Love You Gone: A gripping psychological crime novel with an incredible twist

by Rona Halsall

  Mel stared at him, not knowing what to say. There was no explanation. Then a thought crept into her mind that made her legs weaken. Do they think there was some sort of incriminating evidence in there?

  ‘We need to ask you to come down to the station with us,’ Stevens said. ‘So we can have a more thorough chat.’

  ‘Am I under arrest?’ The inspector’s gaze was unnerving and Mel leaned against the worktop, her hands behind her back so they couldn’t see them shaking.

  ‘No, we just need to ask you some more questions.’

  ‘Well, ask them here.’ Mel swallowed, panic crushing her chest. She knew all about being interviewed by the police and how they twisted your words, made you flustered, catching it all on tape. No, she wasn’t going anywhere if she didn’t have to.

  ‘I need to get my colleagues involved, and we need to test this powder. So I’m afraid we can’t do it here.’ He gave her a look that she didn’t like, the sort of look you give to someone when you know things they don’t.

  Mel swallowed.

  Now it really begins.

  Thirty-Two

  Ted watched with interest as the police car headed out of the drive. Is that Mel in the back seat? Well, well, well. He wondered what she’d said, what they’d found, why they were suspicious. He smiled to himself. It looked like the plan was working.

  He knew they’d let her go. It may take a while, but they would. And in the meantime, his family in Wales was in danger. He rang Phil on his mobile number, having given him his own personal phone before he came away so they could talk without Fay and Ceri knowing. This was a job for the men, no need to worry Ma with anything, not with her mind being so fragile at the moment.

  ‘Have you done it?’ Ted asked.

  ‘Just finished, son. If the police turn up it’ll be fine now. Everything sorted.’

  ‘I don’t think it’ll be a thorough search or anything, so as long as everything has been moved, we should be fine. I know that Idris is on duty tonight and he’s not going to want to see us closed down. Not when his dad is so dependent on our products. So, no panic. But you never know. He might have to bring someone with him.’

  ‘Okay, son. You take care now.’

  Phil sounded quite perky, Ted thought. More upbeat than he had for some time, which was odd, given the seriousness of the situation. He wondered if he really knew what was going on and hoped for all their sakes that he’d followed instructions.

  Ted’s blood pressure was building, making his heart pound, and his ears ring. Calm down, he told himself. Getting worked up isn’t going to help you think straight, is it? There’s still work to be done.

  Thirty-Three

  Stevens opened the car door and guided Mel into the police station in Windermere, which looked like it might once have been a house, built of local slate and set back from the road. He showed her into a small, windowless interview room located at the back of the building, just big enough to fit a table and four plastic chairs. Mel wrinkled her nose as she sat, the smell of damp hanging in the air, a large patch of cream paint peeling off the wall in one corner.

  ‘I’ll just go and see if there’s any news, then I’ll be right back,’ Stevens said and left her, the door closing behind him with a heavy thunk, suggesting it was self-locking. Keep your cool, she counselled herself as her hands found each other and clasped themselves together. She looked round to see if there was a two-way mirror or CCTV, but there was nothing. Nobody was watching her and she allowed herself to relax a little and take some calming breaths.

  It was a good few years since she’d been interviewed in a police station, but those memories had been refreshed and now sent adrenaline racing round her body. She had to keep sharp, even though it had been an incredibly long day and all she wanted to do was succumb to sleep; wake up and find it had all been a dream. This is really happening, she told herself. You have to concentrate.

  She started by trying to work out what the police did and didn’t know. What else might they uncover that would show her in a bad light? She was just beginning to answer that question in her mind when the door opened and Stevens and Lockett walked in. Their faces were grim and Mel tensed, preparing herself for the worst.

  The sergeant was first to speak. ‘You’re not under arrest, Mrs Roberts. This is an… exchange of information, not a formal interview. Okay?’

  Mel nodded, relieved, because she’d been about to ask for her solicitor and that would have made her look guilty. She felt a little calmer, aware that if they’d had any evidence against her, she would have been cautioned. There was still the matter of the cocaine, but if she kept on denying any knowledge of it, she’d be fine. She steeled herself, told herself to be careful, just in case they tried to trick her.

  ‘I’ll just give you an update first,’ Stevens said. ‘We’ve had a few calls tonight and a couple of them have piqued our interest. The first one is a sighting of your family in a service station outside Dumfries on Friday.’ They both looked at her and she knew they were checking her body language, checking for little tells that this news would mean something to her.

  She frowned. ‘Dumfries? Are they sure it was them? I don’t see how they could be at a service station in Dumfries if the car is still in the drive? And it was Aberdeen where Luke lived before, nowhere near Dumfries. Aberdeen is where his contacts are.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t… It doesn’t seem very likely, does it?’

  ‘Well, we’re following it up and we’ll let you know if anything definite comes of it.’ The inspector paused for a moment before his next question and Mel made herself sit still, although her hands fidgeted under the table. There was something else, she could sense it, an uncomfortable feeling creeping up the back of her neck.

  ‘Mrs Roberts, some other information has come to light that we need to talk to you about.’ Mel met the inspector’s even gaze. ‘A former colleague of yours rang the helpline. One who worked with you at a nursing home in Leeds. A Mrs Eva Harding?’

  Mel gasped, her hands covering her mouth, unable to stop her body from responding. That bitch! That utter bitch!

  ‘Eva Harding?’ She looked at the police officers in turn, unable to keep the scorn from her voice. ‘You’re kidding me! You’re going to listen to her?’ Mel leant forwards. ‘That woman was nothing but trouble, always causing problems between the residents.’ She huffed in disgust. ‘Oh yes, she did it for fun. And you’re going to listen to what she has to say?’ Mel folded her arms across her chest and sat back in her chair, her mouth set in a tight line.

  Silence settled around them for a moment, before Lockett spoke. ‘We’re just trying to check out what we’ve been told. Perhaps you could tell us why you were let go from your job at the nursing home? We’d like to hear your version of events.’

  Both officers watched Mel’s every move. Truth or lie? They’re testing me. She swallowed as she prepared to speak, knew she had to tell the truth.

  ‘I was a manager at the nursing home for over ten years and there was never any trouble until I gave Eva Harding that job. She always had it in for me, trying to undermine me at every turn. In all honesty, I think it was a case of attack being the best form of defence for her, because she was not a good worker.’ Mel shook her head, lips pursed. ‘But it was hard to get staff, so I kept letting her off. Then there was a complaint about me, which got sent to the authorities. Who investigated.’ Mel wrapped a strand of hair round her finger and tugged, welcoming the discomfort as tears sprang to her eyes. ‘It was the worst time of my life and it was all down to that woman. A whistleblower. That’s what she called herself. A liar, I say, bending the truth to get herself out of trouble. I was about to sack her, but then her lies got me suspended and the new manager disregarded anything I ever did. Ten years of work unravelled in weeks and a year later the home went into administration.’

  ‘And what were her allegations?’

  ‘Oh, she claimed I was bullying patients.’ Mel threw up her hands. ‘They had dementia, for God�
��s sake. Weren’t even sure what planet they were on half the time. Of course I was firm with them. I had to be to keep them safe!’

  Lockett gave her that look again. ‘Mrs Harding said you were fired for trying to get terminally ill residents to leave money to the nursing home in their will. She didn’t mention bullying people with dementia.’

  Mel’s eyes widened before she caught hold of her shock and used it to her advantage. She sat back in her chair. ‘Where’s the proof? You can’t make allegations like that without proof.’ She tapped the table with a finger. ‘And I can tell you that there wasn’t any. Or there would have been a police investigation. And there wasn’t.’ Her chest was heaving as she worked herself up into a state of righteous indignation.

  ‘But you moved away?’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t stay in the area, could I? Not with accusations like that hanging over me. And I couldn’t get a reference. No, I decided I’d draw a line under the whole thing and start again. Do something a bit different. We always went to North Wales on family holidays, so it had a special place in my heart, and I’d had enough of living in a city, so I decided to go and live in Bangor.’

  ‘And that was six years ago.’

  Mel nodded. ‘Yes. It’s in the past and I really don’t see what it’s got to do with my family going missing.’

  The police officers looked at each other.

  ‘Right, Mrs Roberts, let’s move on to the matter of the powder we found in your make-up bag. It’s been tested and it’s definitely cocaine.’

  ‘It’s not mine.’ Mel enunciated every word and glared at them, eyes narrowed. ‘I told you. My husband has been dealing drugs. He must have put it there.’ She banged a fist on the table, her voice cracking. ‘Why aren’t you looking for my family instead of asking me these stupid questions? Why is nobody trying to find them?’

  Stevens glared back. ‘We are trying to find them. Our colleagues are working hard, following up leads. We just need to take your fingerprints for elimination purposes. And we’d ask you to stay locally for the time being. You may be interviewed again under caution about the cocaine when we have investigated further, so you might want to organise legal representation.’ He nodded to his sergeant. ‘Would you do the honours, please?’

  Mel sagged with relief in the knowledge that she’d done it. She’d got through the ordeal without anything negative happening and she was free to go. Her hands were shaking as the sergeant took her fingerprints, her emotions battered and bruised. But she was determined now to make the most of the opportunities that freedom gave her, determined to make sure that she came out of this with the upper hand.

  Thirty-Four

  Forty minutes later, Mel was dropped off at the house with a reminder that she should go nowhere because they would want to speak to her again. Her mind was numb after the turn of events. I might be charged with possession of cocaine! That would be her business ruined. She sniffed back furious tears as she dug the key out of her handbag and let herself into the house.

  It was chilly and unwelcoming, because she’d forgotten to stoke up the fire before she went to the police station, distracted by everything that was going on. She pressed her fingers to her temples, a headache pulsing behind her eyes.

  How has everything got so out of control?

  Is Luke playing games with me?

  He must have planted the cocaine. It was all so obvious now. He’d wanted her in prison so he could be free of her. She scowled, annoyed with herself for not finding the stuff before the house had been searched. So much for a new start. There she was thinking she’d got everything sorted out, and now this.

  She stomped into the kitchen and opened the fridge, got out a bottle of wine and popped the cork. She hesitated for a moment as she remembered the possibility of a child in her belly, then decided that the last thing she wanted to be was a single parent, told herself that it had been wishful thinking anyway and there was no point denying herself. Her life had gone to shit and what she needed right now was a drink. She poured herself a large one and gulped it down, quickly filling the glass again. She leant against the worktop, her glass hugged to her chest, and shivered.

  It’s a nightmare. A fucking nightmare.

  She thought about the note.

  When did Luke leave? That was the question. Had he gone on Friday, the last time he was seen? Then she remembered the phone in the forest. Or Saturday, then?

  That’s when she’d originally been planning to get to the holiday cottage. Saturday night. But the event had finished late, she’d stayed behind for drinks and Chris, her client, had been very persuasive.

  She closed her eyes and pictured Chris, his dark hair, attractively speckled with grey, high cheekbones, straight nose and those beautiful grey eyes. He was suave and charming, and as a senior manager in her client’s company, was off limits in so many ways.

  ‘Go on, Mel,’ he’d said after their first drink at the end-of-day gathering. ‘Let’s have a bottle of champagne, celebrate success. You did brilliantly, getting everyone on board.’

  Mel was on a high, the event having gone so much better than she’d hoped – the tricky managers were now fully committed to the proposed restructuring. It had taken all her wiles, all her neurolinguistic programming skills to get them thinking straight, but now they were she was so happy she thought she might burst into song. Champagne? It was so tempting, but she had to get to the Lake District, having told Luke she’d be there that night. A feeling of dread had built in her chest as she imagined a grotty little cottage somewhere, and compared it to the comfort of the hotel.

  ‘I’m sorry, Chris. But I really should go.’ She hadn’t sounded very convincing, even to her own ears.

  ‘One little glass.’ He’d flagged down a passing waiter. ‘Go on. Please? You’re not going to make me drink it on my own, are you?’ He’d given her a gorgeous smile which lit up his face, his eyes twinkling a promise that she hardly dared to believe. He was a very persuasive man and every time she’d tried to say no to him, she ended up saying yes. In fact, over the three months that she’d known him, she’d said yes quite a lot. Which had been immensely enjoyable and not something she could bring herself to regret.

  She’d grinned at him. ‘Go on then. Just the one.’

  But there’s no such thing as just the one glass of champagne, is there? Well, there wasn’t that night. They’d finished the bottle and ordered another one, while the rest of the management team gradually drifted off to their homes, leaving the two of them alone.

  She hadn’t intended to, she told herself, but she’d ended up staying the night with him. It wasn’t the first time they’d slept together; in fact, it had become a regular occurrence over the last three months, even though each time she told herself it wouldn’t happen again. She’d justified it as being Luke’s fault for denying her and anyway, it was only sex. That night it was a delaying tactic as much as anything. Truth be told, she’d been dreading the holiday, because it was so far removed from the one she would have liked. In terms of sparking the relationship back to life, the flicker of hope had started to fizzle out as soon as Luke had described where they were going and what he had planned for them. She’d sent him a text message, telling him she’d been delayed, but if he’d lost his phone, he wouldn’t have received it.

  The police had that phone now, though, and would be reading everything on it. Her chest tightened. They’d find her messages, and then start asking all sorts of questions she didn’t want to answer. She took a big gulp of wine, enjoying the warmth that it spread down her throat and into her stomach. She wanted to be numb. Wanted this mess to go away.

  The jangling of her ringtone made her jump, and she snatched up her phone, checked the caller and let out a big sigh of relief.

  ‘Chris.’ Just the mention of his name made her hand gravitate towards her belly. She put her glass down and walked into the lounge.

  ‘Can you speak?’ His voice was rich and warm and wrapped itself around her like a cosy b
lanket.

  She sighed and settled herself in a chair, a hand to her forehead. ‘Oh, Chris, you wouldn’t believe what’s going on here.’

  ‘Is he playing up again? I can come and get you. You know that, don’t you? If he lays a finger—’

  ‘Calm down… sweetheart.’ The word felt right now, not presumptuous at all. He’d rung her, hadn’t he? And he’d called her that just yesterday. ‘He’s not going to hurt me. And anyway, I’m not sure your wife would approve if you dashed up here.’

  ‘She wouldn’t know.’ There was a heavy lacing of scorn in his voice. ‘She takes absolutely no notice of me, off playing tennis and bridge and whatever else she does with her time. Honestly, we hardly see each other.’

  Mel nodded to herself, a warm glow enveloping her heart and spreading through her body. Chris was a passionate man, like her in so many ways; it would kill him to be with a cold woman. An idea of an alternative future, a new beginning, started to build itself in her mind, brick by brick, faster and faster, like a time-lapse video.

  ‘I don’t like you being with him. You know that.’

  Mel smiled and wrapped her hair round her finger.

  ‘Look, Mel. I’ve been thinking. I know this is sudden, but we’ve known each other for a while now. I’ve always admired you and now we’ve… now that…’ He sighed. ‘I’m making a right hash of this. What I’m trying to say is… I don’t want you to think I’m using you in any way. Any way at all. Mel, I want it… us, to be real.’

  Mel’s heart started to race, his words fuelling its rapid beat.

  ‘Oh, Chris. I know you’re not using me. I know that.’

  She could hardly believe it. He’d been thinking along the same lines as her. He had! Soulmates, that’s what they were. Bloody identical. She allowed herself to fantasise for a moment, wonder what it might be like to share her life with someone who thought the same way. How much easier than constantly having to stand her ground and fight for what she thought was right. All the bloody time. Her body felt weary just thinking about it, the muscles in her shoulders a little more tense.