Sara sighed and gestured for them to follow her. She led them into a small, but comfortable sitting room. A large TV dominated one wall, a cartoon blaring out of it. Toys were scattered over the carpeted floor. A well-worn sofa and two chairs filled the rest of the space.
Sara indicated for them to sit down as she picked up the remote from the coffee table and switched off the TV. “I heard about what happened to Jean,” she said as she sank into a chair, one leg folded under her, “but I don’t see how I can help you. I haven’t spoken to her in years.”
Paige sat on the sofa, as close to Sara as she could. She really needed to touch the woman somehow, but had no idea how to do that without seeming weird.
“We need to ask you about a time in Jean’s life that you would know about.” Steele sat next to Paige, his leg almost brushing hers. “I believe you knew her when she got pregnant.”
Sara grimaced. “That is a time in my life I would rather forget.”
Paige reached over and touched the woman’s arm, as if in sympathy. “I’m sorry. I know this is likely to be difficult for you, but we really need you to go over that time. It is of vital importance. We believe it will lead to a very dangerous killer.”
The connection was only a few seconds, but it was enough for Paige to feel the churning emotions rolling through Sara. The woman was extremely distressed. She blinked back tears and lowered her voice. “I don’t want my children to hear anything. One moment please.”
Sara sprang from her seat and headed out of the sitting room. Paige glanced back at Steele. “Got a good connection?” he asked, his voice soft. His lips barely moved.
Paige nodded, just as Sara entered the room again and shut the door. She sank back into her seat and clasped her hands together in her lap. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you know who fathered Jean’s baby?” Steele asked, pulling out his notebook and pen.
Sara glanced at the ceiling. Paige could feel the woman’s pain from where she sat. “We were both so young and very foolish. I am not proud of that time in my life. I would much rather forget my stupidity.” She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “I was seeing her brother, even though he was married, and she was dating a guy she knew her parents would never approve of. We used each other as cover.”
“Did you know the guy she was dating?” Steele pressed. “Do you have a name?”
Sara closed her eyes. “It won’t be him,” she told them. “He didn’t kill Jean, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“How can you be so sure?” Steele asked, one brow raised. “We’ve been told she was afraid of him. Terrified even.”
Sara stared through the sitting room window, but Paige knew she saw nothing of the view. “Don’t get me wrong. He would have, if he could. He just can’t.” Her words were almost a whisper.
An image began to form in Paige’s mind. A man with icy cold eyes, a grim mouth that seemed like it would never smile and sandy blonde hair. She almost gasped, her fingers gripped the arm of the sofa. Her head spun. She knew that face, but from where?
“Why do you say that?” Steele asked, impatience lacing his voice.
Sara turned her gaze to him, her face grim and intense. “Have you heard of Michael Brant?”
Steele drew in a deep breath, his eyes growing wide. Paige frowned. Where had she heard that name before? Then it hit her, the memory flowing over her, making her skin prickle in fear. “The Greenwich Strangler?”
Paige remembered seeing a TV documentary about killers when she’d been working with the police back in London. Part of it had covered the Greenwich Strangler’s crimes. He’d raped and murdered fifteen women before he was caught.
Sara nodded her head. “That’s the one. Jean was dating him at the time he was very prolific. She knew nothing about his crimes, of course. The police arrested him after she found out she was pregnant. She’d been planning to run off with him.” She blew out a breath. “She was petrified when she found out what he’d done. She didn’t want anyone to know who she’d been dating or who the father of her child was. It was too late for her to have an abortion, so she opted for giving the child up for adoption.”
“She never once thought about keeping her baby?” Paige frowned.
Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. She was a mess. Just wanted to forget the whole thing. Maybe she changed her mind later on and wanted to get in touch with the kid, but I lost touch with her after things turned nasty with her brother.” She pursed her lips. “Still, I don’t see what this has to do with her death. Like I said, Michael couldn’t have killed her. It was reported last year that he died. Eaten away by cancer. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”
Steele nodded. “I heard about that. A friend of mine was the arresting officer. He told me all about Brant’s illness and his passing.” He shoved his notebook into his pocket, his disappointment clear.
Sara rose to her feet. “I’m sorry this lead didn’t pan out for you. I really can’t tell you anything more.” She waved towards the door. “So if there is nothing else?”
Steele and Paige made their way to the front door. “Thank you for your time,” Paige smiled over her shoulder. “I’m sorry to have stirred up bad memories.”
Sara reached out and gripped the front door as they passed through it. “It’s okay. I hate thinking about that time, but it’s over now and I’ve built a good life.” She paused a moment. “By the way, don’t ever believe a word Jean’s brother tells you. He’s a self-serving bastard who lies as easily as he breathes. He knew his little sister was seeing someone no good for her, but he kept his mouth shut to screw me. That’s the kind of person he is.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” Steele acknowledged with a wave of his hand. Sara shut the door firmly, the bang feeling final and somewhat ominous.
They made their way back to Steele’s car, Paige’s mind tumbling over the information they’d been given. “What now?” she asked Steele. “Our only suspect is dead.”
Steele flung the door to his car open and climbed behind the wheel. Paige glanced up and down the road before making her way to the passenger’s side. She slipped quickly into her seat, shutting the door behind her.
Steele stared ahead for several seconds. “I don’t know. I think we need to stop and take stock of the information we’ve already gathered.” He glanced at his watch, the light from the clock face washing over his features. “What do you say we stop and have a bite to eat? Don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten since lunchtime. Can’t solve anything on an empty stomach.”
“That sounds like a great idea.” Paige was starving. Her stomach growled, as if to add its approval. They both laughed. “Where will we go?”
“I spotted a restaurant about ten minutes ago back the way we came. It will do.” Steele slipped his key into the ignition and fired the engine. He snapped on his seatbelt and glanced in his mirrors before swinging the car into a three point turn.
A ping from her bag drew her attention. Paige pulled her phone out and glanced at the screen. Great. Beth had texted her. She quickly read the message.
Where are you? Worried!
Paige almost groaned. She’d texted her friend before leaving work to let both her housemates know she’d be home late. She hadn’t given a reason, hoping they wouldn’t question her. Obviously that was too much to hope. She had never done anything like this before, so she couldn’t blame them for being suspicious. What could she say to explain herself? The last thing she needed was them finding out about her.
I’m fine. Am working on some recipes for the afternoon tea at the café. Eating here. Will be late. Don’t wait up.
She stared at her reply. It was ridiculous, but she was so tired and hungry, she couldn’t think of anything better. She sent the text, her stomach clenching. Hopefully after a hot meal and some sleep, she’d be able to come up with a plausible explanation.
Paige rubbed at her aching temples. Her head felt fried. All the worry and the pressure from the last fe
w days seemed to build inside of her. Bits and pieces of information flitted around in her head. The answer to this whole thing had to be in there somewhere. Her gift always held the answer, she just had to find it.
Chapter Fifteen
The restaurant turned out to be an Italian. Paige and Steele were shown to a cosy corner table with a small tea light glowing inside a holder in the centre. Paige swallowed hard. Romantic music streamed through speakers placed in several spots around the walls. She shifted nervously as she sat down. She peeked at Steele through her thick lashes. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered as he plonked himself down opposite her and drew his napkin over his lap.
The waiter gave them both menus and took their drink orders. Paige glanced over the menu, nerves beginning to rob her of her appetite. She rubbed her sweaty palms over her trousers, extremely aware she was still in her work clothes while every other woman in the place was dressed up. The whole situation screamed awkward!
“Maybe we should have gone somewhere else. This place seems a bit fancy,” she commented, her voice squeaking. She winced.
Steele didn’t even glance up from the menu. “It serves hot food and was close by. That’s all I care about.”
Paige sighed as the waiter returned with their drinks and took their food orders. She sipped her sparkling water and placed her napkin over her lap. “So, how do we proceed?” she asked, trying to keep the desperate note out of her tone. “Would it be helpful for me to visit Jean’s home? Perhaps something there will give us a clue.”
Maybe talking business would take her mind off the romantic setting. Paige could live without having romance in her life, but it was much harder when she saw it up close and personal, knowing it was something she would never have.
Steele shifted in his seat. “Maybe, but I think we need to go over what we already know. My gut tells me the answer is in there somewhere.” He drank from his cola, then drew out his notepad. He flipped through the pages, re-reading his notes.
The silence made Paige even more nervous. The waiter returned with their food and she concentrated on her pasta. Steele tucked in as he read. “So,” he said through a mouthful of food, “we know Jean was pregnant with Michael Brant’s child. She gave up her baby for adoption after she found out the father was a serial killer. She was very afraid of him.”
Paige frowned. “If Michael was arrested, why did Jean feel she had to give up her child? He was in prison. What could he do to harm her?”
Steele gave a short bark of laughter. “Even prisoners have parental rights. He could have insisted on visitation. She would have been tied to him for life. I doubt she wanted her child to be raised under the shadow of a murderous father.”
Paige nodded slowly. “Okay, I get that. But why was she so terrified of her brother putting her on a dating site? Brant was in prison. Jean led a very closed off life despite that. I don’t see how that all fits.”
Steele shrugged, his brow creased in thought. “Maybe something happened. He could have threatened her over the child. Prisoners do make contacts inside and many of them have reach in the outside world.”
“Okay, so maybe Jean drew away from life and gave up her child for their own protection. What changed? How did the Hindleford killer come into her life? It wasn’t the father of her child. He’s dead.” Paige swirled her fork through her pasta, her mind whirling around. “When she was attacked, Jean clearly thought about not learning from the past and she knew the killer. What are we missing?”
Steele swallowed a mouthful of food, his gaze thoughtful. “Jean must have learned of Brant’s death. It was all over the news. That might have changed things for her. Any mother that gives up a child never forgets them. Would Jean be any different? She must have felt forced into the adoption and she never had another child.”
Paige sucked in a breath. “She was clearly torn over something that she’d found out about someone the day she died. She wouldn’t tell me who or what, but she was in a great deal of pain and fear. She knew Brant when he was killing. Maybe she could see the signs in someone else? She didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to turn him in.”
Steele nodded, excitement glowing in his eyes. “Who else would a woman be more protective over than her own child?”
“Do you really think it’s possible?” Paige asked, her mind whirling in all directions. “Could her son have turned into a killer?”
Steele smacked his forehead with his palm. “Of course! How could I not have seen this as soon as Sara told us about Brant?” His eyes widened. “I attended a lecture about serial killers several years ago. The speaker mentioned a few cases where the perpetrator was extremely mentally ill. That illness was passed on to a child, who exhibited similar psychotic episodes.”
Paige’s heart hammered in her chest. “So, Brant could have passed this illness onto his son through his genetics. Jean must have searched for her child and connected with him. What made him start killing though? Do you think Jean told him who his father was?”
Steele shook his head. “I wouldn’t have thought so, unless she thought there was no other way to explain her giving him up.”
“He might not have wanted anything to do with her,” Paige speculated, “so she felt forced to explain her actions.”
“Could be or maybe she thought he was old enough to deal with the truth. We may not know the answer to that until we find him.” He drew out his phone and placed a call. “Pip, I need to know if there was anything in Jean Holdbrook’s personal effects that suggested she was searching for her child or that she found him.”
He paused for several moments. “Are you sure?” He listened again, his face grim. “Okay, hold on.” He glanced at Paige, his eyes showing his frustration. “According to Pip, there was no evidence of any kind of search for her child. She had no laptop anyway, but there was no paperwork indicating she was looking.”
Paige held out her hand for the phone. She refused to believe they were on the wrong track. Her gift was pinging like crazy. They were onto something, she just knew it. Startled, Steele hesitated a moment before passing her the phone.
“Sergeant, it’s Paige.”
“Hey, Paige. What can I do for you?” his voice sounded surprised.
“Was there anything at Jean’s house that would show she was thinking of her child? Any books, newspaper articles…………anything?”
He paused for a few moments, “Actually, I did notice she had several books about adoption and legal rights. I also noticed that she had a lot of programmes on her digital box that were on the subject too. Long lost family seemed to be her favourite show. But there is no indication she actually decided to search herself.”
“I think she did,” Paige said, her gaze on Steele who was frowning at her. She relayed the information Tucker had given her to him. “It doesn’t seem likely that she would have learned of Brant’s death and not tried to find her son. Especially as she was already obsessed over the subject.”
“Brant?” Tucker asked, puzzled.
Steele wiggled his fingers for the phone and Paige handed it back. “I’ll call you back later,” he told Tucker, cutting off the call before the poor man could protest. He tapped his fingers on the table. “If that’s the case, where is the evidence? You can’t start a search like that without leaving a trail.”
Paige laughed. “You can if you weren’t the one searching.” She smiled as it became suddenly clear to her. “Peter Holdbrook was hiding something. I’ll bet it was this. He was extremely evasive about Jean’s son. I think he helped her find him.”
Steele frowned. “Why would he lie about it?”
“Sara said he would lie about anything to save himself,” Paige said thoughtfully. “There has to be a self-serving reason why he stayed silent.”
Steele leaned back in his seat. “If it was a closed adoption, legally Jean Holdbrook wouldn’t be allowed any information on the child or where to find him. Perhaps Holdbrook cut some corners and delved into this through illegal channels
?”
“It’s worth digging into,” Paige smiled as she finished up her dinner.
“Or leaning on him right now,” Steele grinned, his gaze turning feral. “His home is only half hour away.”
Paige glanced at her watch. “Isn’t it a bit late to be calling on someone?”
Steele grabbed his wallet from his pocket, holding out his hand to grab the attention of a passing waiter to request the bill. “It’s a murder investigation, Saunders. It’s never too late to call on someone under the circumstances. Plus, the element of surprise can never be underestimated.”
Paige sighed as she pulled out her purse to pay for her dinner. Steele waved her away as he rose to his feet to go and pay at the bar. Obviously he was in a big hurry.
She glanced at her watch again, wincing at the lateness of the hour. Holdbrook was not going to be happy. Neither were her housemates. How was she going to explain this to them? She shoved the worry to the back of her mind. She couldn’t think on that now. One way or the other, they had to get the information they needed from Jean’s brother. If Steele could press him with questions, Paige was sure she could find the answers, whether Peter Holdbrook wanted to give them or not.
Chapter Sixteen
Peter Holdbrook’s house was a large affair that spanned over three floors. It sat in the heart of London. Kieran couldn’t help but think the place must be worth a fortune. It had a black iron fence surrounding a small front yard that was more like a tiny courtyard. There was no grass, just concrete with strategically placed pots of flowers and green leafy plants.
He parked the car on the street opposite the house. “Are you sure we shouldn’t come back tomorrow?” Paige asked him, a little worry frown creasing her forehead. “It’s getting late.”
“It’s not that late, Saunders,” he insisted. “Now is the perfect time. Surprise has a wonderful way of turning up information. People don’t have time to prepare a story and we’re more likely to get the truth.”
The Hindleford Killer (The Psychic Eye Mysteries Book 1) Page 9
