eyes.

"Can you imagine her not being around anymore?" Cate's quivering voice grated on his frayed nerves. He briefly closed his eyes only to be greeted by Pippa's ghost and another jolt of his heart.

"DI Hardy, what are you doing here?" Ricky's angry question saved him from having to answer. "Is he bothering you, Cate?"

She shook her head, not looking at Ricky. Hardy stood up, sensing that he wasn't really welcomed. He needed to talk to them though.

"Do you have any news? Because if you don't we're done answering questions," Ricky threw at him, stepping into Hardy's personal space.

"Christ, leave him alone. It's not like he did it, he's just trying to do his job," Cate muttered while she put the glass to her lips.

"If he was doing his job, then we would already have the killer behind bars," Ricky retorted. His blue eyes bore through Hardy who held his gaze without flinching. Hardy absorbed the pain that came with the angry glare. The sorrow he felt for this family was burning inside him and he was joining Ricky in his sentiment of frustration over his failings as a detective. He resisted the urge to be defensive. Nobody would be helped with excuses and sham explanations.

"Ricky, I came to talk to you and Cate about who Pippa spent her time with besides friends from school. You had mentioned your neighbors for example?" Hardy hoped the question wasn't too leading or giving away too much information.

Ricky squinted at him and Hardy noticed his expression change. It confused Hardy but before he was able to make sense of it, it was gone.

"Pippa liked Lee a lot. She kept going on and on about how much fun he was," Cate volunteered. "I think Lisa might have liked him too. I caught her a few times looking at him in a much more grown up way than I thought was appropriate."

"Did you ever notice Lee Ashworth making any moves on Lisa?" Hardy was curious. Throughout the whole investigation several people had hinted at Lisa being more than just casually interested. Ashworth himself vehemently denied any involvement with the teenager.

Cate shook her head but Hardy caught Ricky's face out of the corner of his eye. A furrow had etched itself in Ricky's forehead and his lips were downturned. Hardy turned his attention to Pippa's father.

"What about you? Did Lisa ever mention anything? Or did you observe anything concerning?" Hardy pried.

Ricky hesitated and eventually shook his head. For Hardy, the delay in response was more telling than words could have been. Either Lisa was into Ashworth or the other way round or maybe it was mutual. He just couldn't prove it, like everything else in this case.

"Claire said that she was doing your hair before going to the wedding. Do you remember where Pippa was at the time?"

Cate frowned. "I think she was upstairs. She might have come in briefly when Lisa came round but I didn't see much of either one of them that afternoon."

"Did Claire mention anything about what their evening plans were?" Hardy didn't expect her to remember but he felt like he should ask.

"What day was it again? Saturday? Claire always goes out Saturdays to hang out with her girlfriends. I went with her a couple of times. I think she might have said she had to hurry with the hair because she was meeting someone." Hardy's heart almost stopped. If that was the case then Ashworth's alibi was indeed built on shaky ground. Cate might have just given him enough leverage with Claire so he could get the truth out of her.

"Do you know when Lee came home that evening?" He might as well continue to see what else would surface.

"I heard him work on that floor he was redoing in his living room. Must have been while Claire was doing my hair. Don't recall the exact times though."

That matched what Claire had said. His eyes darted back and forth between the couple. They were not looking at each other and considering the fact that the death of a child often amplified marital issues he wasn't feeling very hopeful for their future. He berated himself for the cynicism. Who was he to judge their marriage from the brief glimpses he had gotten over the last two weeks? His gaze rested on Ricky who was still wearing a scowl.

"Your neighbors come to your house a lot. Is that correct?"

Ricky nodded. "Yes, they do. Lee has done a lot of handiwork around both places. I had him put in a door between the two yards."

Hardy let his eyes wander out the window. The two properties were only separated by a tall wooden fence. It struck him as a bit odd that there would be such an easy way to go back and forth.

"Why would you have him do that?" He realized he sounded more judgmental than he probably should.

Ricky pulled himself up to his full height. "Why not? We often have BBQs and dinners together, makes it more convenient." He paused and ran his hand through his hair. When he looked back up, Hardy thought he spotted a brief glimpse of guilt in his eyes. "Actually Pippa wanted it. She said it made it easier to go visit them which she liked to do a lot." Ricky fell silent, lost in his thoughts.

"Did either Claire or Lee have any reason to go upstairs in any of your bedrooms, including Pippa's?"

Their hesitation didn't escape Hardy's attention. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but he felt very strongly he was missing something. Ricky was the one who decided to answer.

"Lee has done some repairs in the master bathroom. Not sure if Pippa ever took him to her room. I think Claire might have been hanging out with Pippa upstairs. Why are you asking? Do you suspect that they are involved in any way?" Ricky's tone had changed. There was an anxious edge to it which Hardy had a difficult time placing.

Hardy shifted on his feet. His body was tense. Those were questions he'd rather not answer. Before he could say anything, Ricky continued.

"We shouldn't have been as trusting. Who knows what he could have done to her driving her around all the time?" he blurted out angrily.

"Ricky!" Cate snapped at her husband. "Why would you say that? We have no reason to believe that Lee or Claire would ever do anything bad to Pippa. They liked her and they're our friends."

"How do you know that? Pippa's gone and if it wasn't someone else's fault then who remains to be blamed? You? Me?" Ricky spat back at her. Cate pressed her lips together and Hardy thought she would let it go, but she didn't.

"Maybe we should be. We left them alone, by themselves. If we hadn't done that, they'd still be alive." Cate was shouting by now, her voice trembling with the anguish she must have over the guilt of leaving her child behind defenseless. Hardy was uncomfortable being caught in the middle of this argument. He filed away Ricky's suspicion of his neighbors and Cate's defense. He didn't think he would gain much more from questioning them while they were so caught up in their feelings of guilt and remorse over their own actions.

"Would you mind showing me that door?" Maybe he could tease out a bit more why Ricky wasn't convinced of the innocence of his tenants.

Ricky huffed, but he led the way outside. He pointed out where the door had been cut out of the fence and opened it for Hardy. There was nothing special about it beside the fact that it existed.

"If you don't mind, I'll have our forensics team come by and take another look."

"Suit yourself." Ricky was leaning against the fence and shot him a glance from below. "How do you do that?"

"How do you do what? Take another look?" Hardy was confused.

"No. How do you do your job? How can you put everything aside and live with what you know?" Ricky clarified quietly.

Hardy sucked in a deep breath and before his tired mind could restrain itself, the words escaped his mouth, "I can't."

Ricky's gaze whipped up and the two men stared at each other. It was Ricky who broke the silence.

"You said your daughter is the same age as Pippa, right?" Hardy nodded. It wasn't only that he didn't trust his voice, but also the fact that there was a sharp pain growing in his chest which left him winded.

"How would you feel if you left her behind and something happened to her? I should have never done that. I promised to keep her safe and I didn't. How am I gonna live with that?" Ricky scrubbed his face down. There was a moist glitter in his eyes. Hardy stepped up to him and placed a timid hand on his shoulder. He didn't know how to comfort this father who was so overcome by sorrow and guilt.

"I'm sorry, Ricky. I'm not in your situation, but I do have a daughter and my heart broke the day I found Pippa. I don't have any answers for you how you can live with what happened. But what I can get you answers for is the who and why. And I promise you I won't rest until that is accomplished."

Hardy could not have been more sincere and not for the first time in these two weeks he realized how meaningful these words really were. At least to him and Pippa's ghost.

Ricky shot him another sideways glance. "So Karen White is right then. You did pull Pippa out of the water." It was a quiet statement but it shook Hardy's world. His hand slipped off Ricky's shoulder to come to rest against the fence, bracing him against the ever growing lightheadedness. He didn't deny it, there was no use and he felt oddly obligated not to lie to Pippa's father.

"Thank you for doing that."

Hardy's heart skipped some beats. And some more. His eyelids drooped and he heavily fell against the fence. He felt Ricky's hand on his shoulder. Pull yourself together, Hardy. He opened his eyes and was greeted by Ricky's scowl again. This time it was concern though.

"Wow, mate. Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

And in a way he had, hadn't he? Pippa's father had no idea that it was his daughter though. He took in some heavy breaths and eventually he was able to talk.

"Sorry. Got this stomach bug and probably didn't drink enough fluids. Just got a bit lightheaded." He pushed himself off the fence and managed not to sway.

"You had me scared there for a moment, mate. Must be a pretty bad one, ey?" Ricky seemed to buy his lame excuse. "Let me get you some water." He walked back into the house and Hardy followed him slowly. His fingers were popping out his pills in his pocket and he managed to sneak them into his mouth before he was handed a glass. He drank it obediently, swallowing the bitter medicine.

"Thanks. I should get going," he muttered, turning towards the door.

"DI Hardy?" Ricky called him back. "I don't share Cate's perspective on Lee and Claire and I appreciate you taking all possibilities into consideration." His voice was low and sent a shiver down Hardy's spine. He nodded and closed the door behind him, shutting out the ever looming darkness that threatened to overcome him every time he stepped into their house.

Hardy had sent PC Jensen back to the station after he dropped him off at the house. The tight grip of the dreariness that had taken hold over him left him with a trapped feeling. Something he sure didn't want to bring home with him. He slid his phone back into his coat pocket and instead of calling a taxi cab he walked slowly away from the Gillespie house. His feet and mind wandered alike, with no particular aim, just wanting to escape.

The monotone streets and buildings of the middle class housing estate blended together and soon he lost track if he was going in circles or not. When he reached the edge he finally recognized where he was headed. He hesitated. The wind had picked up and it might rain soon. He shoved his hands in his pockets, brushing his coat back with his arms. The gusts tugged on the black cloth and he shivered in the cold. It was a cool day even for the end of April. The sun was half way down the horizon but it would still be light for a couple more hours.

He put one foot on the gravel path and then another. He stood for what seemed an eternity. The hairs on his back were sticking up and he turned around. There was nobody. He looked back to the houses with all their signs of life and happiness. And then he turned and walked towards the river.

When he finally reached the woods that were lining the river bank, every fiber in his body was protesting the strain it had been put under. He hadn't eaten much and felt uncomfortably warm. His chest ached and each breath seemed harder to take than the one before. In his doctor's eyes the three mile walk certainly would qualify as unnecessary exertion, but in his it didn't. He could not have gone home after his conversation with Ricky and Cate.

His feet had taken him down the same path he walked when he found Pippa. It was darker under the trees and clouds were obscuring the light even more. He paused, resting his hand on the smooth bark of a tall beech tree. The rays of the setting sun were filtering through the lush greens of the spring leaves, bathing the bluebells into patches of light and dark. The sea of flowers he had walked through less than a fortnight ago was wilting and most of the stems were now carrying drooping blossoms.

He hadn't come back to the river since that day. Only in his dreams. The bank was still a few hundred yards away but he could see the glistening water peeking through the woods. He straightened up and took a few more steps. And just like that day, rain drops started falling, making soft plopping noises on the leaves. They didn't reach him yet but he could feel water dripping down his hands. His arms were heavy from a weight he didn't seem to be able to let go of.

He stumbled through the flowers under the roof of the branches, catching his balance more than once on the trees. The closer he got to the water, the chillier his bones felt like they had when he had been lying on the riverbank. He wasn't sure if his ailing heart played tricks with his mind but he was sure someone was watching him, feeling the same eerie sensation at the nape of his neck as he had before. He jumped when a twig of shrubbery brushed against his leg, triggering a sudden memory of a hand reaching for him from the water.

The rain was getting heavier and when he reached the river, it was yet again forming a million craters in the gushing stream. He didn't know what had driven him to come back to this place, the place where his life changed forever, but Pippa's ghost was right there with him, he didn't even have to close his eyes. His hands were trembling and the rain mixed with the murky river water again, dripping hot off his long fingers. Slowly he was getting soaked while he stood and stared. He blinked away his tears. A choking sound escaped his throat and he felt water rushing down his throat, making him gag and cough. His mind was filled with one burning thought. He needed for it to stop, to let him out of the deathly claws his nightmare had him gripped in. When he finally caught his breath, he turned and ran. Or at least he tried to. All he could will his body to do was a fast stagger towards the illusory safety of the bluebell woods.

His heart was staggering just as much. His tired legs tripped over a root and gave out under him. He lurched forward, barely catching his fall against the silvery stem of one of the tall beech trees. His body thudded hard against the wood and a sudden emptiness in his chest heralded nothing good. While he slowly slid down the tree's trunk, clutching his chest, taking in what could very well be his last breaths, his thoughts were with his daughter and her gorgeous smile that she only gave him and no one else.

"'M sorry, darlin'," he breathed before the dark swallowed him amidst the wilting field of bluebells.

The musty scent of forest earth that had recently been rained on was pleasantly filling his senses. He took in a deep breath and savored the smell. He smiled over the distant memories of summer holidays and running through the woods as a boy. Those days of happiness and bliss seemed endless until the moment on the cliffs when they weren't anymore. The smile faded and he cringed with the image of his mother against the dark horizon and he turned to run away from it all. He stumbled and his eyes flew open with a gasp.

He was surrounded by the dark. The first thing his foggy mind processed was the grit and dirt scraping against his face. He tried lifting his head but was immediately greeted by a sharp pain in his neck, so he rested his cheek against the damp earth again. His eyes fell shut and the pain slowly ebbed away until only a dull ache remained. The ground beneath was cold and it seeped into his bones, draining all his strength. He wanted to get up but his weak limbs wouldn't let him. All he could do was roll over onto his back. More pain sparked through his numb and stiff body and a whimper escaped his throat.

Drizzly rain drops were falling on his face while he stared up into the night sky. The stars were obscured by the leaves of the trees and clouds above them. Slowly, his disorientation subsided and he began to remember where he was. Eventually, he was able to pick himself up and clamber to his knees. He was shaking in the cold night, completely soaked and frozen.

You're a moron, Hardy, he berated himself. What had possessed him to walk three miles to the place that would surely trigger uncomfortable memories? He didn't need to look far to answer that question. He scrubbed his stiff hands over his face, trying to wipe away the dirt. All he achieved was to more evenly distribute the smudges over his cool skin. He fished through his pockets for his phone. The screen was dead.

"Ach, for fuck's sake," he shouted into the night, yelling at no one but himself. The tree that had caught his fall earlier served again to steady him as he pulled himself up to his feet. His teeth were chattering and he was so cold. The moon light was just about strong enough to read the time on his watch, 9:48 P.M., hours after he had left the Gillespie house. He ignored the profoundly unsettling feeling that came with the realization that he had been out for that long. He also ignored the fact that he had passed out again and this time nobody found him. Instead he focused on the issue of how to get home or at least back to civilization. He highly doubted that he had another three mile walk in him after not even making it through the first one.

He remembered the narrow lane not too far from the river. This was a rather desolate area, not many people coming by and surely not at this hour of the night. He let go of the tree, testing his steadiness. It would have to do. By the time he reached the lane, he had only tripped four times over two roots, a small bush and a random branch. He didn't count the time when he stepped into a hole and fell flat on his face. Again. At least his clothes were already ruined, so it didn't really matter. He had run out of swear words and resorted to groaning only. To look on the bright side of things, his body was warming up a bit with his struggle to get back.

It took him a few minutes to decide which direction to walk on the lane. He couldn't risk getting even farther away from the town. Exhaustion was washing over him and the temptation to sit and go to sleep was strong. The rain had picked up again and was dripping off his hair, cold water trickling down the back of his neck and his spine. Slowly, he put one foot in front of the other, trudging along, driven by sheer stubbornness.

Finally someone found him. He had lost track of time and the cold was omnipresent in his mind and body. When the person dragged him into his car, he didn't care if he was about to get mugged, beaten or both. All that mattered was a place to sit that wasn't wet and the hot blowing air of the heater. He had the suspicion that the man had already asked him a few times where he lived or what his name was before it registered with his fatigued brain. He muttered an apology and gave him his address. As soon as the car started moving he drifted off.

Heavy hands shook him awake, jolting his strained heart into whatever abnormal rhythm du jour it chose to default to. It didn't faze him. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"Hey, mate! Is this your house?" the man all but shouted in his ear. Hardy's eyes snapped open. He blinked into the light, right when the door opened and silhouetted Tess against the bright doorway.

"Aye," he breathed and moved his stiff legs, forcing himself to climb out of the car. Tess had walked down half the driveway, cardigan wrapped tightly around her. He didn't need to see her face to know how furious she was.

"Ey, careful there," the man exclaimed, steadying him when lightheadedness made Hardy sway.

"'M all right," he mumbled, harnessing the last bit of energy he could dig up. "Thanks for the ride. Not everyone would have picked up a stranger." Hardy meant it.

The man snorted. "No offence, mate, but you didn't really look like a viable threat when I found you staggering through the night. You're lucky I was out that late and Sparky found you."

Hardy assumed Sparky was a dog. He had no recollection. "I guess I was then," he said and shook the man's hand. There was a pat on the shoulder and then the man left. They never exchanged names.

"Where have you been?" Tess voice was trembling with anger. "And where the fuck is your car?"

He wordlessly trudged by her, drawn by the promise of warmth and rest by the lit up door. She hurried after him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn to her. The light from inside the house hit his dirty face and Tess gasped.

"For fuck's sake, look at the state of you. What did you do to yourself, you bloody idiot?" Anger was now mixed with worry.

"Don't start, Tess," he growled, too exhausted for civilities.

"Don't start?" she echoed him. "Are you fucking insane? I was worried shitless. Nobody knows where you've been, not at the station, not at dispatch, nowhere. I even called the fucking hospital to make sure you weren't lying somewhere alone on a stretcher dying, you fuckwit. I was ready to send out some uniforms to search for you. And all you have to say for yourself is 'Don't start'. You're an arsehole, Alec, and that's all I'm going to say," she yelled and stormed into the house, slamming the door in his face. He sighed and rested his head against the wood. She was right, he was an arsehole for scaring her that much. It had been utterly irresponsible to go for that walk, yet he couldn't shake that eerie sensation of feeling compelled to return to the river.

His frozen fingers fumbled with the keys in the lock when she opened from the inside. Before she could walk away he grabbed her arm.

"'M sorry, love. You're right. I am an arse for not letting you know where I was. My phone died and…"

"I don't care if your phone died, Alec," she interrupted him. "I don't even care that you didn't tell me. What I do care about is the fact that you just wandered off somewhere and then got brought home, soaked and filthy, by some random stranger. Where the hell have you been? And why? Your odd behavior in the last few days is fucking worrying me." She pulled him inside and helped him out of his drenched coat and jacket.

"I… I went to the river," he confessed subdued. A shiver ran over his body and he hugged himself. His teeth were chattering again.

Tess stilled. When she lifted her gaze to meet his, her expression had changed. There was a softness and her eyes were sad, mirroring her smile. "Oh, Alec." Her hand came up to his cheek, wiping at the dirt with not much success. She took his hand and led him to the living room, gently pushing him down on the sofa. "Take off your wet clothes, I'll get you something to change into and some tea. You look like you're freezing." She tossed him a blanket and hurried out of the room.

Hardy peeled off everything, despite his protesting aching body. He popped two of his pills before Tess came back just for good measures. He'd have to catch up with his evening medications later. Then he wrapped himself in the blanket and leaned back on the sofa, eyes falling shut.

"Don't fall asleep down here again. You should go to bed." She handed him his pajama bottoms, together with underwear and one of his long sleeved thermal shirts. He gratefully slipped it over his cold body and snuggled into the blanket again. Tess sat down opposite him, putting down a mug with steaming tea for him.

"Alec, I think we need to talk," she said quietly.

He leaned forward and held onto the cup. He didn't look at her and nodded. The time had come, he couldn't hold back with his secrets any longer. He wished it didn't have to be right there and then as he was so exhausted that it was hard to even keep his eyes open. He took a sip and burned his tongue with the hot liquid. It helped to keep him awake.

"But not tonight," she added after a few silent moments. Hardy's gaze whipped up and found hers. Her blue eyes were moist and for the briefest of moments he thought he recognized that sadness again that had disturbed him so much a few days ago. It vanished with her smile.

"You're obviously exhausted. Nothing good's going to come from it if we talk now. Let me take you to bed. We'll have all day tomorrow." She stood and proffered her hand. He took it, pulling himself up, and let himself be led to their bedroom. Relief took away the last tension that had kept him upright and he fell on the covers like a dead man. She tucked him in and placed a timid kiss in his hair.

"Sweet dreams, Alec," she whispered while turning off the light. And with the burning hope that her wish would come true, that Pippa wouldn't haunt him once again, he fell asleep.