by Clare Revell
“Probably safer than a Bible verse,” he said wryly, looking at his own laptop.
“There are thousands of those. And you can have numbers or words and shortened names for the books. A ‘V’ or the word, verse. Millions of combinations.” She yawned. “Sorry.”
“I’ll let you sleep.” He slid the laptop into its new case. “Would you like a lift tae church in the morning?”
“Please. And would you like dinner here after? I’m doing a roast.”
He grinned. “I love roasts. Thank you.”
10
Craig finished wiping up. He hadn’t enjoyed a home cooked meal so much in a long time, but figured if he told Milly that again, she might make good on her threat and stuff him rather than the chicken next time. “Do you feel like a walk? There’s a lovely one here. I usually run it, but no after such a fine meal. It takes about an hour and a half to walk it.”
“Sounds good.” Milly slid into her shoes and grabbed her jacket and the key. She locked up and turned around, sighing as a man waved from where he sat on his balcony. She waved back.
“Is that him?” Craig asked, taking hold of her hand.
“Yeah. I just wish he’d stop watching me. It’s creepy.”
“Well, I’ll protect you.” He walked with her, enjoying the simple pleasure of being in step with her, her hand in his, and the company of—not simply a woman—but a woman he’d come to care a great deal about. They headed down Station Road and took the turning onto Dunbarney Walk.
Multicolored trees lined the pathway, and he loved the gasps of delight and comments from Milly as they walked past fields and the train tracks. He pointed out the deer and chuckled as she took photos of him and the deer.
“That’s Dunbarney House,” he said, pointing to a huge, red bricked house with many windows, across one of the fields.
“I’ve always wanted to live in a big house, so long as I have someone in to cook and clean it for me.”
“You cook pretty well,” he said.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like being cooked for.” She paused “Mind you, I think I’d get bored doing nothing but sit there all day. And I definitely don’t fancy being dressed by anyone.”
They walked a little further. “This is known as the three little pigs house.”
“Really?” Her eyes twinkled.
“According to my brother, anyway. Just past here the path divides in two. We’ll take the right hand fork this time.”
“What’s down there?”
“The windmill—well it’s more of a ruin now. But it’s worth seeing, if you’d like.”
Milly nodded. “I’d love to.”
He smiled and walked with her, taking the other path. He plucked a stray leaf and stuck it in her hair, then laughed as she fluffed her hair and posed for him. “Dinnae take you for a catwalker.”
She put a finger to her lips. “I moonlight as one. Better not tell my boss, he might not like it.”
“OK,” he said in a stage whisper. “I willnae tell him a thing.” He led her around the edge of the field rather than the overgrown footpath and through a clump of trees.
“It must have been huge.” Milly halted, fascination written over her face as they reached the red stone ruin. A canopy of trees gave it some shelter and acted as a roof. “What happened to it?”
“It just fell into disrepair. You can get inside, either down the steps here or on the other side, or there’s a tunnel just over there.”
Milly let go of his hand, leaving him bereft and cold. She scrambled through the old doorway and vanished from view inside the windmill. There was silence, then a short cry.
“Milly?” He jumped, reaching her side in an instant.
“Craig…” She was pale.
“What’s wrong?”
She pointed behind her.
The smell hit him at the same time his gaze landed on the blood splattered ground, and the stiff, decaying, spread-eagled body on the far ledge.
****
One of the uniformed officers offered to drive Milly home, but she shook her head. “Thanks,” she repeated. “But I can walk back.” She turned to Craig as he came back over. “Who was she?”
“Jenny Gough, our second vic we didn’t find. Are you feeling better?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I feel like a right numpty. I screamed like a girl. I should be used to this.”
He touched her arm briefly, and then let go, seemingly aware of the gaze of the other officers on them. “Never say that. The day you become used tae this, is the day you quit caring, and you’ll be no good at the job.” He lowered his voice. “Besides, you are a woman.”
They began walking back the way they’d come. As soon as they were out of sight, Craig took hold of her hand again.
She took comfort in his presence. “We need to catch this bloke,” she said quietly.
“Aye. We will.” His fingers laced with hers as his thumb stroked the back of her hand. “And I will personally throw away the key once I have locked him up.”
“They’ll let you do that?”
His eyes glittered. “They’ll no have a choice.”
She nodded, looking back at the path. They walked quietly, then she pointed to a tree in the middle of the field ahead. “What’s that?”
“The Cromwell Tree. I told you aboot that before. Oliver Cromwell camped underneath—”
She shook her head and pointed. “No. That. It looks like—” She broke off, breaking into a sprint at the same time Craig did.
It could only be one thing. Another body.
Reaching the tree, she grabbed the young man’s legs, while Craig scrambled up the tree and cut the rope.
Milly laid the body on the ground, closing her eyes as she recognized him. Then she felt uselessly for a pulse, before turning around and sitting on the ground, burying her face in her hands. “I know him,” she said. “Jock or something.”
“Aye, from church.” Craig pulled out his phone. “I cannae believe this. Aye, it’s DCI Fraser. We’ve found another body. The Cromwell Tree.” He sat beside Milly and wrapped his arm around her.
“I only spoke to him on Thursday. He came over and said hi in the café that time I met the bloke from the lodges. He asked if I was investigating the murders when I said I was a cop. It’s not fair. He’s so young. Why would he kill himself?”
“I dinnae ken,” he said quietly. “You’re no going to try and connect this one to our serial killer, are you?”
Sirens once more shattered the Sunday afternoon peace of the sleepy Bridge of Earn.
Milly shrugged. “I don’t know. There was a suicide around the same time as the murders last year, but there was no note, and we couldn’t link it to the case. It’s still listed as unsolved.”
He hugged her, then let go as officers began approaching them. He rose to his feet, his work persona taking over. “Sergeant.”
The uniformed officer looked at him. “Death seems tae be following the two of you around today. I understand this is your second body o’ the day.”
“Aye.” Craig briefed him, and then took a deep breath. “If you need us, you know where we are. Jenson, let’s get you home, you’re no meant tae be working until Monday.”
Milly caught the look the sergeant gave her. “Sick leave.”
“Oh, it was your car that got totaled,” the sergeant said, understanding replacing the clouded look.
Milly nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’m glad you were nae hurt too badly. I’ll get your reports tomorrow.” He tipped his hat and headed over to the body.
Craig started walking with her back to the main road. “I promise you this is no your usual Sunday afternoon walk.”
“I hope not. It’d be a pretty empty village if it was.”
“You could say a ghost town.”
Milly groaned. “Thanks. Now I shall have that song stuck in my head for the rest of the day.” She glanced at him and sang, “This town’s becoming like a ghost town…”
>
He rolled his eyes. “You had tae do that, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “I like sharing…except chocolate, because some things are not intended to be shared. Ever.”
He saw her to her door and hugged her quickly. “Write a report, well, two, and give them tae me in the morning. I’ll pick you up about seven forty-five. I want tae get in and check my office early. You need tae do the same.”
She nodded. “OK.”
He kissed her cheek. “Good night, Milly.”
Taken by surprise, she could barely manage a “Night,” as he headed to his car.
****
Monday morning came all too quickly, after another night of not much sleep and vivid dreams containing cottages, a shadow man who was closer each time and the smell of burning flesh. After she and Craig got to the nick, she spent forty minutes tidying the mess in the office and trying in vain to restart the computer. Failing, she set her new laptop on the desk and booted it up.
As she did, Craig tapped on her window and beckoned her into the squad room for the morning briefing. She headed in, closing her door. She glanced around the room, noticing DC Bradbury was missing.
Craig didn’t look happy. “Vickery, ring her and find out where she is.”
“Already have.” Vickery’s feet, as always, were propped on the desk. He looked less than interested. “There’s no answer. Mibbe she’s on her way in.”
Craig scowled. “Right, then we’ll start without her. As you know the DI’s car was totaled on Friday when someone drove her off the road. Following on from that, both her office and my office were broken into on Saturday. Files were moved and the computer’s wiped. And Sunday, two more bodies were found.”
As he continued the briefing, Milly noted with relief he left out their part in the discovery of the bodies. “Jock Lovell, twenty-three, is at the moment being treated as a suicide, but I’m waiting for the coroner to confirm this.”
Vickery put the phone down. “Still no answer from Vanessa.”
A bolt shot through Milly and she glanced over at the board. Why had no one mentioned her first name before now?
“Has anyone seen or heard from her?” Craig asked.
“No since Friday, when the DI sent us all out on a wild goose chase,” Vickery said. “She had Friday afternoon and the weekend off and said something about going to Edinburgh for a few days.”
Milly leaned back in her chair. “I was meant to meet up with her at the brickworks, but the car got written off before I got there.”
“Right.” Craig looked at her long and hard, and then back at the others. “The rest of you get out and pound the streets. Retrace her steps. Check with her friends, neighbors, family. Find out where the last sighting of her was. Also check CCTV and go by her house to see if she’s sick. And for goodness sake, the lot of you go out in pairs and keep in touch every fifteen minutes or so.”
As the room emptied, he eased onto the table beside her and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you mention meeting her before?”
“After the wreck on Friday, there was a text on my phone from her that stated the place was a dead end. Said she’d head off for the weekend and file the report when she got in this morning.” She stood. “You can’t make me feel any worse about this than I already do, so don’t even try.” She turned, intending to walk away.
His hand gripped her, turning her to face him. “Milly…”
“Don’t…please.” She tugged free.
As he left the room, she slammed the desk in frustration and then moved over to the board, studying it. She picked up the whiteboard pen an added the suicide of Jock Lovell to the right hand side, along with reporter/church musician in the occupation column. The more she looked at it, the more her gut gnawed at her. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed the familiar number.
“Acting DI Holmes speaking.”
“Hi, Nate.”
“Hi, Guv, how’s it going?”
“It’s not,” she sighed. “I need you to cross reference something for me. It’s on the computer in my—your—office, assuming you have a minute.”
“For you, sure. What do you need?”
“Open the docs folder on the desktop and there’s a zip folder called MJ47X. Open it, but you’ll need my password.”
“Why don’t I just email the whole thing to your work addy up there?”
“Work email isn’t secure,” she said quickly. “The password is Waltons Mountain, capital W, capital M, 07946.”
“OK.” Nate tapped as he spoke. “I’m in.”
“Give me the name and occupation of the suicide victim.”
“Jack London, twenty-three, reporter for the local rag and church musician.”
Millie groaned as she wrote it on the board in front of her. “Just what I didn’t want to hear.”
The door opened behind her. “Jenson, a word. Now.”
“One sec, guv. Nate, can you email that file after all?”
“Sure. Where to?”
“Send it to [email protected]. Thanks. Better go.” She hung up and turned around. “There’s your link between the two apparent suicides. Too much of a coincidence to—” She broke off as she took in the upset man before her. His eyes glittered, and his brow furrowed. “Guv? What’s wrong?”
He strode towards her, feet thudding on the floor, anger and grief oozing from every pore. “Vanessa is missing. Her car was found abandoned in the sports center car park twenty minutes ago. Her hair and watch were on the passenger seat.” He whipped the pen from between her fingers and wrote DC Vanessa Bradbury on the board. “She doesn’t live with her parents. Otherwise they’d have reported her missing before now. And her flat mate assumed she’d gone to Edinburgh for the weekend as planned and wouldnae have missed her until tonight as she was coming straight into work.”
Milly swallowed. “What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing.” He turned his furious gaze on her. “I told you what would happen if one o’my officers was hurt because of you. You’re suspended. Get out of my squad room.”
11
Milly stood, too stunned to respond other than open and close her mouth, as the blood drained from her face and her stomach threatened to eject her breakfast squarely on Craig’s shiny shoes. Finally she managed one word. “What?”
“You heard me. As of now, you are off the case, off my team and oot of my nick. Without pay. Now leave.”
“Craig…sir…I—” She sucked in a deep breath. “You can’t do this. It wasn’t my fault. Extenuating circumstances, remember? I got in an accident. He deliberately drove me off the road so he could get to her.”
“Dinnae you lecture me.” His Scottish brogue was even more pronounced than normal. He pointed to the door. “Leave. Now. Go home. I’ll let you know what charges you’ll be facing once I’ve decided.”
Milly stomped across the room and slammed her office door so hard the glass rattled in the frame. She shoved all her things into the laptop bag and glanced up. Craig was still in the squad room watching her. She shoved the laptop in to the bag and pulled her handbag from the desk drawer. Grabbing her jacket, she slid into it. Then, shouldering the bags, Milly stormed past him.
He reached for her, but she dodged him.
How she could have ever let the bloke into her heart was beyond her. She’d go back to the lodge, pack and drive south.
Drive… She sighed. She had to go and pick up the car from the hire place. And she had no idea where it was.
“Jenson.” Craig’s voice brought her to a halt and she spun around, waiting for him to continue. He moved down the hallway after her. “You still need to collect your new car. Want a lift to the garage?”
She forced herself to be civil, even if the only thing she wanted was to throw the bloke into the middle of next week. “If it’s not out of your way, sir.”
“I wouldnae have offered if it were. I’m on my way to talk to Vanessa’s parents. I pass the garage.” He reached out and took the laptop ba
g from her.
Her heart sank further. “I can manage,” she objected, reaching for it.
“I’m sure you can.” He nodded to the door.
The car journey was icy and uncomfortable and she got out with relief when he dropped her off. “Thanks.”
He nodded and drove away swiftly.
Milly scowled after the car and headed inside. Twenty minutes later, she was back at the lodge and throwing her clothes into her suitcase. As she turned back towards the bed with another pile of clothes, she caught sight of a man standing on the roadway above. He appeared to be watching her, but as she gazed back, he turned and left. A knock on the front door interrupted her. Half expecting it to be Craig, she flung open the door.
Mary smiled. “Hi. You got some mail this morning, so I brought it over for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you all right?”
Milly shook her head. “My car got totaled on Friday and now work has gone pear shaped.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I should pay you.”
Mary shook her head. “It’s all paid for in advance. Craig, DCI Fraser, did that when he booked.”
Milly sighed. “Great, then I owe him.”
“He said you’d probably say something like that. And to tell you not to pay him back.”
Milly scowled. “I will not be beholden to the man. He needn’t think that a couple of dinners outside work means he can buy me off.”
“He’ll have claimed it back from work by now, but it’s paid up until the end of the month.”
“He’ll want a refund if I leave.”
“That isn’t possible.” Mary shook her head.
At that moment, Milly decided she’d stay, work this case on her own time and try to track this bloke down. After all the lodge was paid for, and she had to admit she hadn’t stayed in a nicer place ever. And if she could ever work it so she came here on holiday, she’d book in a flash. “OK.”
“And you should ken that Craig’s not like that. He’s all bark at times, but he doesn’t bite. He’s mates with my brother so I’ve known him years. He rants and raves, but then it’s over and done with. He never stays angry for long. He’s a good man.”
