Kill Shot: A Cavendish & Walker Novel - Book 10

by Sally Rigby

  Kill Shot

  Sally Rigby

  Copyright © 2021 by Sally Rigby

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, organisations or places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, alive or dead, events or locals is almost entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Emma Mitchell of @ Creating Perfection.

  Cover Design by Stuart Bache of Books Covered

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Read more about Cavendish & Walker

  Read more about Sebastian Clifford

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  GET ANOTHER BOOK FOR FREE!

  To instantly receive the free novella, The Night Shift, featuring Whitney when she was a Detective Sergeant, ten years ago, sign up for Sally Rigby’s free author newsletter at www.sallyrigby.com

  Chapter 1

  Detective Chief Inspector Whitney Walker stared open-mouthed at her daughter Tiffany, not quite believing the words that she’d uttered.

  ‘Could you repeat that?’

  This couldn’t be happening. It was a joke. She’d misheard … anything … but not …

  ‘You’re going to be a granny.’

  Whitney glanced across at the forensic psychologist, Dr Georgina Cavendish, her friend and colleague, whose stunned expression replicated her own.

  ‘How?’ She diverted her attention back to her daughter and Lachlan, the boy she’d returned home with after a year travelling in Australia, having taken time out of university. Whitney hadn’t been ecstatic about her leaving, but knew Tiffany had to follow her own path.

  ‘I don’t think I need to spell that out, Mum,’ Tiffany said, as she exchanged a knowing glance with Lachlan and grinned.

  But Whitney couldn’t return the smile. This was going to change her daughter’s life forever. She was too young to tie herself down when there was so much more out there for her to experience and enjoy.

  ‘Didn’t you learn anything from my mistake?’ She rested her hands on the table, jagged breaths catching in her throat.

  ‘What are you saying? That you regret having me?’ Tiffany asked, her voice tinged with hurt.

  Whitney swung around to where her daughter was standing next to Lachlan. ‘Of course not. From the day you were born, you were the best thing in my life. But that doesn’t mean getting pregnant at such a young age was the right thing to do. Surely you must see that?’

  There had been so many obstacles for Whitney to overcome. But she’d never shared that with Tiffany. She didn’t want her growing up thinking that she was the cause of any problems.

  ‘I’m not seventeen. I know what I’m doing.’ She turned to Lachlan. ‘We know what we’re doing.’

  ‘Do you? Do you really? Then how did you let yourself get pregnant?’ She turned to Lachlan, who’d remained silent. ‘Have you told your parents?’

  ‘They’re cool about it,’ he said, shrugging.

  She glared at him, wanting to knock his laid-back, surfer-dude attitude into the middle of next week. Surely she couldn’t be the only one to see the awful mess this was? She also hated that his parents knew before she did.

  ‘What do you think, George?’ she said remembering her friend was standing close by.

  ‘It isn’t for me to comment. It’s a family issue.’

  A typical George remark.

  ‘You’re like family. Without you, Tiffany wouldn’t even be here,’ Whitney said, referring to the time George had been instrumental in saving her daughter’s life when she’d been kidnapped by a serial killer.

  ‘I’m leaving now so you can continue your discussion in private. Welcome home, Tiffany,’ George said as she made her way out of the kitchen.

  ‘What about the pizza?’ Whitney called out, glancing down at the box on the kitchen table which they’d brought home with them, unaware that Tiffany had returned. The front door slammed. ‘She doesn’t want any,’ she muttered returning her gaze to her daughter. ‘It looks like it’s just the three of us. I’ll get some plates.’

  ‘Not for me, thanks. We ate at the airport,’ Tiffany said.

  ‘I’ll have some,’ Lachlan said.

  Whitney pulled out two plates from the cupboard, using the time to try to relax. She wanted to come across as acting rationally, even though her insides were going crazy.

  ‘I can’t believe your reaction. I thought you’d be happy for us,’ Tiffany said as they all sat around the table.

  Was her daughter really that naïve?

  ‘My happiness doesn’t come into it. I know how hard it is for someone with their whole future ahead of them to be saddled with a child.’

  ‘Is that how you thought of me? That you were saddled.’

  Damn. She hadn’t meant to say that. Not least because it wasn’t true.

  ‘No. Look, we all loved you. Me, your granny, granddad, Uncle Rob. But that doesn’t change things. What you decide to do now is going to affect you forever.’ She looked at the boyfriend who was wolfing down his pizza, seeming totally oblivious to the conversation going on around him. ‘You do know this, don’t you, Lachlan?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ But his eyes told a different story.

  ‘So what are your plans? Are you going to live here with me?’

  She’d need to have a clear out in the spare bedroom if it was to become a nursery. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing. She’d been hoarding stuff in there for years.

  ‘Initially, if that’s all right, as we’ve got plenty of space,’ Tiffany said.

  Plenty was a slight exaggeration, but she’d rather they were here than anywhere else so she could keep an eye on things.

  ‘That’s fine. Have you thought about work?’

  ‘I’ll find a job,’ Lachlan said.

  ‘Have you got any qualifications?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ he said shrugging.

  ‘Can you be more specific?’

  ‘Mum,’ Tiffany interrupted. ‘This isn’t a police interview.’

  ‘It’s okay, babe,’ Lachlan said.

  Babe? Seriously?

  ‘Sorry. I was curious, that’s all,’ she said, trying to play it down. They were kids and had no idea of what it was like to be in the real world. But they would do soon
enough.

  ‘I dropped out of uni because I wanted to have more free time to enjoy myself,’ Lachlan said.

  ‘And you think this is going to give you more free time?’ She threw up both hands in despair.

  ‘It’ll be cool. We love each other.’ He leant across the table and placed his hand over Tiffany’s.

  Until the novelty wore off. But she wasn’t going to say that now. She’d already upset her daughter, which she hated doing.

  ‘Have you got any money?’ she asked, taking a more practical approach.

  ‘A little,’ Tiffany said. ‘There’s bound to be a bar job Lachlan can apply for and I can work until I have the baby. I’d get a bar job too, if it wasn’t for the fact that the smell of beer is turning my stomach at the moment. I’ll apply to work in a shop. You don’t need to worry, we’ll pay for ourselves.’

  ‘I’m your mum, of course I’m going to worry.’ Her eyes filled with tears, but she quickly looked down at her plate, not wanting Tiffany to see, and blinked them away.

  ‘Mum, I get that you don’t think this is ideal, but what’s the alternative? Surely you don’t want me to get rid of the baby. I could never do that. You didn’t.’

  Should she tell her the truth?

  ‘It was something I’d considered, and Granny and Granddad said it was my decision, and they’d stand by me, whatever I did.’

  ‘But you went ahead and had me.’

  ‘Yes, because I knew it was the right thing to do.’

  ‘And this is the right thing for me to do, too.’

  Whitney sighed. ‘I understand. You telling me like that was such a shock. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go off on one. You know, it’s not going to be easy.’

  ‘We’ll survive, just like you did. In fact, you more than survived, you made a huge success of your life. You’re my role model.’

  Whitney allowed herself a smile. Maybe she’d overreacted and it would be all right after all.

  Chapter 2

  Three months later

  Whitney stood in the doorway of the lounge and stared at her daughter, Tiffany, sitting on the sofa reading a magazine having just finished her breakfast, even though it was almost lunchtime. It seemed like only yesterday when Tiffany was a tiny baby and yet here she was, her hands resting on her heavily pregnant tummy, the baby due in only twelve weeks. It had been three months since the bombshell Tiffany and her now ex-boyfriend had dropped, and Whitney had finally got used to the idea of becoming a grandmother. Despite declaring in no uncertain terms that no way would she be called grandma, nanny, granny, or anything remotely similar as it would make her feel a lot older than her thirty-nine going on forty.

  Lachlan hadn’t stayed in Lenchester long, and after a few weeks, had returned home to Australia as he couldn’t get used to being in the UK. He didn’t give it much of a chance and had spent most of the time sitting on the sofa watching telly, moaning about how cold it was. Whitney had been glad to see him go, although she realised that even with support, which Tiffany would have in bucketloads from her, the enormity of having sole responsibility for another human being wasn’t going to be easy.

  ‘Can I get you anything?’ she asked.

  ‘No thanks, Mum. Come and sit with me.’ Tiffany patted the space next to her.

  Whitney wandered over and dropped down on the sofa.

  ‘How are you feeling today?’

  For the last few weeks the baby had been putting pressure on Tiffany’s sciatic nerve and had caused her a great deal of discomfort, especially when she’d been at work, as her job in a department store in the city had involved being on her feet for many hours at a time.

  ‘Okay, thanks. The pain isn’t so bad today, so hopefully the midwife was right when she said that it will go away of its own accord within a few weeks.’

  ‘Fingers crossed,’ Whitney said, rubbing her daughter’s leg. ‘Have you heard anything from Lachlan recently?’

  She hadn’t asked for a while because she didn’t want to upset Tiffany, but she was curious to know how it was going to work out.

  ‘No but I don’t mind. It was ridiculous of me to think we had something long-lasting. Once the reality of being stuck here in Lenchester hit him, being away from the ocean, the good weather, and his friends, he changed. I still like him as a person, but he wasn’t the settling down type, and it’s a good job I found out sooner rather than later.’

  Amen to that.

  Tiffany was strong, sensible and courageous and Whitney couldn’t be any more proud of the way she’d approached being pregnant and her plans for the future. She’d intended on working until the end of her pregnancy, but what with the morning sickness, which hadn’t eased and still lasted most of the day, and the sciatica, Whitney had suggested that she handed in her notice. Her last shift was the day before yesterday and they gave her a leaving present of a voucher to spend in the store. They’d also offered her a job after the baby was born if she wanted to go back.

  Whitney didn’t mind Tiffany not working, she’d rather her daughter rested, and it wasn’t like they were financially strapped for cash. They might not have as much money as George, but they had more than enough to cover all expenses and have some left over for non-essentials.

  ‘I’ll be here to help you with the baby every step of the way. Although I might leave the throwing up to you.’ Whitney could face most things, but the sounds and smells created by someone being sick, even a tiny baby, turned her stomach.

  ‘Oh.’ Tiffany gasped. ‘The baby’s just kicked. Feel it.’

  Whitney put a hand on her stomach as the baby moved again, warmth flooding through her. ‘I can’t wait to be your grandmother, little one,’ she whispered.

  ‘You don’t look old enough to be one.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, giving her daughter a hug. ‘I’ve got to admit I feel it sometimes. Just remember, you’re not facing this alone. I’ll be here for you whenever you need me.’

  ‘Apart from when work calls.’

  ‘Trust me, it will all fit in. I’ve done it before when I had you, and your grandparents were there to help.’

  Whitney’s dad had died twelve years ago, and her mum was in a care home because she had dementia, so they wouldn’t be around to pitch in, which Whitney was sad about. Whitney’s brother, Rob, was getting excited about the new baby. He too was in a care home after a savage attack when he was a teenager left him brain-damaged.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ Tiffany said.

  Whitney sucked in a breath. Was now a good time to, once again, broach the subject with Tiffany of her father, Martin?

  ‘I wanted to ask you about Martin. Have you decided yet whether you’d like to meet him?’

  When Tiffany had arrived back from Australia, Whitney had explained that she’d recently been in contact with her father. Tiffany took it well, but at the time wasn’t sure about getting to know him. Understandably, as Whitney had always maintained that at aged seventeen she’d had a drunken one-night stand with a waster. Tiffany had accepted the explanation without questioning her further. It was only when Whitney had met Martin at a school reunion that she realised what had actually happened was nothing like she’d played out in her mind over the last twenty-two years.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about it a lot, especially as I’ve got so much time on my hands. I think maybe I will, but not quite yet. I’ll let you know once I’m ready.’

  ‘He’s definitely keen for you to get together.’

  He hadn’t been pressuring Whitney, he wasn’t that type of man, but he’d made it clear he’d be willing to do whatever it took to connect with his daughter. For years he’d believed that he couldn’t father children, so when he’d learnt about Tiffany he was thrilled. Whitney had told him about the baby, and he was almost as excited as she was.

  ‘It’s been hard to come to terms with after all those years of not knowing who, or where, he was.’

  Whitney grimaced. ‘I know, and I’m sorry about that, but I genuinely thought it wa
s just a drunken night. What I hadn’t realised was that I’d given him a hard time and actually ignored him despite him wanting us to be together. It was all very complicated, as everything was at that age. But he would really like to see you and I’d like for you to get to know him. He’s a decent guy.’

  ‘It never bothered me before. I was happy with it being just you and me, Granny, Granddad and Uncle Rob. But now I’ve got this little lump,’ – she patted her stomach – ‘I feel differently about it. Obviously, I’m going to have to tell the baby about Lachlan when the time comes.’

  ‘He might want to come back over here once it’s been born.’

  ‘I doubt it. He seemed happy to get away from here. I’ll let him know after the birth, then he can decide if he wants to be a part of our lives.’

  ‘Well, whatever happens we’ll deal with it, and—’ Whitney’s phone rang and she glanced at the screen. It was work. ‘What now? Sorry, I’d better get this. So much for having a day off.’ An exasperated sigh escaped her lips.

  ‘No problem,’ Tiffany said, waving a hand. ‘I’m used to it.’

  ‘Walker?’

  ‘Guv, it’s Brian,’ DS Chapman, who’d recently joined the team, said. ‘We’ve just had notification that Ryan Armstrong has been found dead in the car park next to the snooker club he owns. Suspected shooting.’ Her heart sank. Not another murder. She’d scream if it turned out to be a serial killer, which seemed to be what usually happened in Lenchester. It was like they had a sign at the entrance of the city saying Serial Killers Welcome Here.