“So, she enjoyed the activities and made friends?” Reuben brought out his tablet to make notes.
“Initially she was very reluctant to go. She hated trying new things and meeting new people. I wasn’t sure about forcing the issue, but my ex-husband wanted to pursue it. I have to say that after the first year she appeared to enjoy the group more and looked forward to going.”
“How long did she attend the meetings?” Reuben asked.
“Let me see. She joined when she was twelve, so it must have been two years.”
“Was she in the same group all that time?”
“No, they graduate from one year group to the next.”
“Do you know who her leaders were?”
“They all had odd names. Skylar’s was BraveHeart. Not that she ever saw the movie of course, but she liked the name. I think one of her leaders was called Lionclaw or something similar. Another one Shield something. As I said, they chose these warlike types of names.”
“Helen, you said your daughter settled into the meetings and enjoyed them. Was there anything that upset her before her death?” Bex asked.
Helen hesitated, staring into the middle distance as though sorting through her memories. Bex wondered if she was applying a filter to them. She picked at the fingers of the plastic gloves she held.
“I didn’t tell the police this last time. I didn’t think it had anything to do with Skylar’s death, but I’ve wondered since then if it marked a change. At my husband’s birthday, two months before Skylar’s death, we had a small family party in the house. I have two younger sons with my current husband, so it was just the five of us. Skylar isn’t normally the most affectionate of girls, but she approached my husband and kissed him on the mouth. I was shocked. Ted was shocked too. When I pulled her up on that not being appropriate behavior she didn’t protest or defend her actions, she gave me this strange look and took herself up to her room.”
The gloves were a twisted mess in her hands. Bex reached out and placed one of her hands over Helen’s. Helen gave her a tremulous smile.
“What do you think it meant?” Bex asked.
“Ted swore he had no idea why she did it. I believe him. We’ve been married for eight years and were together for two before that. He’s never done anything untoward with Skylar.”
“So you don’t think there was anything sexual going on with your husband and your daughter, but do you think there was something sexual happening in Skylar’s life?”
Helen bowed her head. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “But since her death I’ve wondered. I guess I watched her a little more closely after that. She seemed to lose interest in schoolwork. She said she didn’t have time because she took on some extracurricular activities at Kids Commando, doing some training to be a leader. She even wanted to give up her speech therapy, but I wouldn’t let her.”
“Did you talk to her about these changes?”
“She’d brush off my questions or turn sullen. I spoke to my ex-husband, Liam, about her to see if he’d noticed anything. He gave me some spiel about changes in puberty that was no help. But I never, ever thought she was depressed. Certainly not depressed enough to take her life.”
She raised a hand to cover her face as she recovered her composure and Bex felt her own heart constrict. “She was an integral part of your life and you never want to forget that.” Her own voice was gruff with unspoken grief.
Helen sniffed back tears. “Thank you. It’s tough. I have two younger children and I know it’s not fair on them when I get morose sometimes. They understand, but I still don’t think it’s fair to them.”
“She was a very pretty girl. Did she have lots of boys interested in her? Or did she ever mention the name of anyone she was particularly interested in?” Reuben resumed questioning.
“No. She never went on a date, not even once. She was much too self-conscious to go out with boys.”
“Still, lots of teenage girls have secret crushes on someone. Perhaps she liked someone you might not have deemed suitable and so she kept quiet about it? Did she ever go out without telling you where she was going?”
Helen shook her head. “Apart from the extra time she spent at Kids Commando, no, she really didn’t go anywhere. In fact she’d even lost touch with the girls she had been friends with for years.”
Bex felt her eyes slipping away from Helen’s anxious misery. Everything that Helen was telling them rang alarm bells for her. She was convinced that Skylar had been sexually active, but who with?
“Did Skylar ever mention the names of any kids or leaders she interacted with at Kids Commando?”
Helen shook her head. “Not that I can remember. She wasn’t particularly forthcoming and I had two children under six to deal with as well,” she said defensively.
“What about Skylar’s father, did he have much to do with Skylar?”
“Liam?” The word came out with asperity. “Oh, he was a doting dad when he was around. It’s just that he wasn’t around that much. In our early years he was more concerned with getting his career off the ground than spending time at home. We separated when Skylar was nearly five. I’d had enough. If I was going to be a single mum I might as well be on my own.”
“How did Skylar get on with your ex-husband?” Bex asked.
“Liam’s not my ex-husband because we were never officially married. He and Skylar got on like a house on fire. As I said, Liam doted on her when they were together. Being a part-time dad suited him to the ground. He’d pick her up every other Friday night, they’d spend all day Saturday together and then he’d drop her back here on Sunday night. Perfect for him.” There was a touch of bitterness in her explanation. “I think they must have been like two kids together. Liam and Skylar had a tradition of doing trick or treating together every Halloween. They’d spend weeks working on their costumes, sticking things together, making masks. Skylar loved disguising herself. She could hide away behind her masks and fancy dress and no one need ever know about her lisp.”
“How did he take her death? I notice that only you are listed as Skylar’s next of kin.”
“He fell apart. Stopped working. Blamed himself. I couldn’t deal with him. I had my own grief and my own family to look after.”
“We’ll need to talk to him as well. Do you have his contact details?” Reuben asked.
“I’m not sure. As I said, I couldn’t deal with Liam’s dramatics and without Skylar we had no need to keep in touch. I have no idea if he’s still at the same address or has the same phone number.”
“We’ll take whatever details you have, Helen,” Reuben said, handing her a business card. “Send them through when you have a chance. Is there a photo of Skylar we could have?”
“Of course.”
“How did Skylar get on with your present husband?” Bex asked.
“Ted? Oh, just fine. They’d squabble occasionally. Skylar tended to leave her belongings in a trail from the living room to her bedroom and that annoyed Ted. I wouldn’t say they were overly close, but they certainly tolerated each other. That’s why her actions that day when she kissed him were such a shock.”
“Thank you for your time, Helen.”
Bex and Reuben rose.
“Is that it?” Helen rose uncertainly. “What happens next?”
“If there are any further developments, we’ll be in touch,” Reuben said.
* * *
“Wish Helen Mitchell had offered us a hot cup of cocoa,” Reuben groused as they headed for the car. He rubbed his hands together.
“That’s what you get for preferring style over substance,” Bex said, smug in her down-filled coat. “What did you make of Skylar Mitchell’s involvement with Kids Commando?”
“Sounded excessive. Even obsessive.”
“I thought so too. I have a feeling she was obsessed with someone in the club and there was something sexual going on. The type of behavior she exhibited in kissing her step-father in a sexual way out of the blue could have been a ploy to a
rc up her mother, but it could have been Skylar trying out some sexual moves she’d recently experienced. I’m also wondering if she was testing the appropriate boundaries which might mean she was confused about someone crossing those boundaries with her.”
“Are you thinking specifically of Keith Carroll?”
“I think you need to check back with Kids Commando and see exactly which groups Skylar was in. Was Harley part of those groups? Was Keith a leader? The time frame would have been just before Keith was forced out of his leadership role, so it’s quite possible he had dealings with Skylar.”
Reuben’s eyes widened.
“You think Keith may have touched Skylar inappropriately?”
Bex’s lips thinned. “I think there was more than touching going on for Skylar to throw herself in front of a train. When you talk to Kids Commando again, ask them if it’s usual to hold ‘extracurricular’ activities. We can’t draw any conclusions until we have the evidence, but my gut tells me that something happened to Skylar there.”
Chapter 22
Saturday 16 December
Faint rustling sounds tickled her ears. She heard the gentle sigh of quiet breathing. Yet nobody should be in her room!
That thought brought Bex to instant awareness, her heart rate kicking up a notch with adrenaline. She stilled the urge to leap out of bed, controlled her breathing and kept her eyes closed as she simulated the sleep that had now vanished. Was an intruder watching her while she lay in bed? The sinister thought sent a heated rash crawling over her skin.
She hadn’t heard anyone break into her room. There had been no sounds of broken glass or someone jimmying the locked door. Instead, what had woken her was this eerie sense of another presence in her tiny studio apartment.
Under the pretense of rolling over in her sleep, she slipped a hand under her pillow. In her days in New York, straight after Zane’s death, she had taken to sleeping with her Glock in the bed. Under her hand was nothing but cool linen. Here in London she was without her firearm. Frustrated, she cracked open an eyelid.
Pale, pre-dawn light splintered through curtains closed over the floor to ceiling windows in her studio apartment. Her bed was hidden behind a nib wall separating the living area from her sleeping space. The door to her ensuite bathroom was closed but light filtered around the edges. Someone was in her bathroom!
Throwing back the bedcovers, she tugged the lamp free from its socket and, gripping it tightly, lunged out of bed. Before she reached the bathroom, the door opened.
“Stop right there! I’m armed!” she bluffed to the emerging silhouette
A startled scream rent the air.
“Rebecca Joy Kirwan! You scared the life out of me!”
“Mom?”
“Don’t sound so dumbfounded, Bex. It’s not unheard of for a mother to visit her daughter, especially at a time like this.”
Bex winced. “At a time like this” meant Monday’s anniversary of Zane’s death.
“And it’s not Kirwan, it’s Wynter, mom, Wynter. And most mothers don’t just drop in on their daughters when it involves a seven-hour flight across the Atlantic! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Sorry, darling, you startled me and your name was reflexive. You’ve been Kirwan longer than you’ve been Wynter, after all. Can I have a hug?”
She opened her arms and Bex was enveloped in her heady scent and comforting warmth. For a moment she let her head drop onto her mother’s shoulder and sniffled back a tear. Maybe having her mother’s company while she navigated this milestone wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Don’t be angry with me for invading your privacy, Bex. I decided at the last moment that you shouldn’t be alone on the eighteenth, but I wasn’t sure I could get a flight, so I didn’t want to say anything. It all happened so quickly, I thought I’d surprise you. Now, let’s open these curtains and get some light in here.”
At five foot eight, Ruth Kirwan was as tall as her daughter, just curvier around the hips and bust. Although only in her mid-fifties, Ruth wore her shoulder length hair in becoming tones of ash blond and gray. She moved with easy grace towards the window to fling aside the drapes while Bex returned the lamp to its original position.
“How did you break into my room?”
“Don’t be annoyed, Bex. Your landlady, Georgie, is it? Delightful woman. I just adore her accent! She let me in with her key.”
Bex scowled at her mother.
“No, I said don’t be annoyed, Bex. At least not with Georgie. I used my persuasive powers on her. Now, let me take a look at you.”
Bex was dressed in her usual night attire of one of Zane’s T-shirts that clung shapelessly to her, ending mid-thigh. Self-consciously she combed a hand through her messed hair to tame it into smoothness.
“It’s still so hard to get used to your new look,” Ruth mused. “But I actually think it suits you.”
Bex’s hair had hung to her waist for years. Zane would plunge his hands into its thickness, wrapping strands around his wrists to claim he was tied to her for life. She had hacked it off to the nape of her neck after the car accident because it had been too poignant a reminder of her life with Zane.
“What time is it?” Bex abruptly changed subject. She had no desire to rake up old ghosts.
“It’s ten after eight. Luckily Georgie is an early riser. I thought I could get directly to your little apartment but I had to go through Georgie’s front door.”
When Bex first arrived in London, Reuben had introduced her to his mother. Georgie Richards ran a bed and breakfast premises in Ealing and Bex stayed there for her first few weeks in London while she looked for a suitable rental. Given London’s volatile real estate market that proved a hard proposition until Georgie volunteered to rent her the artist’s studio that was attached to her Georgian house. It was tiny, it was cheap and it was furnished with Georgie’s cast offs. Plus it was close to the Tube for work, close to a gym and Georgie let Bex borrow her aging Honda when she needed it. Altogether it was perfect.
“I need a shower and a coffee. After that I’ll feel alive enough to have a proper conversation,” Bex excused herself.
When Bex emerged fifteen minutes later, dressed in track pants and a fleeced hoodie, her mother greeted her with a frown.
“Put something decent on, Bex, I’m taking you out for breakfast. The food on the plane was abysmal. Tell me, who’s Jo? Is that female or male?”
“What?”
“This text invitation to a Christmas party on your phone.”
Bex had forgotten about the invitation. She had meant to come up with a good excuse for not attending.
“Please stop reading my phone messages. There are a lot of work messages on there relating to my cases and they’re confidential,” Bex said through gritted teeth, reminding herself that this was one of the reasons she had escaped across the Atlantic.
Ignoring Bex’s clenched jaw, Ruth’s smile widened. “Oh, fiddlesticks! I’m a paralegal, do you think I don’t know how to be discreet? Or that I don’t deal with confidential material every day of the week? I’d never have kept my job if I blabbed people’s secrets. Now, chop chop. Put on a nice pair of pants and a decent shirt. Georgie says there are a number of ‘smashing’ restaurants just down the road. I’m looking forward to having a long chat.”
Still seething, Bex ransacked her closet for an ironed shirt that didn’t exist and was forced to settle on a sweater and a clean pair of jeans instead.
“How long are you staying, Mom? You can see there’s barely room to swing a cat in here.” She indicated the living area with a wave of her hand.
“Don’t worry about me invading your space because I’ve already spoken to Georgie about renting one of her other gorgeous rooms.”
“Mom, I’m in the middle of a case. I can’t take time off work to go sightseeing,” Bex blurted desperately, amidst visions of her mother settling in for a long stay.
“I’m not here for sightseeing Bex. Can’t a mother worry abo
ut her daughter? I know you’re twenty-seven and well and truly grown up, but you’ll always be my little girl. I’m here to remind you that you’ve still got plenty of life to live.”
* * *
Bex kept her mother out of the house all day. With Christmas a week away, London was festive with lights, carols and Christmas markets. They spent several hours hovering around the Winter Wonderland markets in Hyde Park. Ruth ooed and ahhed over the quaint wooden cabins, stunningly decorated and overflowing with handmade crafts, delicious foodstuffs or glittering pieces of jewelry.
After visiting the Natural History Museum, they stood on the sidelines watching the skaters at the open air ice rink against a backdrop of trees dripping fairy lights and a majestic Christmas tree in the middle of the ice. Bex had to dissuade Ruth from taking part, terrified she would sprain an ankle or break a bone and be forced to stay in London longer.
Ruth bought them tickets for an afternoon tea bus tour, sitting upstairs on the double decker bus, a stiff breeze freezing their faces. Ruth said Bex needed some fattening up and plied her with light-as-air scones stuffed with strawberry jelly and cream and crustless, triangular cucumber sandwiches.
They hopped off to take a stroll along the Thames, soaking in the brilliant hues of the sunset against Tower Bridge before locating a restaurant for dinner.
“I know it’s still early in the evening, but I’m exhausted, Bex. All I want to do is get back to Georgie’s and crawl into bed!” Ruth exclaimed, placing her knife and fork across her plate.
Good, thought Bex. If her mother was asleep she wouldn’t be talking with Georgie! Being Reuben’s mother, Bex was terrified anything Ruth told Georgie would find it’s way back to Reuben’s ear.
Courting Death Page 12
