“Because you can torment me?” I teased. She pinched my toe.
“No!” she said before giving me a cheeky grin. “Because of the eye candy, obviously.”
“Well, now your interest in the gym makes more sense,” I laughed.
She batted at my leg. “Hey! I meant you, you idiot.”
“Somebody needs new glasses, then,” I said, grinning at her expression of mock-outrage.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she laughed, tackling me with kisses. “You take that back! Don’t insult my very good taste, Darren Mitchell!”
We messed around together for a while, and it felt like I hadn’t laughed that much in months. If I’d ever worried that it might be awkward when we saw each other again, one morning in her company set me right. We fell back into our routines together like we’d never been apart, and it felt like a puzzle piece slotting back into place as we moved in sync around the kitchen together.
The gym was crowded when we arrived, but we managed to get a hold of some equipment and did a session mostly made up of callisthenics strength work. A tall bloke emerged from a door on the other side of the gym, giving me a wave when he saw me, and I waved back.
“Who’s that?” Sam asked. Her hair was back in a ponytail, and she looked sleek and collected, the pink flush on her cheeks the only evidence of the intense exercise.
“Self-defense instructor,” I said between pants, pushing my hair back off my forehead.
“It’s strange seeing you with short hair,” Sam said, tilting her head at me.
“Good strange or bad strange?”
She grinned and ruffled a hand over my head. “It’s cute.”
“Cute wasn’t quite what I was going for,” I said, batting her away with a fake scowl.
“No? Adorable, then? Sweet? Ba-”
I was about to respond to Sam and tease her back when a man called my name, and we both turned around. Brian stood there in his gym kit, looking at me with an expression that was both hopeful and slightly lost. His face was grazed on the side, and his foot was in a chunky white boot, so he must have broken his ankle in the scuffle the other night.
“Shouldn’t you be resting up at home?” I said in concern. Sam nudged me in the ribs and raised her eyebrows at me. “Oh, sorry. Brian, this is my girlfriend, Sam. Sam, this is Brian from self-defence.” I hesitated. “Unfortunately, we had to go and help Brian out last week.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sam said brightly. “And sorry you’ve had some trouble.”
“Good to meet you too,” Brian said, looking a little shy. He turned back to me to answer my question. “Henri was just running me through some of the manoeuvres again. Obviously, I can’t do most of them with this thing on,” he nodded towards his boot, “but I wanted to catch up.”
“Good idea,” I said sympathetically. No doubt being chased had really shaken him up, and this was his way of trying to find some control amidst the mayhem.
“Any… news about my dog?” he asked tentatively, glancing over at Sam like he wasn’t sure whether it was okay to ask in front of her.
I internally winced, trying to keep my expression. Brian looked at me with a guarded hopefulness, and I hated to shatter it.
“We’ve been looking, Brian, but nothing yet, I’m sorry. I promise we’ll let you know the minute we learn more.”
“Yeah, of course. Sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything, I- I just miss him, you know?”
“I know,” I said gently before chewing my lip. I wasn’t sure whether to suggest another idea, but in the end, I did. “If you’ve got the spare funds, you could try putting up posters with a reward for him. It’s a long shot, but it could help.”
Brian looked relieved to have any sort of idea that he could act on.
“Yeah? How much should I offer? I just want him back. I don’t even care if it’s anonymous, and they don’t get punished.” He sent me an apologetic look at that, but I understood.
Sam drifted away to continue her workout as I talked Brian through the best way to go about it. After that, I helped him out to his car, and he thanked me repeatedly.
Brian and I looked up as Henri, the self-defence instructor, walked past us across the car park. He raised a hand to both of us, though I noticed that his gaze lingered on Brian for a long moment before he hurried away. When I turned back to Brian, I saw him blushing.
“He seems like a good guy,” I said casually as I smiled.
“What? Who?” Brian was clearly flustered, and I chuckled.
“Henri. You should ask him out.”
Brian coughed, blinking at me as his blush went even darker. “You think he likes me too?”
“Definitely. I’ll eat my socks if he doesn’t.”
Brian glanced down at my feet before wrinkling his nose, cracking me up. He held out his hand.
“It’s a bet,” he said, and I laughed, shaking his hand.
“Go and rest up, okay? Look after your ankle.”
“Okay, Dad,” Brian said, rolling his eyes at me.
“Hey, I’m not that old!” I protested, giving him a wave before I walked away.
My mood turned sombre as I headed back into the gym. Henri had been a good distraction, but I couldn’t forget the pain on Brian’s face over his missing dog. I could hardly bear to think of where Fido might be right now, especially after everything I’d seen at the dog fight. If the owners decided Fido was worth training, he might last long enough for us to find him, but if he was to be used as toss away bait for another dog, then we were probably already too late.
“Okay?” Sam asked with a slight frown when I returned to her side, kissing her on the side of her head and tasting salt.
“Aye,” I assured her.
I focused on the exercise and the loud, persistent thump of my heart rather than the thoughts swirling about inside my busy head, but they never really stopped. This weekend was for Sam and me, and I fully intended to make the most of it before she had to return to Kent. This was only a brief stay, and it’d be awhile yet before she was back for good, but I was more pleased than I could say to have her with me now. This was the reprieve I needed after the awful intensity of last night, but on Monday, it’d be back to work. By then, I’d be ready to knuckle back down so that we could wrap this case up for good.
Stephen greeted me with an exuberant smile when I saw him on Monday, and I rolled my eyes at him as I sat down.
“You knew about Sam coming up, huh?”
“Damn, anyone ever tell you that you should be a detective?” he laughed.
I shook my head at him. “You and Sam talking to each other scares me. You guys are too powerful together, and the world should be worried.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll only use our powers to organise surprises and gang up on you a little.”
“What did I do to deserve this betrayal?” I whined though I was smiling. I’d been deeply sorry to say goodbye to Sam last night, but Stephen’s easy banter soothed that hurt a little.
“Maybe if you actually used your phone like a normal person, we wouldn’t have to text,” he said. He looked unimpressed when I lifted my eyebrows at him in question. “Mate, you sent me a one-line text on Friday night, and that was it. How did it go? Were you worried? Are you okay?” He looked at me expectantly, and I blew out a breath.
“Ah.” I finger-combed my hair back before grabbing my newly filled coffee mug and standing up. “Well, I might as well fill you and the superintendent in at the same time, right? And Ross should probably hear it too if she’s free.”
I’d be sending both of them a written report, but that could take a few days to get done properly, so I thought they’d want a summarised version in the meantime. Rashford was busy for the moment, but she soon waved us in. She picked up the phone and put a call through to LACS almost as soon as we’d sat down, and then it was time for me to recant what had happened.
It took a good half-hour to cover everything and to answer everyone’s questions. I used my note
book to jog my memory, make sure I didn’t miss anything else. Rashford had already guessed that something had gone wrong with the recording equipment because I hadn’t sent it over to the station over the weekend, which I certainly would’ve done otherwise.
“That’s a real shame,” she said heavily when she heard that I had to dispose of it.
“There was no other way to-”
“No, no, you did the right thing. I’m glad you acted sensibly and didn’t compromise your safety, for once.”
The ‘for once’ stung a little, but I probably deserved it.
“I’ve got news for you, too,” Ross said once I was all done. I perked up.
“Aye? What’ve you got for us?”
“I’ve heard on the grapevine that there’s a big event being planned in Scotland. Bigger crowds, more fights. Fight of the year type of thing.”
“Crikey,” I muttered.
“How reliable is this intel? It sounds a little too tempting,” Stephen challenged.
The suspicion in his tone surprised me, but I’d seen the horror on his face as I’d described nearly getting caught out with the wire on me, and I knew he was just protective. I would’ve been the same with him if our positions had been reversed.
“It’s trustworthy. I’ve had only solid information from this source.”
“So they’re not an undercover LACS agent? They’re an outside source?” he persisted, frowning.
“Yes, they’re an external source, but they’re very reliable. I’d trust them.”
“That’s good since we’re trusting them with D- Mitchell’s life,” Stephen said with an edge of bitterness that surprised even me.
“We always do our best to verify our intelligence, DI Huxley,” Ross said. The fact that her voice had stayed even and collected throughout Stephen’s arguments reassured me. This wasn’t a person who rushed to rash decisions or let their emotions get in the way, and I appreciated that in anybody, but especially in someone I needed to be able to rely on.
“Thank you for telling us. We’re grateful,” Rashford said before Stephen could argue any further.
He shut his mouth with a click and didn’t look best pleased. I put a hand on his arm, and his shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh. He sent me a look that was laden with worry, and I tried to give him a reassuring smile.
Oddly enough, the prospect of attending this bigger dogfight in the Highlands wasn’t worrying me too badly. I’d be careful and make all the necessary preparations, of course, but I was so ready to get the evidence and shut down this operation for good that my determination left little space for nerves. Those young people who’d been serving drinks at the last fight needed me to keep my head together if I was to help both them and the abused dogs, and I resolved to do so.
“I’m afraid that’s about all we know, though,” Ross said, breaking into my train of thoughts.
“What… just that it’s happening?” I asked.
“Yes. We don’t have a confirmed date or location.”
Stephen bristled beside me, and I hid a wince. That certainly wasn’t helpful.
“Okay. I’ll talk to P- my contact, and see whether he knows anything. Please keep us updated on any news. If we can get the details for this event, I have every intention of attending.” I glanced at Rashford, anticipating possible resistance from her or Ross, or both.
“Wait, why can’t we do a raid of the place if we do get the location? Why does Darren have to be sent in there alone at all?” Stephen challenged.
I already had an answer, but I looked to Rashford to explain. Ross chipped in first, her voice steady over the phone line.
“This is a huge event. If we can find out where it’s happening, it’s crucial that we shut it down hard and get hold of as many of them as possible-”
“Yeah, of course, but why does-”
“Please allow me to finish, DI Huxley,” Ross said firmly. Rashford gave Stephen a glare, and he backed down with an apologetic expression.
“As I was saying, it’s very important we don’t let these people slip through our hands. A police raid would be ideal, and of course, we don’t like to put DCI Mitchell in danger. However, there’s an issue with that. The last event we sent a police raid to, the fighters were forewarned, and they scattered before the patrol cars could arrive. We estimate that we got perhaps ten per cent of the people who actually attended. It was a major setback.”
“There’s a leak in LACS?” Stephen said, looking shocked. He glanced over at me, seeming to be taken aback by my neutral expression. “Did you know?” he asked me.
I cleared my throat. “I guessed. LACS have had bad luck with their operations, and Freddie got badly hurt. I think they have someone on their staff passing information on, aye.”
“Well damn,” Stephen muttered.
“Hence, I’m in support of DCI Mitchell going in there. He can get the evidence we need before the police are sent in. Even if they’re alerted in advance again, what’s captured on DCI Mitchell’s cameras should be enough to get a fair portion of them even after they’ve run. It’d not perfect, of course, and I’m sure we’ll miss many of them, but it’s better than losing all of them.”
After a moment’s pause, I looked to Rashford for her confirmation. “So I’m good to go ahead on this, ma’am?”
Rashford nodded, and Ross made a noise of agreement down the phone.
“You did a good job with the last one, and they didn’t seem to suspect that anything was amiss with you, did they?” Ross said.
“No, nothing. As far as I could tell, they were completely sold on me being who I seemed to be. And my contact isn’t one to play games, so I have to think that he’s straight-up with me.”
“Good, that’s good. Well, we have no other candidates for attending the Scottish fight, so if we can get the details and the Scottish police agree to work with us, I’d support you going as long as you feel confident about attending. We don’t want a repeat of what happened to Freddie.”
“I’m confident,” I said, mostly convinced that I meant it. “How’s Freddie doing?”
We talked for a little while longer, passing information back and forth and sketching out a plan of action for the week ahead. Ross seemed more animated than she had when I’d talked to her previously. Maybe my success at the last fight had won her over somewhat since she seemed to have more trust in my abilities by now.
We still had a number of obstacles to overcome before I could drive up to Scotland and get this show on the road, but with us working as an efficient and effective team, I had the warming feeling that anything was possible.
When we were back at our desks, I pulled out my pad and made a note of what needed to be done before we could go ahead. The most important task was for me to talk to Phil to find out if he knew anything useful, but before I could figure out how best to approach that, my office phone rang.
“DCI Mitchell speaking.”
A DC I didn’t know introduced himself before continuing, “We’ve got a report on a stolen car being resold through a garage called Fraywood Motors. I was advised to let you know, sir.”
“Thanks for updating me. Please keep me in the loop with how that progresses.”
“Will do, sir,” the DC said before ringing off.
“What was that?” Stephen asked.
“More trouble for Phil,” I sighed, shaking my head. “He’s just like my dad, more ambition than sense. Even if we dropped this case now, I think he’d end up in jail, anyway. He’s too careless, too keen to expand without really knowing what he’s doing. It’s just a shame that he’s going to blame me for putting him away when this is over.”
Stephen was silent for a moment, and I knew he was struggling to know how to respond. He knew and respected that Phil had once been my best mate, but he couldn’t understand my having any lingering sympathy for the guy, however minute.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to desert,” I said dryly. It was meant to be a joke, but Stephen cast me a mildly
annoyed look.
“Obviously, I know that. I was trying to think of what to say, Mitch. You always knew that you couldn’t be friends with the man he is now, and he was going to find out about that. Even if you’d told him that you were a cop the minute you met again in the supermarket, he would’ve been upset and disappointed, right?”
“Aye, but it’ll be a lot worse now.”
“I know,” Stephen sighed. “But think how much you will have achieved by the end of this. Isn’t that worth it?”
“How much we’ll have achieved,” I corrected him before giving him a small smile. “And yeah, of course, it’s worth it.”
It would be more than worth it if I could get these dogfights shut down locally, as well as driving a crack into the dogfighting industry across the country. I sent Stephen over to Phil’s garage to supervise since Phil hadn’t met Stephen and wouldn’t recognise his face. I sensed that Stephen needed the change of scene, and I could do with having someone of Stephen’s expertise overseeing the DCs, though I didn’t really doubt their thoroughness.
Hewford trained its officers well.
Plus, I could do with spending some time alone to really focus on writing up my report on the dogfight, without any distractions to disrupt my memory. I wanted to be as accurate and thorough as possible. I knew too well that the biggest case could come down to the smallest details, and every little bit of information counted.
Twenty-Five
I sent off a text to Phil asking to meet up again after Stephen had headed off to go to the garage. I didn’t expect him to get back to me for a while, so I settled into writing up the report and starting on the pile of paperwork we had to get through. A strong mug of coffee helped see me through until Stephen returned, and I smiled to see him.
“Lunchtime, aye, mate?” he said, an obvious prompt that I was clearly overdue for a break.
I waved off his concern, but we did go to lunch together, sitting to eat on the low wall outside Hewford since it was a relatively mild day.
“It really feels like spring now.”
Moving Target (A DCI Thatcher Yorkshire Crimes Book 6) Page 28
