"Morning," Nick greeted with a smile as he stepped into Ashfordly station, fully prepared for the day ahead. He grinned when Phil stood up with a yawn and reached to grab his jacket, more than ready to clock off now that Nick had arrived. "Quiet night, was it?" Nick chuckled and looked at Alf, who was already prowling through his lunchbox and trying to decide the order to consume its contents. "I take that as a yes." Phil clapped him on the shoulder with a yawn-muffled goodbye and quickly shuffled out of the station before Blaketon appeared in the passageway. Nick straightened and turned to face him. "Morning, Sarge."

Blaketon looked at Alf, mildly grimacing as he seasoned one of his unshelled eggs before placing his full attention on Nick. "A word, Rowan." Nick smiled in amusement when Blaketon took one last glance at Alf with a sneer and left for his office. "When you've got time, Ventress! A tea would be nice!"

Nick followed the sergeant into his office and shut the door; he became slightly alarmed when Blaketon gestured for him to sit down, but his anxious thoughts were soon dispelled by Blaketon's next words. "As you well know, Gwyn Millar's estate has been ordered by the village council to tear it down."

Nick nodded. "Right, Sarge. Are they having second thoughts? Seems like a waste of a solid structural home if you ask me."

Blaketon scoffed lightly and raised an eyebrow. "I never expected you of all people to say that. In the market, are we?"

Nick chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, nothing like that. I'm just surprised they're so eager to tear it down. I would of thought someone like Lord Ashfordly would grasp the chance to cease ownership. It does sit on a large portion of unused land, Sarge."

Blaketon seemed impressed with Nick's theory. "Aye, but given the circumstances, he won't have owt to do wi' it."

"Understandable, I suppose."

Blaketon leaned forward, clasping his hands over the desk. "Which brings me to my point. As someone who was recently involved with that estate, they've requested your presence the day of the demolition. A witness type like. It's in two days at two in the afternoon, sharp."

Nick gave a smile of acceptance. "Alright, Sarge. I'll be there."

Blaketon's face fell serious for a moment. "On that front, I think it'd be a good idea to give it a sweep over on your next beat, make sure no daft beggars tryin' t'gander about the place."

Nick leant back in his chair. "And if I find anyone, Sarge? I can hardly do 'em for trespassing now that Mrs Millar is in prison."

"I'm sure you'll think of summat, Rowan. Yer can always threaten 'em wi' the cells since this is temporarily council property. I'm sure that's in t'book somewhere."

"What about squatters, Sarge?"

"Methods are already in place, lad, which is why you're t'patrol there until it's done." Before Nick stood up, Blaketon stopped him. "Listen. I know the severity of what went on in there, so officially, I can't make this an order."

Nick stared at the sergeant gratefully. "I appreciate that. I'm fine, Sarge. I'll do a sweep after my beat tonight."

Blaketon looked at him sternly. "No heroics, Rowan. Should there be trouble, you radio in, d'you hear?"

Nick stood up with a smile. "Yes, Sarge."

Once Nick was out of the office, his facial expression betrayed what he told Blaketon. He hoped to never set foot in that place again. Nick shook his head, muttering to himself to get a grip. Like Blaketon said, it would be torn down in a couple of days, and that was as close to closure as he would get.

…..

That night, much to Kate's protest of concern, Nick set off toward the estate after patrolling his usual beat in the village. He demounted his bike and clicked the torch to begin his sweep, trying to squash his anxiousness as much as possible. A thorough search of the place would see him until at least two in the morning, and he would have preferred to carry this out in daylight, but Nick figured that if anyone was to sneak inside, it wouldn't be during the day when they would likely be caught.

Crossing the estate grounds, Nick paid no mind to the eerie silence save for the occasional owl hooting, which he found nestled up in a large tree, almost feeling sorry for it, knowing it would have to move on soon should the tree be cut down with the house.

There was fencing and caution tape around the house, and a few of the first-floor windows had been boarded. Nick took a deep breath and entered the house; it was much the same as he remembered, and a shudder ran through him when he stepped through the large open hallway toward the basement where he found Janey. It was the first thing to check since it was such an obvious hiding place for someone who might have snuck in.

Anything had yet to be touched as he noted the décor and furniture still in place on his sweep of the sitting room. He wondered if all of this would go to auction; no doubt Gwyn Millar had obtained quite a number of valuables over the years. When he first met her, for someone in ownership of such a place, he had expected her to be well-spoken, and even more so now that he got the chance to examine the estate carefully. For a moment, Nick wondered if any of the items were obtained illegally until he remembered that she had been a respectable woman leading up to the tragic events, but then again, with how well she hid her true self, it certainly wouldn't surprise him if that were true.

Nick wasn't sure what he expected to find for someone who lived under his mother's scrutinising eyes and strict rules; Nigel's room was relatively normal. A single bed in the corner, a desk with several books strewn across it, and Nick couldn't help but scoff when he picked up 'the boy who cried wolf.' There were other children's books among them, and Nick noted they all seemed to have lessons or something to that effect: Goldilocks and the Three Bears, three little pigs, Henny Penny, and, a softer touch, the ugly duckling.

Looking around, one would assume that a child slept here, not a fully grown man, but Nick had learned that someone's state of mind couldn't take away their ways of understanding with heart, and Nigel was no exception.

Nick turned for the door, and before he shut it again, he commented softly, "Sleep tight, Nigel."

Despite its lack of homely feels, the estate was, by all accounts, a normal home, and Nick rebuked himself for his somewhat overactive imagination; what did he really expect to find anyway? He was only there to patrol and make sure no idiot decided the place was worth exploring for kicks. Nick understood Kate's concern and Blaketon's hesitancy to make it an order; the shock of what happened would cause anyone to clam up upon revisiting the place of said occurrence, but after rescuing Janey and seeing her happy again upon their only visit to her, it helped Nick recover and didn't deter his thoughts about the job.

Nick tiredly searched the rest of the estate upstairs, and just as he was about to finish up and sweep the last room, a small dark figure sprung from a small door. When Nick called out, he quickly noted the door belonged to a closet where towels were kept. As he chased the intruder, Nick berated himself since he hadn't thought to check there in such a small space that could barely fit a person, at least not a fully grown one. The intruder was a teenager at most and agile on his feet, giving Nick some opposition, but the constable wasn't about to let this one go too hastily. Nick jumped the last few steps and reached to grab the teen by the scruff; the runner panicked and turned to swiftly loosen the grip, evidently clocking Nick in the face just under his eye. Nick flinched but kept his grip, and the teen went into full panic, his voice giving signs of a male. "Alright," Nick tried to soothe, keeping his tone light and non-threatening. "I'm not here to hurt you." Nick did his best to avoid another possible black eye and pinned the boy's arms in a harmless grip. "Calm it." The boy seemed to respond, but when he looked back at Nick, his eyes widened, and Nick thought he might bolt again.

"Oh no! Please! Don't arrest me! I swear, I didn't know you were a copper!"

Nick soon realised the teen's concern and shook his head. "It's alright, son. I'm sure it was an accident. Now, I can see you're frightened, so if I let you go, maybe we can have a chat about why you're hanging around here, hm?" Nick slowly let him go, picked up his fallen torch, and they walked outside the manor toward his bike. Nick turned to him, shining the torch sidewards to see the boy more clearly. "Feel like telling me your name?" The teen edged away. "You don't wanna run, son. It won't do any good. I can sort this out with you, but if you run, there's not much I can do."

The teen wrapped his arms around himself. "Me name's Harry, Harry Carson."

Nick gave a small smile. "Hi, Harry. My name's PC Rowan. Nick, if you like." Nick paused to see if he would run, but the boy remained. "How old are you, Harry?"

"Fifteen."

Nick relaxed and leaned against his bike when Harry shuffled on his feet, looking nervous. "Wanna tell me why you were in there, Harry?" Harry's breathing picked up, and Nick held his hands up. "It's alright. I just wanna talk. Not here to make arrests of anyone I find here. I will have to issue a verbal warning, but that's about it."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "But I hit yer!" Harry raised a hand, gripping his hair in frustration. "I hit a bobby!"

Nick almost chuckled. "Well, yeah, you did, but I reckon it wasn't intentional. No one that I've run into freaked out quite like you did after giving me a thump or two." Harry seemed to smile at the joke. "No harm done, I suppose."

Harry grimaced. "If you say so, Mr Rowan."

Nick pulled a face. "That bad?"

Harry hunched his shoulders. "Seen worse, s'ppose."

Nick nodded with a light laugh. "Cheers." Feeling that Harry was calmer now, Nick gestured to the house. "Come on, let's have it."

Harry sighed. "You won't tell, will yer?"

Nick lightly pressed against his cheekbone with a wince. "That depends on what you tell me. Were you here to loot, Harry? Is that why you were afraid of who I was?"

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "No! It were nothin' like that! Honest! I just din't want me mam to find out like."

Nick tilted his head. "About what?"

Harry looked at the floor. "Well, it's me brother. He's missing."

Nick straightened. "Have you reported it?"

Harry shook his head frantically. "No! Me mam can't find out. She's away 'n' all. Left me wi' him for a bit like. I just turned me back for a second, and he were gone! I've been lookin' all over."

Nick looked toward the manor. "So when I chased after you and grabbed you….."

Harry shook his head guiltily. "Thought you were robbing….Were goin` ter call police…."

Nick chuckled. "I see."

Harry sighed and tried not to panic. "I'm right sorry, Mr Rowan…."

Nick laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's alright. It was partly my fault. I should have notified you when I gave chase."

Harry smiled. "Dun't do any good givin' robbers a tip off like."

Nick scoffed lightly. "Not always, no." He gestured to the pathway. "Come on."

Nick walked Harry down to the village green with his bike, where they were grateful for the extra light from the street lamps. "Harry, your mum will find out if we can't find Derek before she gets back."

Harry glanced at Nick desperately. "She comes home in two days. I were hopin' to find him before and she won't know owt about it."

Nick sighed and glanced around thoughtfully. "Look, I'll call in at your house tomorrow and take some details. See if we can find out where your little brother might of run off to."

Harry's smile brightened. "Thanks!"

Nick nodded. "Go on. Off you go."

Nick demounted his bike with a yawn. It was two thirty in the morning by the time he arrived at the police house. He shuffled through the door quietly, thinking Kate was probably asleep, but when he saw the glow from the sitting room, he realised she had waited up for him, no surprise there. "Thought you'd gone off to bed, love." He took off his great coat and slid off his boots before walking toward her, scootching across the sofa to embrace her.

Kate seemed to sigh in relief. "I couldn't sleep. I was worried." She reached up and wrapped her arms around him. Nick returned the embrace but hissed slightly when her shoulder touched what was no doubt a forming bruise. Kate pulled back and soon got a good look at him. "What happened?"

Nick smiled sheepishly. "Found someone in the manor."

Kate immediately shifted into doctor mode and gently pressed her fingers around the eye socket. "A robber?" she asked with concern.

Nick shook his head. "Nah, nothing like that. Was a kid, really, a young teenager. Ow…" Nick flinched back slightly when Kate's thumb pressed too hard, and she tried not to laugh while apologising. "Anyway, his brother is missing and that's why he was there. I frightened him. He actually thought I was a robber. Should have seen his face when he thumped me incidentally."

Kate smiled sympathetically and led him into the kitchen before sitting him down and retrieving an icepack. "Here."

Nick took it somewhat embarrassingly but was grateful all the same. "Thanks." Kate seated herself on his lap, coaxing Nick to wrap his free arm around her. "I said I'd call round to his house tomorrow, take some details."

Kate took the ice pack from him and placed it on the table to kiss him. "Until then, Nick Rowan, bed."

Nick smiled and returned the kiss. "No objections from me."

The two got ready for bed, and Kate had already settled into the sheets as Nick climbed in next to her. She turned to him and snuggled down as he pulled her close. "You know," Kate began. "There's talk of that place being cursed." She chuckled.

Nick clicked his tongue at her implications. "Halloween is three months away. Bit early for ghost stories."

Kate looked up at him with a grin. "In Aidensfield, it wouldn't surprise me if it was the talk of the village by tomorrow."

Nick grimaced. "Great." He wasn't looking forward to the assortment of questions and snarky comments concerning his unlucky predicament either.

"By `eck!" Alf gasped when Nick stepped into the room and hung his greatcoat up with his helmet. Nick turned to Alf, feigning surprise as though nothing was wrong.

"What?"

"That's a right shiner if I ever saw one."

Nick smiled ruefully, and hearing this, Phil turned in his chair to regard him carefully. "It's that noticeable?"

Alf waved a hand dismissively. "Bah. Bit of powder, and it'll be as good as new." Nick glared mockingly at the older man; he knew this would be the amusement of the day for his colleagues.

Nick scoffed. "I'm fine, by the way."

Phil grinned up at him. "Trouble in paradise?"

Nick looked down sharply. "Pull the other one, Phil."

Phil held his hands up. "Ay, it were a joke, honest." Phil noticed Nick's lack of enthusiasm today, and the guilt kicked in. "Sorry, Nick. Nothing by it like." Nick sighed and rolled his eyes before Phil turned back to Alf. "Yer hear about it though, ay? Violent women hitting on their spouses and the like." Alf regarded him with shame. "It's true, yer know."

Nick shook his head and sat down. "Say that in front of Kate, and she'll have your guts for garters."

Phil shrunk in his chair. "I apologised, din't I?" Nick and Alf shared an amused glance. Phil then caught sight of Blaketon coming from his office and gestured to the other two.

Nick turned immediately to his desk, and Alf butt out his cigarette while Phil looked busy on the typewriter.

"Ah, Rowan. All went well with the manor last night?"

Nick cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, Sarge."

Blaketon folded his arms. "No trouble, I presume?"

Nick jotted something down. "No, Sarge." He could hear Blaketon approaching and tried to act preoccupied, though his writing was nothing but squiggles on a blank slip.

"Then if it's not too much trouble, Rowan, would yer mind giving me your full attention!"

Phil and Alf shared an uneasy glance, but there was amusement in their eyes.

Nick slowly turned and looked up at the sergeant, smiling slightly before noticing the recognition on Blaketon's face.

Blaketon frowned and straightened. "Ventress!"

Nick glanced at Alf when the older man acknowledged his name. "Yes, Sarge?" Alf caught Nick's glance, noting the constable was pleading not to make jokes.

"Remind me of my words to PC Rowan before he left `ere last night!"

Nick leaned back with a worried glance up at Blaketon, though he was relieved that his sergeant didn't automatically think he'd been in a scuffle at the pub, given his usual beat.

"Um, you told him no heroics, Sarge."

Blaketon glared at Nick. "No heroics! Is that the way you remember it, Rowan!"

Nick shook his head and quickly dispelled any theories. "Sarge, it was an accident."

Blaketon stepped forward. "An accident…."

Nick nodded with a slight rueful smile. "I did find someone, but in the confusion when I caught him, he was pretty frightened, and his elbow caught my eye in the struggle. It was a kid, Sarge, looking for his little brother." Nick chuckled lightly.

Blaketon wasn't amused. "Nothing funny about this, Rowan."

"No, Sarge. I was laughing because the kid thought I was a robber and was gonna call the police."

"I see."

"The kid's fifteen, Sarge. It really was an accident, and he definitely showed the actions of one, which is more than I can say for most." Nick stood up. "In any case, we seem to have a missing kid on our hands. I told Harry, the boy I found, that I would see him today to see what I can do to help."

Blaketon kept his stern gaze. "You do that."

As Blaketon walked away, Nick called after him, and the sergeant turned slightly. "You weren't concerned that much, were you, Sarge?" Blaketon glared at Nick's small grin but decided to let it drop and turned to Phil.

Alf shook his head at Nick, wondering where his bravery came from so suddenly.

"And for your information, Bellamy, the only female capable of hitting on a spouse as you described, and I'd stake my pension on it, is sweaty Betty! That no good menacing woman would do away with any man with a shovel should they cross the wrong side of her."

Nick grimaced. "I can vouch for that, Sarge." He briefly brushed his fingers at the back of his head, remembering a past injury and looked sharply at Phil when the man caught on to his recollection. He moved to grab his helmet and greatcoat as Blaketon made his way to the office.

"Nick?"

Nick looked at Phil and sighed at his guilty face. "Already forgotten, Phil. Don't worry about it." Phil smiled, and Nick left to carry out his enquiries.

Phil looked back at Alf, who shook his head with the same dismay he gave Nick. "You're a deranged sorta fella," Alf commented before placing a cigarette in his mouth.