by Clare Revell
Craig scowled. He’d have that song stuck in his head for hours now. “Your familiarity with the case would be why command are sending you here. I’ll wait for you in my office tomorrow at noon and brief you then. Drive safely now.” He hung up and had taken barely three deep calming breaths before his phone rang. Not bothering to look at the screen, he answered the call. “Fraser.”
“Guv, we’ve got a new cop joining us.” Vickery sounded as irate as Craig was at the news.
“Aye, I ken we do.”
“It’s a woman and one with a reputation for getting officers killed.”
“I ken that as well.”
“It’s bad luck.”
“You think I dinnae ken that also,” Craig snapped. “No that I do luck. The Chief Super thinks we need a DI on this case and she’s it. Clear the office at the end of the main room for her.”
“But Guv, that’s ma office...”
“And she outranks you, sergeant, so dinnae argue with me. We have our orders.” He hung up and tapped the phone on the palm of his other hand. The next problem was where to house this woman while she was here. He needed to find some place respectable, yet close by, and preferably not his front room.
There was a place, self-catering lodges, right near where he lived. Ideal. And best of all, it was run by a friend. He just prayed Mary would have a vacancy.
Dialing quickly, he watched the sun peek from behind the clouds, sending a shaft of light over the orange leaved trees.
“River Edge Lodges.”
“Hi, Mary, it’s Craig Fraser. I was wondering if you have a lodge free. It’s kind o’short notice, but I have an officer who needs accommodation from tomorrow for a few nights. I’m no sure how long for, could be anything up tae a month.”
****
Milly finally pulled into the car park of Barrack Street police station. She was exhausted. The drive had taken her seventeen hours, including the few stops she’d made for coffee and other necessities. She’d managed to grab a couple of hour’s kip in a car park around Carlisle, but despite that she was mentally and physically shattered. She pushed open the doors, crossed to the glass paneled front desk, rang the bell and waited.
A disembodied voice finally replied. “Can I help you?”
She squinted, the sun on the glass meaning she couldn’t see anyone on the other side. “I’m DI Jenson. I’m here to see DCI Fraser. I was due to report to him at twelve noon.” She pulled out her warrant card and showed him.
“The DCI isn’t in.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “He should be expecting me.” She glanced at the clock. It read eleven forty-five. “I’m a little early I know, but…”
“Take a seat over there. I’ll call up and leave a message for him.”
She sat and waited. And waited. And waited. An hour passed. Had they forgotten about her? Pushing to her feet, she went over to the window and rang the bell. A different officer came over. She flashed her warrant card again. “DI Jenson to see DCI Fraser. I’ve been waiting over an hour.”
“I’ll show you up.”
“Thank you.” She followed the officer through the door and signed in. Then she followed him up three flights of stairs.
“Just in there.” He pointed and grabbed his radio as it squawked. “Sorry, I have tae run.”
Milly stood in the doorway and took a deep breath. Two plain clothes cops sat at the desks. Neither wore a tie and both looked unshaven and downright scruffy.
One of them, white hair and grubby blue shirt, looked up at her. “Are you lost, darlin’?”
“This is the MIU?”
“Aye, that it is.”
“Then, no, I’m not lost. I’m looking for DCI Fraser. I was told to report to him here at twelve.”
“You’re late. It’s gone one. And aye, lassie, you’ll find him here.”
Milly’s hackles rose and she bristled. “So?”
“So, what is it you want?”
“Look, it’s been a really long twenty-four hours.” Milly moved away from the door and leaned on the officer’s desk. “Most of it has been spent travelling and fighting road works and queues on the M6. So, what I want is to be told where I can find DCI Fraser. I also want a hot bath, cup of tea, a decent meal, and ten hours sleep. In that order. What I don’t want is to be left hanging for over an hour downstairs in the lobby, while a bunch of Scottish plods play the fool and refuse to help.”
The cop looked pointedly at her, then at the door.
Milly closed her eyes and sighed. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”
“Aye, Detective Inspector Jenson. That I am.”
2
Milly spun around, her stomach tying itself in knots and trying to hide in her shoes. Her face burned.
A tall man, easily topping six feet, leaned against the doorway, left hand in his trouser pocket. Dark curly hair framed his face, the faintly amused look tempered by a furrowed brow and fire in his intense blue eyes. He wore a black shirt neatly tucked into black suit trousers, jacket hanging open, his grey tie fastened with a gold tie pin.
She took a deep breath and held out a hand. “DCI Fraser, I assume. I’m DI—”
“Late is what you are, and I cannae abide lateness. I dinnae care to ken what you do or dinnae want. What matters around here is what I want. And what I want, is you in my office. Now.”
Milly’s tiredness and exasperation overflowed. “Actually I’ve been here since eleven forty-five. The officer on the front desk kept me waiting. He said you weren’t in the building.”
His scowl and his Scottish brogue deepened. “Ma office. Noo.”
Translating that as ‘My office. Now,’ Milly scurried after him. Once she was inside his small office, he slammed the door and rounded on her.
“Dinnae dare talk to me like that again. I dinnae ken how you address your superiors doon sooth, but here we respect the chain o’command. You are late.”
“I was no such thing.”
“Dinnae answer back. This is a huge case; the Chief Constable’s daughter is missing. What I need are officers who can pull their weight and work, no complain and whine like a bairn. Get oot o’here afore I sack you. And no driving and using your phone at the same time, either, because I will no hesitate to report you for it the next time.”
Milly scowled and didn’t move. “It was on speaker phone. And I am not turning around and driving seventeen hours back home again. So you needn’t think I am.”
“I meant to your lodgings. Get some sleep. You’re no good to me in this state.”
She folded her arms, resisting the urge to tell this arrogant cop where to get off. Arrogant he may be, but right now he is my commanding officer. And he does deserve a measure of respect. “I have nowhere to stay, sir. I came straight here. I haven’t slept or eaten yet either.”
“Hence my reason for sending you home for now. You’re no good tae me in this state.” His tone softened. “I’ve arranged somewhere for you tae stay.” He scribbled on a piece of paper, before tearing it off and waving it at her. “River Edge Lodges had one lodge empty so I booked it for the next month. The place is three miles oot o’Perth in Bridge of Earn, just by the M90 entrance.”
“I passed through the village on the way here,” she said. A month? I can’t be here a month.
“Then you will have nae problem finding it again. Go get your bath, tea, hot meal, and ten hours sleep, and I’ll see you at 9:00 AM tomorrow sharp. Dinnae be late now.”
Milly scowled and spun. She exited the office, shutting the door as firmly as she dared. How dare he speak to her like that? She’d gone three paces when the door opened behind her.
“Inspector Jenson?”
She turned. “Sir?”
He held out an ID card on a lanyard. “You’ll be needin’ this. It’s a temporary one. Dinnae lose it. We’ll get your mug shot done first thing.” He tossed it to her.
Milly caught it and shoved it around her neck. She glanced at it. “It’s M-i-l-l-y not M-i-l-l-i-e. At
least give me the common courtesy of spelling my name correctly…sir.” Before he could say anything else, she shoved open the stairwell door and vanished through it.
****
It didn’t take Milly long to find her way back to the main road and out of Perth towards Bridge of Earn. Just after the bridge from which the town took its name was a sign for the lodges. She drove a little farther and took the left turn the brown tourist sign indicated. She negotiated the narrow road carefully as she drove over pot holes and past a well, which bore a sign, River Edge Lodges. A huge reception sign was located outside of a tidy red lodge. Two wooden planters, one on each side of the door, were filled with yellow marigolds.
She didn’t expect for a moment the office would be open at this time of day, but a sign declared it was. She opened the door to a well-lit area. One wall was filled with leaflets of things to do and places to see. Milly crossed over to the huge desk.
A brown haired woman with a huge smile came from a back room.
Milly smiled back. “Hi, I’m Milly Jenson. I have a booking…umm, DCI Fraser made it on my behalf. So I don’t know what name it’s under.”
The woman held out a hand. “Mary McKay. Welcome to River Edge Lodges. DCI Fraser rang and said you were on your way over. I’ve put you in lodge eleven. It’s got a lovely view over the play area. Electricity is by a pound coin meter in the cupboard by the door. But there should be some in there.” She handed over a key. “Just follow the road down and you’ll find it. It’s the fourth building on the left hand side of the road. Parking is on the gravel to the left of the lodge by the ramp.”
“Thank you.”
“There’s a file in the lodge with all the info you’ll need to know, along with lots of tourist information. If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”
“I will, cheers.” Milly pocketed the key. “Umm, where’s the nearest shop for bread and milk and so on.”
“That’s the co-op. Go back up the way you came, turn left, and you can’t miss it. It’s quicker to walk. Parking is hopeless up there. Or there’s the supermarket on the way down into Perth.”
Milly nodded. No way was she driving again today. Not unless it was a major emergency. “Thank you.”
Mary smiled. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.” Milly headed outside into the late afternoon sunshine. The sun looked to be setting already, and it was barely two-thirty in the afternoon. She drove slowly down the private road, smiling at the sign which read ‘Dead slow, free range children.’
There were lodges to the right of her and a fence to her left. As she approached a bend in the road, two large lodges appeared on the left. “That’s two.” The next building was a shed of some kind and then there was another lodge. “Is that it?” She pulled up and checked the number on the door. “Eleven.”
Milly reversed the car onto the gravel next to it and switched off the engine. “Home from home I guess.” She got out and walked up the ramp. This place probably looked beautiful in the snow. A real wood cabin, just like she’d always wanted to stay in as a kid.
In front of the lodge, the other side of the road was a huge green play area surrounded by a large grassy dyke, presumably to prevent the river from flooding the area. A slide and other play equipment were set to one side with picnic tables dotted around. To the far left, there were animal pens which contained what sounded like goats and chickens, something to check out later.
The wooden balcony contained a black dustbin and table and chairs. Milly turned to the lodge itself and unlocked the door. The scent of pine hit her and she breathed deep. The door opened into the lounge with sofa, chair, and coffee table. To the left was a small galley kitchen. Two doors set on either side of the flat screen TV. The smaller was the airing cupboard. The larger door led to a twin bedroom with a bathroom opening off that.
Both the beds were made and Milly flopped down on one. She glanced over at the window. Trees lined the hill behind her, and she could see a hint of traffic through the gap. That must be the main road she’d driven along.
“Well, this won’t do,” she told herself. “Must unpack the car, go and get milk and tea bags and something for breakfast tomorrow.”
Once she’d brought in her bags and figured out how to turn on the fridge and hot water, Milly walked the short distance into the village and bought the few bits she’d need for dinner and breakfast.
As she returned to the grounds of the lodges, she admired the gorgeous shades of red, orange, and yellow the leaves had turned. It was so quiet here, unlike home. Living on a main road like she did, didn’t exactly make for a quiet life. Maybe this was what she needed. Time out. Time to think and reflect and—
No. Reflecting was just what she didn’t need. She filled the kettle and shoved the microwave meal into heat. That gave her exactly nine minutes to unpack. She had to admit as she crossed the polished wooden floor into the bedroom that her new boss sure knew how to pick accommodation. This place was amazing. And probably cost a fortune. Even though she’d been here barely an hour, she knew it’d be worth every penny.
****
Craig sat in his office, hunched over a report, unable to get the dark-haired bombshell from his mind. The black jeans and red tee shirt she wore did nothing to hide her figure. Not thin by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn’t overweight either. He’d estimate a fourteen or maybe a sixteen—what he and his brother, Alistair, termed someone like her curvaceous.
Alistair had been married almost two years, and Katie was about to give birth any day now.
Craig hoped that one day he would find a woman to settle down with. But so far any attempt at a relationship ended in disaster before it began. Either the fact he was a cop scared off any potential date, or him cancelling said date altogether when work cropped up resulted in no second date.
He tapped the pen against his desk. He could see her as if she were stood before him. Shoulder length straight black hair, gold pendant with a cross on, narrow set brown eyes, not much makeup, high cheek bones and a chip the size of Ben Nevis on her shoulders. That one had a problem with authority and following orders, and he just knew she’d cause him no end of trouble before this case was over. She had a temper to rival his own and wasn’t afraid to say what she thought.
He admired that, in a strange way, as it was refreshing to have someone not kowtow to him all the time. But not too much. He demanded, and usually got, respect from his subordinates.
He finished his cold coffee. He was thinking like a cop and describing her as if to a sketch artist. Well, apart from the last bit. That was more like his personal opinion. Gut instinct had served him well over the years and was seldom wrong. Not that he was perfect—at least not this side of heaven.
His phone rang and he picked it up. “Fraser…hi, Mum.” He shuffled papers on his desk as he listened. “No, I willnae forget…” He glanced up at the knock on the door frame and beckoned Vickery in. “Aye, I will. I have tae go, there’s someone here. I’ll call you when I get home. Bye.” He hung up. “Mothers.”
“Aye, we all have them, and they all know how tae pick their time tae call. Usually at the most inopportune moment possible.”
Craig nodded. “Aye. So, what can I do for you?”
“Ma office is clear for the new DI.”
“Thank you. Have you informed the switchboard that the extension is now hers?”
“Aye. I’ve taken o’er the one on the spare desk for now. I hope she’s no planning on wearing jeans tae work tomorrow.”
“She’ll fit right in if she does. Where’s your tie and suit jacket?”
“Tie is in ma desk drawer, jacket o’er ma chair. I took the liberty of ringing her nick and spoke tae a DC Pete Button.”
“Do I want tae ken what he said?”
“She’s impossible tae work with, brash, bossy, likes things done her way, willnae listen to anyone…”
Craig held up a hand. “Sounds like a few people I ken. You need tae g
ive her a chance.”
“Guv, she got three officers killed. That’s all I need tae…”
“And I’m sure she learned from whatever mistake that was.”
“Dinnae be too sure,” Vickery muttered.
Craig narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Mibbe you should just ring an’ speak tae DC Button yourself. Two cops were injured on her watch only last week.”
“I dinnae hold with gossip, as you ken verra well. Do you no’ have enough work? Mrs. Tanner is still missing, right?” As Vickery nodded, Craig scowled. “Then go.” He reached for the phone as the door closed. Flipping open the file on his desk he dialed Headley Cross. “Hi, I’d like to speak to DI Jenson’s replacement, please.”
There was a pause then the call was transferred. “Acting DI Holmes.”
“This is DCI Fraser from Perth, Police Scotland. I wanted a quick word about DI Jenson.”
“Did she arrive OK?” DI Holmes sounded worried. “Only there was a ten car pile-up with fatalities on the M6.”
“Aye, she’s here. Do you ken a DC Button?”
“I do.”
“He spoke to one o’my officers a short while ago and, no sure how to put this…”
The other officer sighed. “Let me guess. He’s been telling tales out of school.”
“Aye, something like that. Tae be honest, it’s doing my heid in a wee bit. He mentioned two officers injured last week, and added to the case she’s up here tae help with...”
“DI Jenson is one of the best officers I’ve worked with.”
Craig tapped his pen against the desk as DI Holmes put a different spin on the incident and woman. “Thank you. No, cannae blame her for that. Mibbe you and I can stop the gossip at both ends.”
He could almost hear the other officer nod.
“Good idea. If there’s anything more you need, ring me directly,” Holmes said.
Craig scribbled down the number the man provided and left his own in exchange. Then, he hung up and marched down the corridor. He flung open the door to the squad room, not surprised to find the conversation die instantly.
