Also running now, I headed for Wilkes putting myself in-between both men.
“Get outta my way!” the young man yelled at several other mourners who had seen and pre-empted what he was about to do and blocked his way.
I turned and bundled Wilkes out the door, shoving him harder than I needed to when we got out to the concrete.
He stumbled, but unfortunately managed to stop himself tumbling down the steps. “What the hell are you doing?” he roared at me.
“Saving your bacon, you ungrateful little prick,” I hissed.
“That’s assault. You assaulted me.”
“Believe me, if I assaulted you, you wouldn’t be standing there whinging about it. Now, it looks as though you’re not welcome here, so do yourself a favour and leave.”
“I’m here to pay my respects. Jade was my girlfriend when all’s said and done.”
“If you set foot back in there, don’t expect me to save you from getting lynched. Now, if you’ve got any decency, you won’t make this day any harder for Jade’s family—just go.”
He scratched his head, took a few paces towards the doors again, where Joanna stood observing, threw his hands up, sucked in air over his teeth and stomped off towards the carpark.
The rest of the service went without a hitch.
I was glad to get home and decided to get a practice run in on my performance ready for Friday. Steve was coming for dinner and I wanted to be done by then.
Roy told me to practice in front of a mirror, but I hated seeing myself flouncing about pulling all manner of strange faces. While I admit to enjoying the actual performance on stage with the audience egging me on, the preparation was hell, and the heels weren’t helping matters at all. I found a new admiration for female performers and women in general—heels were murder on my feet and my back.
I put the shoes away, and any evidence of my upcoming performance just before Steve arrived laden down with takeaway bags. He was a welcome sight. I was starving and tucked into the Indian food with gusto.
I had to laugh at Steve. He was struggling with a simple korma while I shovelled a red hot vindaloo into my mouth.
His face was red and sweat ran down his forehead. “My gob is burning. I don’t know how you manage to eat that vindaloo.”
“The hotter the better for me,” I said in between bites of naan bread I was using to mop up some of the curry sauce.
“Your arse will be on fire in the morning.”
Steve could make me laugh so easily. His humour was on par with mine. “Behave yourself or I’ll dish it up for breakfast.”
He laughed too. “No chance.”
I put my fork down on the plate and rubbed my belly. “I’m stuffed up to the eyeballs.”
“Not surprising really. I’ve never seen somebody eat as much as you do and not gain weight.”
“If I carry on like this, I’ll be as fat as a pig. Unless that’s your plan?”
“You’ve rumbled me–dammit.” He smirked.
“Yeah, I know your game—turn me into a chunker so nobody else wants me.”
He leaned in to give me a quick peck on the lips. “That’s all you’re getting until you brush your teeth.”
“Cheek!” I pushed myself up, wanting to rinse the dishes and shove them in the dishwasher out of the way. “You’ll have to wait until I sort this mess out.”
“I’ll give you a hand.”
“No, it’s okay, you stay there. It won’t take me long.” I stacked the plates and picked them up. “You can decide what we’re going to watch.”
“Oh, don’t leave that decision to me. Any requests?”
“See what movies are on Netflix, but no horror.”
“You know what? For a copper, you’re a big baby.”
“I see enough blood and gore at work thank you very much.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think about that.”
“Maybe that new Lost in Space series I’ve been dying to watch.”
“Okay,” he replied.
I walked into the kitchen and set about clearing up. My mind wandered to the case and of course, Darren Wilkes wasn’t far from my mind.
Closing the dishwasher, I looked around to check nothing had been missed. The place was spotless. Now I could snuggle up to Steve and relax in front of the TV, with a well-deserved glass of wine.
I turned the kitchen light off and walked into the living room.
Steve was pawing through the case file I’d brought home and he obviously hadn’t heard me.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He turned to look at me, shocked I’d caught him in the act. “I-I was just curious that’s all.”
I stormed toward him and snatched the file out of his hands. “You shouldn’t be reading that. It’s highly confidential.” I was fuming.
“I’m sorry, but you’ve been so wrapped up in this case and, after everything I’ve seen on the news, I just—”
“My work is my work and nothing to do with you, got it?”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I slammed the file down on the table. “I think you should just go home.”
“Come on, Dylan. I screwed up, but I didn’t mean any harm.”
“Trust is everything to me, Steve.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust me now?”
“What would you think if the shoe was on the other foot? If you found me poking into stuff that was none of my concern?” He didn’t answer. “Well?”
“Look, I’ll go. But I’ll call you tomorrow.”
At that moment I couldn’t care less if I never saw him again. “Suit yourself,” I replied, picking up the file and stomping off upstairs.
A few minutes later I heard the front door slam slut.
Thirty-One
I hadn’t slept too well, still blazing with Steve for nosing through my files.
But I couldn’t afford to dwell on it as today was going to be a long one. I didn’t have a clue what time I was on stage at Dorothy’s, so it could turn out to be a very late night.
Sliding out of bed, I hurried into the bathroom desperate for a pee. When I’d finished, I took a hot shower.
I was dressed and out of the house by 8am, wanting to beat rush hour traffic. As I pulled into my allotted parking space, my phone rang. It was Steve. I debated answering, but, as I’d mellowed a touch, I decided to get the conversation out of the way.
“Morning,” I said, speaking through my handsfree kit.
“I’m glad you answered. I didn’t think you would,” he replied. “I just wanted to apologise because I was well out of order.”
“You had no right to go through my things, Steve,”
“I know, and I wish I could turn back the clock.”
“Look…” I said, not wanting a long drawn out conversation about it. “… my work is very important to me, and as long as you respect that, we won’t have a problem.”
“So you forgive me?” He used a cutesy voice that made me cringe a little, but I wasn’t the type to hold a grudge.
“If you promise not to do it again, yeah.”
“I promise.”
“Then, let’s forget it, shall we?”
We only spoke for a few minutes because I had so much to do. But I promised to call him when I got home from Dorothy’s.
I felt better after clearing the air and walked into the station, much chirpier than I’d been an hour ago.
“Morning, boss.” Will popped his head up.
“Christ,” I said, surprised to see him. “Are you always in first?”
“I like to get a head start before the rabble get here.”
“Don’t blame you.” I plonked my things on my desk. “Hey, I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Layla the last few days?”
“I haven’t. Has she not called in sick?”
“Between us, no, and if she doesn’t play by the rules, it’ll become an HR matter.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to c
all her, see if she’s okay?”
“No, it’s okay, but thanks anyway. I was thinking of swinging by her place tomorrow morning to find out what’s going on.”
“Max is a bell-end and has a lot to answer for–putting her through all this because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.”
“I couldn’t agree more, but my job now is to make sure Layla keeps her job.”
He gave me that look. We both knew what unexplained absences would look like on her record. Any chances of promotion would be blown sky high, and it irked me because she was an extremely capable officer. “I hope she appreciates you looking out for her.”
“I hope so too, but I can’t shield her forever.”
“S’pose not, boss.”
Once again, the day was uneventful, and with no new leads to go on, I decided to get an early dart and prepare myself for Dorothy’s.
When pulling out of the carpark, I wondered if Will had found any CCTV footage from outside the sex shop. He would be on the ball with it, I knew that much, but I made a mental note to ask him Monday morning anyway. My phone rang and moved my train of thought.
I accepted the call. “Hi, Lauren. How are you?”
“Busy as ever,” she replied. “Especially when I’m acting as your unpaid PA.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Gina Elliot’s body was released to her family yesterday afternoon.”
“Then, how come it’s only you that seems to tell me these things?” I was pissed off to have been kept out of the loop yet again.
“God knows. Check Savage’s inbox—they might be going in there.”
“Ah, yes, probably. Thanks for calling me.” I would kick somebody’s arse on Monday morning and remind them of the importance of relaying such information to me, not Savage anymore. “Any idea when the funeral will be held?”
“Sometime next week I would imagine.”
“Damn.”
“Have I said something wrong?”
“I was only at Jade Kelly’s yesterday and wasn’t anticipating having to attend another quite so soon.”
“Perks of the job,” she joked. “But don’t hang your funeral suit up too quickly because Rebecca Preston won’t be on ice for much longer either.”
“Charming,” I said, a little grumpy. “But I guess you’re right.”
“Hey, I’m only the messenger,” she replied. “Anyway, gotta go.”
“Thanks, Lauren. I owe you dinner and drinks when this is all over with.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
She ended the call.
I made another mental note to ask Joanna if she would mind accompanying me to Gina’s funeral.
I stood in front of Roy, awaiting his critique. “Well, how was I?”
He looked me up and down. Now I knew how X Factor contestants felt facing Simon Cowell. It’s a no from me, was the response I’d been expecting.
“You’ve been practicing, darling,”
“Can you tell?”
“Oh, yes,” he said with a smile. “You’re quite the revelation, do you know that?”
“Eh?” I didn’t have a clue what he meant. “In what way?”
“Never in a million years did I think you’d have it in you to pull this off.”
“Really?”
“Of course not. The big butch cop morphing into a drag queen—you couldn’t write it.”
“It’s not that hard with a bit of practice.”
“Some people are born to entertain and you’re one of them.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Roy.”
“Well, take it as the biggest of compliments because I don’t dish them out often. You’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight.”
“I’m glad you’ll be there. I feel more confident when you’re around.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, darling.”
“Maybe tonight will be my last performance.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Wishful thinking is all.”
“The case not going well I take it?”
“I shouldn’t say this, but he’s fucking clever and outsmarting us at every turn.”
“People screw up all the time, just wait and see. You’ll find something and get him.”
“Before he strikes again, I hope.”
“Well I know it’s easy for me to say, but focus on what you have to do tonight—you got into Dorothy’s so you could keep your ear to the ground, and trust me, once the queens in there get to know you, they’ll be flapping their gums like their lives depend on it.”
“I hope so.”
“Mark my words.”
“We haven’t got anything we can use yet.”
“You will, but I’ll keep my ears open tonight.”
“You’re a star, Roy.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, now shut it. Let’s go again, and this time, pound your pussy on the floor.”
I burst out laughing, bent double. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means get down and dirty. When you do that slut drop, make sure you drop it as low as you can go.”
“Got it,” I said, still laughing.
He clicked his fingers. “Come on. Focus.”
I assumed my opening pose. He hit play, and I went through the routine one more time, remembering to drop it low.
“How was that?”
“Magic, darling, magic.”
Roy dropped me off at the stage door.
“I’ll go and pick Bella up now, but don’t worry we’ll be back by show-time.”
“You could always call her and say you’ve got a flat tyre.”
“Not a chance, darling. My life wouldn’t be worth living, and besides, I’m looking forward to seeing her.”
“Traitor,” I replied, shaking my head as I watched him drive away,
I banged on the stage door, feeling like an idiot in the red sequined dress Roy insisted I wear. I’d wanted to wear my stage outfit, but Roy said if I was going to linger in the bar area pre-show, I should leave my performance outfit as a surprise. He did have a point. I banged again, feeling irritated. A minute later, the same security guy from last week opened up and let me in.
I was less nervous with it being my second performance and, once I’d locked my bags away, I entered the club and headed toward the bar. There was no way I was sitting in the smoky dressing room with a gang of bitchy drag queens giving me the side eye again.
Kimberley spied me and approached—all smiles. It was good to see a somewhat familiar face. She looked sensational in a tiny, silver dress topped off with a denim jacket that was covered in badges.
“I was hoping to see you.” I gave her a hug.
“How are you?” she asked. “Looking forward to your show?”
It was hardly a show, but now wasn’t the time to debate the issue. “I’m good and yeah, I can’t wait to get up there.”
“What time are you on tonight?”
“Last up, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, no! Again? I won’t be able to stay that late.”
“Well, if you’ve gotta work, you’ve gotta work.”
“Yeah, but next weekend I’m off, so I’ll be able to see you perform then.”
“I’d like that.” I didn’t know if there would be another performance, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“Your friend not in tonight to watch?”
I had to think who she meant for a moment then realised she was talking about Layla. “Afraid not. She has kids and is feeling a bit under the weather right now.”
“Pardon me for saying, but she seemed a right grumpy cow the other day.”
“She’s not usually like that, but she’s going through a messy divorce at the moment.”
“Ah, got it,” Kimberley said, a glum expression on her face. “I feel bad now.”
“Don’t,” I said. “She wasn’t at her best the other day but you weren’t to know that.” I still hadn’t heard from Layla and wondered how she was. I would definitely
call round to her house and see her tomorrow. Not as her boss, but as a friend. Hopefully I’d be able to talk some sense into her, at least with regard to following absence procedure.
“I’ll be right back,” she said suddenly, seeming a little on edge. “Gotta see a man about a dog.”
“Okay, but while you’re gone, I’ll get you a drink. Same as last week?”
“Yeah, thanks,” she replied.
I watched as she walked toward the other end of the club then I was distracted by the handsome barman I hadn’t been introduced to yet.
“What can I get you, gorgeous?” he asked with a wink.
“Rum and cola, and a soda water please.”
“My name’s Samuel,” he said. “And you’re Avaline I take it?”
“News travels fast around here.”
“You’ve been the talk of the place all week,” he said, tending to the drinks.
“Some people are too easily pleased.”
“Blanche thinks you’re the second coming—a class act as she describes you.”
“Oh, God,” I replied, embarrassed.
“You should be honoured.” He placed the drinks down and smiled. “Give me a shout if you want anything else.”
“Thanks, Samuel.”
I wondered where Kimberley had got to, then a commotion drew my attention and, to my surprise, I watched as the club’s two burly security guards dragged Darren Wilkes across the dancefloor. He struggled but couldn’t shake himself loose from their grip.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” he yelled as the music cut out.
“Shut it, Darren. You’ve caused enough trouble tonight,” one of the guards said.
“You owe me, you cunt.” Darren’s face twisted in fury as he turned his head in the direction they’d come from.
I looked about, curious to know who had provoked such a response from him, then Kimberley appeared, her hand holding the side of her face.
“You’re not getting another penny out of me,” she screamed. “I paid my debt already.”
Security dragged him up the stairs kicking and screaming.
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