Bring Them Home (Detective Karen Hart Book 1)

by D. S. Butler

  He knew Lauren had a regime. She had a special tablet holder with the days of the week marked on it. At the start of every week, Lauren carefully allocated the medication in the appropriate doses for each day. She’d be irritated at Rick for messing up her system, but when he explained what their mother had said, surely she would understand.

  Although he wasn’t sure how he was going to tell her something like that. It wasn’t something you could put diplomatically. Sorry, Lauren, your own mother thinks you’re trying to kill her . . .

  He lined up the individual pills on the table. Last week she’d had some difficulty swallowing, but she’d had no problem eating the toast this morning so he hoped she’d be able to gulp down the tablets without any issues.

  He passed her a glass of water and then watched her take each one.

  When she was finished, he demanded that she open her mouth and lift her tongue so he could make sure she hadn’t been pretending to take them.

  She looked hurt. ‘I wouldn’t try to trick you.’

  Rick sat down and prepared to talk things through with his mother. He had to get it through to her that Lauren wanted to help and would never try to hurt her. But before he’d made much progress, his mobile rang.

  It was DS Hart. Damn.

  He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. So much for being early.

  ‘I’ll be back in a minute, Mum,’ Rick said, picking up the bottles of tablets so they were out of his mother’s reach. He walked out into the hallway and answered the phone. ‘Hello, Sarge.’

  ‘Rick, I wondered how far you’d managed to get with the background check on Molly Greenwood’s father, Les Greenwood. I left a message last night.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Sarge. I haven’t had a chance yet.’

  There was a pause, and then Karen said, ‘I thought you were supposed to be getting in early this morning to get a head start on things.’

  ‘That was the plan,’ Rick said, stuffing the tablets back in the medicine cabinet and trying to lock it with one hand. ‘But I’m running late this morning.’

  He could hear the impatience in Karen’s voice. ‘For goodness’ sake, Rick. You could have told me. I’m waiting for that information. I’m sitting outside the Greenwoods’ house now, and I’ve got no background.’

  Rick grimaced. ‘I’m sorry, boss.’

  ‘And what’s so important it’s made you late for work? Did you sleep through your alarm again?’

  ‘Er, something like that.’

  Rick didn’t know why he didn’t tell DS Hart the truth. As far as bosses went, Karen was very understanding and wouldn’t hold it against him if he told her the real reason he was late. But Rick didn’t want anybody’s pity.

  ‘You went out drinking last night most likely,’ Karen said coolly. ‘You’ve probably got a hangover and overslept, is that right?’

  She took Rick’s silence as a guilty response. ‘This is vital work, Rick. Those two girls are still missing.’

  ‘I know, boss. I’m sorry. I’ll be in as soon as possible.’

  ‘Make sure you are,’ Karen said and hung up.

  Rick called Sophie, who was already at her desk. Of course she was. Sophie Jones, the perfect detective constable, a shining example to everyone else, Rick thought moodily.

  He hated to ask her for help, but he didn’t have much choice. ‘Sophie, I need you to do me a favour. Sarge needs a background check on Les Greenwood, particularly looking into his criminal history and what contact he’s allowed to have with his daughter. We think it was Greenwood we caught on the CCTV. I’ll forward you the email with everything we know about him so far.’

  ‘Not a problem. I’ll start work on it now. Are you coming in or do you want me to send the information to you?’

  ‘I’ll be in soon, but if you could send the information directly to Karen as soon as possible, that would be great.’

  As he was talking, he heard the front door open, and his sister, Lauren, appeared at the end of the hall. He gave her a quick wave and then went back to his phone call.

  He finished talking to Sophie and had just hung up when there was an almighty racket from the kitchen.

  His mother was screaming blue murder. ‘Get off me! Don’t you touch me, get away!’

  Rick rushed into the kitchen.

  His mother had picked up a plate and was brandishing it at Lauren.

  ‘What on earth is going on? Why are you trying to hit Lauren?’ If he hadn’t been so worried, it would have been funny. He removed the plate from his mother’s hand and put it in the sink.

  Then he turned to Lauren and saw she was trembling.

  ‘She wouldn’t have hurt you,’ Rick said. ‘It was only a plate.’

  Lauren shook her head and walked past him out of the kitchen.

  ‘Good riddance,’ his mother said.

  Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and felt a tension headache building behind his eyes. He left his mother in the kitchen and went to find Lauren.

  She was sitting on the sofa in the living room, staring down at her lap. Rick sat beside her.

  ‘I can’t do this any more, Rick.’

  ‘I know it’s difficult.’

  ‘It’s more than difficult. It’s impossible. I can’t take it. She just accused me of trying to kill her.’

  Rick grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. I should have warned you. It’s something she said this morning. Look on the bright side – she’ll probably have forgotten about it by lunchtime.’ He smiled, even though he knew the joke wasn’t appropriate. As a police officer, black humour had helped him through some difficult times.

  ‘It’s too much for me, Rick. I can’t take it. It’s all right for you, you only get it at night and she’s asleep most of the time.’

  Rick paused before answering. His gaze fell on a photograph on the mantelpiece. His mother and father smiled out from the frame. The picture had been taken on their thirtieth wedding anniversary. He hated to think that the kind, strong, caring woman in that photo was slowly slipping away.

  Maybe Lauren was right. Things had been getting worse, and she definitely had the short end of the stick, though it wasn’t easy for Rick either. He didn’t have much of a social life, having to stay in and look after his mother all the time, although he played up his Romeo reputation at the station. Whenever he was invited for drinks after work, he told everyone he had a date, living up to the ladykiller role, but it was far from the truth. Rick was usually at home making his mother a cup of cocoa by nine p.m. most nights.

  Occasionally he’d have to work late or do a night shift, which meant Lauren would swap around with him. It wasn’t easy for her, though. She had her two young children to think about. In the beginning, she’d brought them back here after school to spend time with their grandma. The two boys had been marvellous and coped really well considering their young ages. Even when their grandmother had demanded to know who they were, they patiently responded and won her over with their childish chatter.

  ‘Maybe I can try and cut back on the overtime once this case is over. It’s a big one, you see, and more demanding than usual. I know you get the worst of it, Lauren. But I promise to pull my weight a bit more once this case is off my plate.’

  Lauren shook her head. She got to her feet and wandered off into the hallway. Rick frowned. He’d never seen his sister like this before. She was close to the end of her tether and it scared him. She came back into the room, holding her bag. After rummaging inside, she pulled out some sheets of paper and handed them to Rick.

  ‘What’s this?’ he asked, flipping through them.

  ‘It’s a specialised care facility for people with dementia. We just need to sign the paperwork.’

  Rick dropped the papers on the sofa next to him and stood up. ‘No way. Absolutely not.’

  Lauren’s face crumpled and she looked as though she might start to cry.

  Rick closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Look, I do understand how hard it is. I tell you what, why
don’t I organise some help to come in a couple of days a week? That should take the pressure off you a bit.’

  ‘I don’t know, Rick. I think we’ve already left it too long.’

  Rick took her hands in his. ‘Please, Lauren. Let’s see how things go with a bit of extra help, and then we can make the decision, all right?’

  Lauren took a long time to respond, but eventually she nodded.

  When he went back into the kitchen, Rick saw his mother had fallen asleep. He carefully lifted her out of the chair and carried her to her bedroom. After lowering her on to the bed, he tucked her under the covers.

  He kissed her on the forehead and said, ‘See you later, Mum.’

  Then he left for work, feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Karen was in a bad mood. She had hoped to speak to Mrs Greenwood and her daughter, Molly, before school. If the sighting of the red-haired man at Washingborough Primary was completely unrelated to Emily and Sian’s disappearance, she wanted it off her plate as soon as possible. But she’d been trying to cram in too much. To top it off, Rick hadn’t come through with the background information.

  It was unlike him. She’d been too harsh on the phone and she knew it. He’d probably had a skinful last night, but that wasn’t an uncommon way for police officers to unwind when they were in the middle of a stressful case.

  Of course, she couldn’t just stand by and let it become a regular occurrence, but she could have been more understanding. She could have let him talk to her rather than biting his head off.

  The job was a constant challenge to every officer’s mental health. DI Morgan was a good policeman, but he wasn’t the warm, fuzzy, let’s-have-bonding-sessions-and-a-group-hug type. She wasn’t much better, but as DI Morgan was unlikely to fill the pastoral role the younger officers needed, it would be up to her to take care of the junior detectives’ needs.

  She was sitting in her car outside the Greenwoods’. It was a semi-detached house with a pleasant front garden. It probably looked nice in the summer with roses in bloom, but now they had lost most of their leaves.

  Since she was already there, Karen decided to speak to Molly’s mother. She didn’t like going in without some background information, but in this case she’d have to make an exception. She was pretty sure the whole thing was going to end up being a dead end anyway. Les Greenwood had been hanging around the school to see his daughter. He wasn’t about to become the number one suspect in their search for the missing schoolgirls.

  Karen locked the car and walked up the small garden path towards the red front door. She pressed the doorbell and a cheerful chime rang out. A small dog yapped on the other side of the door. There was a six-inch-wide strip of frosted glass running along the side of the door, and Karen could just see a small furry shape bouncing up and down.

  A moment later, the little dog was scooped up and the front door opened.

  Holding a Yorkshire terrier, the woman facing Karen looked to be in her early thirties. She wore no lipstick and her lips looked strangely pale against her perfectly tanned skin. ‘Can I help you?’

  Karen showed her ID, then quickly said, ‘It’s nothing to worry about. I just needed a quick word with you, Mrs Greenwood.’

  The woman’s mouth fell open, and she took a moment to gather herself. ‘Sorry, of course – come in.’ She shut the front door behind Karen and put the dog down in a room off the hall before shutting him in. ‘Please, come through.’

  Karen stepped into a pokey little kitchen. It was nicely decorated but there was only one narrow window, and every counter was covered with electrical items, giving the impression of an overstuffed showroom.

  Mrs Greenwood squeezed past her. ‘Is it Les? Has he done something?’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t know why else you’d be here. I don’t usually get visits from police officers before eight thirty in the morning.’ She tried to make a joke, but her smile didn’t quite take hold.

  ‘It’s actually something that happened at your daughter’s school. Two days ago.’

  ‘Molly? What happened?’

  ‘I suppose you’ve heard about the missing girls from Heighington?’

  The woman nodded and folded her arms across her chest. ‘Yes, I did. It’s awful. Is there any news?’

  Karen shook her head. ‘We had reports that a man had been seen hanging around Molly’s school—’

  ‘Oh my God,’ the woman interrupted.

  ‘—but we don’t think it’s related to our enquiry at this stage. We think it was Molly’s father.’

  ‘At her school?’ Mrs Greenwood’s cheeks flushed pink. ‘But he’s not allowed to see her without supervision. Why didn’t one of the teachers stop him?’

  Karen continued, ‘He was seen by the school gates and spoke to another pupil at the school. When he was spotted by one of the teachers, he headed off straightaway. We caught this image on CCTV and wondered if you’d be able to identify him from this.’

  Karen set the printouts down on the kitchen counter. Mrs Greenwood picked one up and studied it before moving on to the next sheet. ‘It looks like him. Yes, I’d say I’m sure that’s him. It’s Les.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Karen said. ‘Do you have a recent photograph of Mr Greenwood?’

  ‘There’s probably a few in the old albums but they won’t be recent.’ She frowned and tapped a finger against her chin. ‘I know where I can find one. The computer. Do you want me to get it now?’

  ‘Please. That would be very helpful.’

  While Mrs Greenwood went to find the photograph, Karen checked her messages on her phone.

  ‘I hope you’re going to have a word with him and tell him to stay away from the school,’ Mrs Greenwood said as she came back into the room holding a laptop. ‘He knows he shouldn’t be there.’

  Karen felt a pang of sympathy for Molly as she looked at a selection of photographs of the young girl and her father. It was definitely Les Greenwood in the CCTV footage.

  She thanked Mrs Greenwood and then said, ‘There is one other thing I think I should mention. This isn’t a police matter, but Molly was threatening another child.’

  Mrs Greenwood looked outraged. ‘Molly wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘The other child spotted Les at the school, and Molly was threatening her to keep her quiet. The child has some bruises on her arms from where Molly pinched her. I think Molly was worried that her father was going to get into trouble.’

  The woman put her head in her hands. ‘Oh God. I’ve done my best to keep her out of it, but she doesn’t understand. She still loves him. She can’t see him for the alcoholic waste of space everybody else can.’

  Karen wasn’t about to dole out any advice but she hoped the woman would talk to Molly. Whatever Les Greenwood had done, he was still Molly’s father.

  Karen finished up by asking a few more questions and then prepared to leave so Mrs Greenwood could take Molly to school.

  As she stood on the front step, Karen added in a low voice so Molly wouldn’t overhear, ‘Please don’t mention this yet to your husband. We’re going to be talking to him this morning.’

  Karen crossed over to unlock her car and slid into the driver’s seat. Her phone started to ring.

  It was Sophie. ‘Hello, Sarge. Rick asked me to do some background for you. The stuff on Les Greenwood?’

  Karen frowned at the thought of Rick fobbing his work off on Sophie, but she supposed at least it meant she got what she needed. ‘Great, thanks, Sophie. Did anything turn up?’

  ‘I’ve emailed it to you. Nothing stands out. I’ve confirmed his address, and he’s had a couple of arrests for drunk and disorderly. Uniform have been called out to Mrs Greenwood’s address a couple of times over the past year due to domestic disturbances, but there are no records to suggest he’d be a threat to children. Due to his drinking and Mrs Greenwood getting a hotshot lawyer, he’s only allowed to see hi
s daughter on supervised visits at the moment. I’ve spoken to the social worker and from the looks of things, he’s going to be allowed full visitation rights soon. She doesn’t believe he’s a danger to his daughter or any other child. He just has a problem with drink.’

  ‘Thanks, Sophie. I think it’s pretty obvious that it was Les Greenwood at the school. I was hoping to call on him this morning before he left for work but I’ve run out of time. I’m coming back to the station now. I’ll assign someone else to follow up. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.’

  By the time she arrived at Nettleham, Karen was thoroughly fed up. It had taken her nearly an hour to get there after leaving the Greenwoods’ house. Two lorries had crashed going up Lindum Hill, and the centre of Lincoln was logjammed. She gave a brief nod to the duty sergeant on the desk and then used her access card to get into the secure area of the police station.

  Karen took the stairs rather than the lift and then strode down the corridor into the open-plan office area. Pleased to see Rick was now at his desk, she said good morning to him and Sophie and then headed to see DI Morgan.

  There was a long rectangular window in the door to DI Morgan’s office. Karen paused beside it and saw he was alone. She rapped on the door before pushing it open.

  DI Morgan looked up. ‘Karen, how did you get on?’

  Karen sat down. ‘I spoke to Molly’s mother. It seems highly likely that the man outside Washingborough Primary was Les Greenwood and his only motive was wanting to see his daughter. I was planning to talk to him this morning, but I thought it would be a better use of the time to follow up on more promising leads, and then I ended up sitting in traffic for an hour.’

  DI Morgan nodded. ‘Yes, I heard about the jam on Lindum Hill. Half the station use that route in the morning. I agree with you, though. I think we can pass Les Greenwood on to another officer.’

  They chatted for a little longer, and after DI Morgan had brought Karen up to date, she went back to the main office to catch up with Rick and Sophie.

  ‘I think I may have something interesting here,’ Rick said as Karen stopped by his desk.

  Rick was hunched over with one elbow on the desk, resting his chin on his hand. He stared down at a sheet of paper.