Just Keep Breathing

by GS Rhodes

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dinner was delicious. Once they’d sat down and started eating, it was as if the conversation Liz had with Greg never happened, something Kidd was certainly glad about. He didn’t like seeing his younger sister upset.

  They worked their way through the roast talking about the school reunion still. Kidd decided somewhere along the way that he would ask John if he wanted to go with him. Maybe it would be fun. But at least if it wasn’t, he would be able to get out of there pretty swiftly.

  They worked their way through the rest of the meal, Kidd and Zoe clearing up while Liz checked on the kids, the three of them drinking coffee and chatting until Liz could barely keep her eyes open.

  “I’m sorry,” she said through a yawn. “It’s barely nine o’clock and I’m yawning like I’ve pulled a full shift.”

  “You have pulled a full shift,” Kidd said. “Those kids are a handful.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Liz replied, downing the last of her coffee.

  There was a sound from the front door, all three of them freezing and turning in the direction of the hallway. Someone struggled to get their keys in the door and then quickly opened it, shivering as they stepped inside. Greg was home.

  They heard him kick his shoes off and head down the corridor towards the kitchen. When he turned into the dining room and saw them all sitting there, his face dropped a little. He’d obviously forgotten that tonight was happening, and Liz had decided not to remind him about it over the phone.

  Greg was a fine-looking man, tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair cropped close to his head, a little stubble around his jawline. He was in a shirt and a pair of smart trousers, his collar open, his tie hanging out of his pocket. Kidd knew that look. Someone who had been on shift all day and it had been so hard and tiring that you find yourself half undressed before you’ve even made it to the car. He looked absolutely beat. But there was something else, something in his face that Kidd couldn’t quite place…

  “Evening,” he said, his voice a little gruff. “I didn’t know we had company tonight.”

  “We planned it a couple of weeks ago,” Liz said quietly. “Remember? Just a little dinner party with Ben and Zoe, this is Zoe, DS Sanchez, they work together in the Met.”

  Zoe said her hellos, Kidd waved from where he was sitting. You couldn’t cut the tension in the room with a knife, you’d need something a heck of a lot sharper. A saw perhaps. Liz wasn’t happy, that much Kidd could see and he didn’t want to get in the way of anything.

  “Well,” Kidd said, standing from the table. “It’s getting late.”

  “Yeah,” Zoe said, quickly following his lead. “We’ve got to be in the office early tomorrow. Thanks so much for dinner, Liz.”

  Liz looked up and plastered a smile on her face, but Kidd could tell that she was playing the happy housewife. That Greg coming home had put a damper on what had been a very lovely evening.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” she said. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

  They said their goodbyes, Kidd promising that he’d be in touch with Liz later on in the week to check-in, Zoe promising they won’t leave it so long next time, and then they were out in the cold.

  Kidd wrapped his coat around himself, shoving his hands deep into the pockets. It was glacial. It was February, and it felt like this winter had gone on forever. If there was one thing Benjamin Kidd hated, it was the cold.

  “That was uncomfortable,” Zoe said as they walked towards her car. “Very uncomfortable.”

  Kidd nodded. “They’re obviously going through some stuff,” he said. “I think we did the right thing by getting out of there.”

  “I’ll say,” Zoe said. “So, I didn’t get a chance to ask, we managed to avoid the topic for the whole of dinner. How are things with you and John?”

  “Me and John?”

  “Yes, Ben, you and John,” Zoe said. “Don’t repeat things back at me to save time. What the heck is that?”

  Kidd laughed as they walked. “Things are good,” he said. “It’s early days and we’re not about to go booking a venue, but it’s nice. I’m happy.” He checked his phone. “He was at the Druid’s Head tonight with some friends. I might see if he’s still around.”

  Zoe widened her eyes at him. “Detective Inspector Benjamin Kidd staying out late on a school night,” she said. “People will talk.”

  “And I expect you to shut them up.”

  “Sure thing, boss,” she said with a wink. “It’s good to see you happy and before you say that you were happy before.” She’d obviously seen Kidd opening his mouth to retort. “I know you were, but now I’m seeing you happier and it’s nice.”

  “Thanks,” Kidd said.

  He walked Zoe to her car, bidding her goodnight before he started walking towards the middle of town and the Druid’s Head, the usual haunt for the team at Kingston Police Station. He wouldn’t stay for long, maybe stopping for one before heading home. He didn’t want to get in the way of John’s night.

  He got there in pretty good time, making his way to the front door to see John was stood in the window, laughing with a few of his friends. He was wearing a blue checked shirt, his hair, usually in a perfectly placed quiff had fallen a little bit forward, but he brushed it out of his face, still grinning at whatever had just been said.

  He looked like he was having a good time. A good enough time that Ben decided that maybe he would leave it for tonight and talk to him tomorrow. That was, until John saw him through the window. He smiled and beckoned Kidd inside. He shook his head.

  John made his way outside, not bothering to grab his jacket so the second he stepped into the cold, his hands made their way under his armpits for warmth. He tottered over to Kidd, all smiles, eyes sparkling even though it was dark. How did he do that?

  “I was hoping I’d see you,” John said, still smiling.

  “Were you?” Kidd replied. “That’s…that’s nice. I’m glad I came then.”

  “Are you coming in? As much as I’m enjoying standing out here talking to you, I’m freezing,” he said. “You can meet the gang if you want?”

  “The gang?” Kidd replied. “You sure you’re ready for me to meet the gang.”

  John shrugged. “If you want to.”

  Kidd smiled and looked back at the window at the people who were now staring out at him, the guy who’d dragged their friend away. He instantly felt guilty.

  “I actually came to invite you out tomorrow night,” Kidd said, stuffing his fingers down into his pockets, trying to ignore the sweat on his palms. “I’ve got a school reunion that I don’t want to go to, and I thought maybe we could go together. Well, it was DS Sanchez’s suggestion, she thought…” he trailed off. “And I agreed that…” He shook his head. “Do you want to come?”

  John was still smiling. He looked like a slightly more frozen version of the John McAdams that Kidd was enjoying getting to know, but he still looked incredibly handsome when he smiled. And that smile was all for Ben.

  “Sure thing,” he replied. “Lunch and an embarrassingly cringe school reunion, I am blessed.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t—”

  “I’m coming,” he said. “Now are you coming back inside with me?”

  Kidd looked around John again, the people in the window quickly readjusting themselves to go back to whatever it was they were now fake-talking about. He tried not to laugh.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Kidd said. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch, yeah?”

  “I’m working from home so I can take lunch pretty much whenever,” John replied. “So just let me know.”

  They stood there for a few seconds, a strange amount of distance between them that John eventually closed, planting a kiss on Ben’s cheek.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said quietly before turning back to the Druid’s and walking inside.

  Not wanting to see the reaction of his friends when John made it back to the table, DI Benjamin Kidd q
uickly walked away, starting back towards his house.

  He made his way out of Kingston’s Market Square, taking a shortcut down to the riverside. It was the long way around to get home, sure, but he wanted the walk to take in the night. It may have been glacial, but this was his favourite spot in the whole town, and even though there were the sounds of restaurants in the background, happy couples walking by, groups of friends heading out for drinks, he liked it here.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out, seeing he had a couple of missed calls from DCI Weaver and a message from John. He went to that first.

  JOHN: Hope you had a lovely evening, was nice to see you, however briefly. I’m looking forward to lunch tomorrow. And the reunion. Xx

  KIDD: Nice to see you too. One o’clock suit you? Xx

  The message came back through almost immediately, which made Kidd smile.

  JOHN: Perfect. I’ll see you then. Sleep tight. Xx

  You too xx

  Kidd found himself hesitating before listening to the messages from DCI Weaver. He was off duty now. He was trying to get better at the whole work-life balance thing, learning to switch off so he didn’t end up staying up half the night thinking about it.

  He’d been terrible at that before he ended up getting signed off with stress. But Weaver wouldn’t call unless it was urgent. It was almost like a change in the air around him. Something had happened, and he’d called Kidd because why? Because he needed someone to talk it over with? If he listened, he knew he wouldn’t sleep tonight.

  Before he could stop himself, he moved to switch off his phone when another message came through. One from a name he hadn’t seen in a very long time.

  Andrea Peyton.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Hello Ben,

  Long time no speak. I’m sorry it took me such a long time to get back to you. I wasn’t entirely sure what to say. The topic of Craig in our family is still a bit of a sore subject but you asking about him brought it all back.

  Kidd’s heart was in his mouth as he read it, every word running through his head at a hundred miles an hour.

  I hope you’re doing well. I know things must have been really difficult for you over the past two years as well. The family hasn’t had an easy time of it. I think a lot of them, my parents included, have just found it easier to assume that Craig is dead and won’t be coming back. I prefer not to think that way. I want my brother to still be out there.

  Kidd practically ran the rest of the way home. He wasn’t able to message back as clearly as he had wanted to, his thumbs absolutely frozen so he couldn’t get the words down.

  I want to know where he is too. More than anything in the world but I’m afraid with me you’re a little bit out of luck. I’ve kept looking when I can, but I keep coming up with dead ends no matter how hard I try.

  I thought I was getting somewhere not too long ago, someone on a forum somewhere claimed to have seen him when I posted his picture but it all came to nothing. Someone was even using his old photos from Facebook on a dating app, can you believe it? Why do people do that?

  He could barely get his keys in the door, his hands trembling as he tried to get them in the lock. When he managed it, he swung the door open with such force it crashed into the wall of the landing. He’d end up with a dent there, but he didn’t care.

  He locked the door behind him, kicking off his shoes, and barrelling upstairs. He turned on his laptop and opened up his messages, reading it all through one last time.

  But I do have one thing that I can share with you. It’s not a lot, and it might not be right, but it might help. I think it will. If nothing else, it will give you hope.

  All love,

  Andrea x

  Kidd scrolled down to the bottom of the message, to the attachment that Andrea had attached to the message. He opened it up and there it was as clear as day. Well, not nearly as clear as he would have liked but he would recognise that person in a crowd of thousands. He was so sure it was him.

  Craig Peyton was on a train station platform. It looked like Waterloo, but it could have been any of the London terminals. He couldn’t quite place it. But he was there on the platform.

  He looked down at the date of the CCTV. It was dated just shy of a year ago.

  Kidd sat back on the bed and stared off into the distance, his breath catching in his chest.

  He looked at the picture again, trying to make out details, features, anything that might give the person away as being Craig but it was so blurry. But it had to be him, hadn’t it? His sister had sent the picture over, so she must have thought the same.

  Craig Peyton was alive.

  Maybe.

  Possibly.

  He had to be.

  He looked at the picture again, very quickly losing his resolve. It could be anyone. He could feel the disappointment filling his chest like a balloon. For a moment, it had felt so certain. At first glance he was sure it was him and maybe it was, but he couldn’t be sure.

  He opened a reply to Andrea.

  Dear Andrea,

  Thank you so much for getting in touch I’m—

  Kidd’s phone started ringing and he answered it without looking.

  “Hello?”

  “Kidd!” DCI Weaver barked, his Scottish accent coming through hard enough to make Kidd nearly jump out of his skin.

  Shit, he thought. I should have checked who was calling first.

  “Yes, boss?” he replied, running a hand through his hair. How could he have been so stupid?

  “I’ve been trying to get you all night, where have you been?”

  “I was having dinner at my sister’s tonight,” Kidd replied. He could see his boss’s face in his mind, the brick of a man breathing heavy, absolutely panting about it. “Is something the matter?”

  “You could say that,” DCI Weaver said. “Have you checked my messages?

  “No, sir,” Kidd said. “I was going to check them in the morning, or when I got to work perhaps.”

  Kidd could hear DCI Weaver nodding down the phone. He was pacing, he could hear the swishing of whatever material he was wearing. He took a heavy breath, distorting the receiver.

  “Well, I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow then,” DCI Weaver said.

  DI Kidd stood up, joining DCI Weaver in pacing. “Sir, you’ve got me now, tell me what’s going on.”

  DCI Weaver let out a heavy sigh again. Whatever it was, there was no way that it could be worse than dealing with The Grinning Murders again. At least that’s what DI Kidd told himself. It couldn’t be, could it?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Kingston Police Station looked ominous that morning. Clouds were circling overhead, and Kidd didn’t want to walk inside, knowing exactly what it was that awaited him. It might not have felt as bad as The Grinning Murders, though when it came to crime there wasn’t really a sliding scale, but this time someone’s life was on the line. And having that weighing on your conscience is always quite a cross to bear.

  After talking to DCI Weaver, Ben had finished his message to Andrea before trying to get some shut-eye. It hadn’t come easy. His brain had been awake, already trying to figure out what he needed to do the following morning to get a jump on this. He’d even tried running that morning, down through town, along the riverside, attempting to clear his head as he pounded the pavement but it didn’t happen. There were two images in his head. Craig Peyton and the girl who had gone missing.

  “Good morning, DI Kidd,” Diane chirped from behind the front desk. Her eyes twinkled at him as she smiled, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun, everything about her welcoming him as she had done for pretty much every day of his career, an endlessly joyful human who was always there to help anybody in their time of need. “How was your evening?”

  Kidd laughed a little. “Something of a rollercoaster,” he said. “Never a dull moment. How about you?”

  “Fine, fine, fine,” she said. “Nothing out of the ordinary!”

  “Ha!” Kidd barked. “
Diane, you’re making me jealous.”

  “Hardly, dear!”

  “Oh, Diane, I would kill for a bit of ordinary,” Kidd said.

  She tutted at him and shook her head. “You wouldn’t have a clue what to do with yourself.”

  Kidd buzzed himself through the door and started down the same maze of familiar corridors he’d walked for most of his life. When he stepped inside the Incident Room, he was quickly greeted by three pairs of eyes before they switched back to what they’d been doing when he’d entered.

  DC Simon Powell was sitting on DC Janya Ravel’s desk, the two of them talking animatedly about something as Kidd approached. DC Powell was a child, at least as far as Kidd was concerned, fair-skinned, fair-haired, and a little chubby. He was also sinfully clumsy and Kidd was counting down the days before it cost them something in a case. DC Ravel was quite the opposite of Powell. She was self-assured, pretty straight-laced, and knew exactly what she was doing most of the time, which made Kidd’s life a heck of a lot easier.

  “Morning,”

  “Morning, boss,” they chorused.

  “We’ve got a case, I want you ready for briefing in—” He looked at the two of them, quickly realising he was missing something. “Where’s DC Campbell?”

  “Out, sir,” DC Ravel said. “Went to get breakfast.”

  “Christ,” Kidd replied. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  DC Ravel checked her watch. “Shouldn’t be too long, sir, but you know what he’s like.”

  Ben knew exactly what he was like, so he left them to it. He would brief them when he got back. Apart from this, Weaver wasn’t there yet with the information. So long as Campbell was back in time, he might save himself a bollocking from the boss.

  DS Sanchez was at her chaotic desk, papers piled up left and right, enough coffee cups to cover half of Brighton Beach. She nodded at Kidd as he walked past, but something in him caught her eye that morning, maybe it was the expression on his face, or the bags weighing heavily under his eyes. Whatever it was, it made her rise from her desk and follow Kidd over to his.