Bring Them Home (Detective Karen Hart Book 1)

by D. S. Butler

  ‘Yes, he’s in interview room three.’

  Rick beamed. ‘Great.’ He got to his feet, grabbing his phone and tablet.

  ‘Sophie’s going to take this one, Rick. I think it’ll be good for her.’

  Rick’s face fell, and he nodded before sitting down. ‘Okay, boss, I understand.’

  ‘Look, Rick. I know this job can be tough, especially when we get cases like this, but heavy drinking isn’t the answer.’

  Rick stared down at the desk.

  ‘You know I’m always here if you want to talk about it, and if you’d prefer to talk to someone outside of the force about the situation, the police service has contacts with excellent counsellors. In fact, I could recommend one I saw on and off a few years ago. It can really help to talk things through.’

  Rick shook his head. ‘Thanks, Sarge, but I’ll be fine. It won’t happen again.’

  Karen couldn’t help feeling disappointed. ‘Well, if you’re sure . . . If you change your mind, you know I’m always here.’

  Rick looked up and parted his lips. He looked at Karen as though he were about to confess something.

  ‘What is it?’

  But Rick looked away again and the moment was lost. ‘Nothing, boss. I just wanted to say I really am sorry.’

  Karen decided she would have to leave it for now. She couldn’t force Rick into talking to a counsellor, and maybe it had just been a heavy night. He was young, and Rick had a reputation for knowing how to enjoy himself.

  Reluctantly, she scooped up the paperwork and headed to the coffee machine.

  The interview went pretty much as Karen had anticipated. They got no new information out of Nick Gibson. He stubbornly insisted that the photographs were a private moment between him and Phoebe, who’d been his girlfriend at the time. He swore the photographs had been taken after her sixteenth birthday. Karen had her doubts, but they weren’t strong enough to conclude that Nick Gibson was involved in the disappearance of his young niece and her friend.

  Karen ended the interview, and after getting feedback from the search team that nothing incriminating had been found during the physical search of his home, she allowed Nick Gibson to leave.

  Sophie took the lack of progress personally. ‘I can’t believe we’re just going to let him go. Surely if we just kept him here a bit longer and put some pressure on, he’d crack.’

  Karen sighed and stretched out at her desk. ‘This isn’t an episode of Miami Vice, Sophie.’

  Sophie’s smooth skin puckered as she frowned. ‘What’s Miami Vice?’

  Sitting at the next desk over, Rick chuckled. ‘It’s a US police TV show. You’re probably a bit too young to remember it.’

  Karen scowled. ‘Yes, well, it’s been made into a film recently too.’ Sometimes Sophie and Rick made her feel ancient.

  Sophie huffed under her breath and walked back to her own desk, leaving Karen to fill in the paperwork.

  ‘Don’t look so despondent, Sophie,’ Rick said. ‘They didn’t find anything at his property, but that doesn’t mean they won’t unearth something on his computer or phone.’

  Sophie nodded and perked up a bit. ‘True. How long do you think it’ll take to hear back from the lab?’

  ‘Depends how much they’ve got on, but I’m sure they’re treating it as a priority.’

  Karen heard footsteps and turned to see DI Morgan striding towards them. He’d been out talking to the Gibsons, and from the look on his face, Karen guessed it hadn’t been a pleasant experience.

  ‘I take it Thomas Gibson didn’t take too kindly to our theory his brother could be involved in Sian’s disappearance.’

  DI Morgan shook his head. ‘No, but that’s not my current concern.’

  Karen pushed her chair back from her desk, so she was facing DI Morgan. ‘Why? What’s happened?’

  ‘Dennis Dean,’ DI Morgan said grimly. ‘Grab your jacket. You’re coming with me.’

  A few minutes earlier, Jenny Dean had been pacing her small sitting room. It wasn’t easy. With a three-piece suite, a huge television and a large dining table all squeezed into one small living room, it didn’t leave much empty floor space.

  Her long, dark hair was tangled because she kept tugging her fingers through it. The family liaison officer had gone to the kitchen, thank God. She was really getting on Jenny’s nerves. At any other time, Jenny would have told her to leave, but she knew there was a good chance the officer would hear any news about Emily first, so Jenny couldn’t risk turfing her out.

  She wrapped her arms around her stomach. It was aching with a dull, burning emptiness.

  She didn’t understand. Emily always made her way home after school. She was a cheeky little thing, and she made Jenny want to pull her hair out on occasions, but even Emily would know this was wrong.

  She should have paid more attention. Just recently, Emily had been quiet, and Jenny had put that down to things being so tense between her and Dennis. It couldn’t be easy for the poor thing to be stuck in the middle.

  Despite her good intentions to put her daughter first, Jenny had sometimes used Emily to spite Dennis. He just made her so angry when he let them down time after time, and she wanted to protect Emily from that. But perhaps her barbed comments about Dennis had upset Emily.

  Jenny continued to pace, chewing her fingernails. It was dark outside and getting very cold.

  She hated to think of Emily out there wearing only a thin anorak. She really should have bought her a winter coat by now, but there never seemed to be enough money to go around these days.

  ‘You’re gonna wear a hole in that carpet if you’re not careful.’ Jenny’s mother, Louise Jennings, sat on one end of the sofa, quietly knitting.

  She’d been so quiet that Jenny had forgotten she was even there. Outwardly, her mother showed no sign of panic. Her voice was the same as always and not softened by sympathy, but Jenny knew her mother was worried sick about Emily.

  Jenny sat down beside her on the sofa. ‘Do you think they just walked off and got lost? I mean, that could happen. Maybe they’ve found shelter somewhere. Just because they didn’t come home doesn’t necessarily mean they’ve been taken by anyone, does it?’

  Her mother put her knitting down on her lap. ‘It’s getting late,’ she said, not answering Jenny’s question.

  ‘I wish I had a time machine so I could travel back and pick the girls up from school. It’s my fault. All of it. It would never have happened if I’d gone and met them.’

  Her mother reached out and drew Jenny in for a hug. ‘Blaming yourself isn’t going to do anyone any good at this point. We need to stay strong for Emily.’

  ‘What will I do if she doesn’t come home, Mum?’

  Jenny was sobbing against her mother’s shoulder when there came a loud hammering at the front of the house. Thinking it was news about her daughter, Jenny sprang to her feet and rushed to the door before her mother had even managed to get up from the sofa.

  Jenny flung open the front door. In the split second before the door was fully open, she pictured Emily standing on the doorstep, looking surprised at all the fuss.

  But when the door opened, it wasn’t Emily standing there. It was Dennis, and his face was contorted with rage.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  As soon as they were heading out of the car park, DI Morgan began to fill Karen in.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Becky Carpenter. She’s the family liaison officer who’s staying with Jenny Dean. There’s a situation at the family home. Dennis turned up half an hour ago. He lost the plot after finding out Jenny’s been seeing another man. Becky had no choice but to call for backup.’

  Karen raised her eyebrows as they headed towards Lincoln. ‘Well, she did the right thing. I know Becky and she’s an excellent officer, but she shouldn’t have to handle Dennis Dean alone.’ Karen turned in the passenger seat. ‘Is it true, though? Has Jenny Dean been seeing another man? Because if it is, she should have told us. He’s a possible suspect.’


  DI Morgan accelerated away from the roundabout, with a grim expression on his face. ‘Yes, she should. But she didn’t.’

  Karen gazed out of the window as a light rain began to fall, splattering the glass with tiny droplets. Why hadn’t Jenny told them about the new man in her life? Did she just forget in the stress of the situation? But then, surely the family liaison officer would have noticed if he’d visited Jenny since the girls had gone missing. If he hadn’t visited to comfort Jenny at such a time, well, that raised even more questions, which made Karen suspect that Jenny was purposely keeping this from them. But why?

  Karen’s mobile began to ring, and she reached down to the footwell, grabbing her bag.

  ‘It’s Rick,’ she said as she pulled out her phone. ‘Yes, Rick, any news?’

  ‘I thought I’d better update you, Sarge. Uniform’s on the scene already but they haven’t been able to get inside the house. Apparently, Dennis has wedged something heavy against the door.’

  Karen put her hand against her forehead. The situation was spiralling out of control fast. ‘We’re still a good ten minutes away, Rick. Tell them to go around the back but to tread carefully.’

  ‘Do you think Dennis would do anything stupid?’

  Karen closed her eyes. Dennis Dean wasn’t known for his intelligence, but under normal circumstances, she would say he was unlikely to be a threat to his family. But these were far from normal circumstances.

  ‘I don’t know but we need to be cautious, Rick. We don’t know if he’s armed. I’ll try to get through to Becky.’

  ‘Understood,’ Rick said and then hung up.

  ‘It sounds like the situation’s escalating,’ Karen said as she scrolled through her contact list looking for Becky Carpenter’s number. ‘I’m going to call Becky and see if she can tell us what’s going on.’

  It was a long time before Becky answered and Karen started to fear the worst.

  ‘Sarge, Dennis is here.’ Becky sounded slightly breathless.

  ‘We’re on the way, Becky. How are you holding up?’

  ‘We’re downstairs in the living room. I’ve got Jenny upstairs in the main bedroom, and I’m trying to stop him going upstairs, but I don’t think I can keep them apart much longer. Jenny’s mother is here, and she’s just making him worse. He’s really riled up.’

  ‘Is anyone hurt?’ Karen asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ Becky said ominously.

  ‘All right. We’ll be with you in about ten minutes. A uniformed unit is already there, but they can’t get in the front door because Dennis has blocked their way. They’ll attempt to come in through the back if you can keep him distracted.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Is he armed?’

  ‘No. He hasn’t got any weapons.’

  ‘Good,’ Karen said, thinking at least that was something on their side. ‘If the situation gets worse, Becky, you need to get out of there.’

  ‘I can’t leave Jenny to face him, Sarge. He looks like he wants to murder her. He’s convinced this bloke Jenny’s been seeing has taken Emily.’

  ‘Is there any truth to that?’

  ‘Honestly, I have no idea. Jenny hasn’t mentioned him to me at all. According to Dennis, his name’s Phil Carver – that’s all I know.’

  ‘All right, Becky. We’ll look into it. I’ll let you get back. Try to get Dennis’s mother-in-law out of the house if you can.’

  After Karen hung up on Becky, she quickly dialled Sophie’s number and gave her Phil Carver’s name so she could do a background check.

  When Karen finally hung up, they were only minutes away from Jenny Dean’s house.

  ‘Did Becky tell you why Jenny had been keeping this man a secret?’ DI Morgan asked as he turned left towards Washingborough.

  Karen shook her head. ‘No, but it’s very strange. Not only did Jenny not mention him, but Becky’s never seen him. I mean if your girlfriend’s child had just gone missing, wouldn’t you be there offering support?’

  Karen didn’t think it was possible for DI Morgan’s frown to get any deeper, but it did.

  ‘It’s not looking good,’ he said.

  Karen stared straight ahead as the fields slipped past them on either side of the road. She couldn’t agree more. It didn’t look good, at all.

  They reached Jenny Dean’s house and dashed up the driveway. The front door was ajar, and DI Morgan entered first. It looked as though someone had already got rid of the barricade at the front door. A heavy oak cabinet had been shoved to one side.

  DI Morgan called out, ‘Police,’ and announced his name and Karen’s. He stepped out of the hallway into a small living room stuffed full to the brim with furniture and people.

  The room felt even more cramped with DI Morgan and Karen joining two uniformed officers, Becky Carpenter and Jenny Dean’s mother, all crammed into one end of the living room. The huge bulk of Dennis Dean loomed at the other end of the room. The tense way in which he stood made everyone watch him as though he were a bomb about to explode.

  Becky’s hair was usually neat and tidy, in a low ponytail at the base of her neck, but today strands of hair had come loose, and her fringe stuck up on end as though she’d been raking her fingers through it.

  The uniformed officers were glad to see Karen and DI Morgan and introduced themselves quickly.

  ‘We managed to remove the barricade. But unfortunately, Mr Dean refuses to leave the property,’ the taller of the two officers said.

  Dennis Dean turned to face DI Morgan with a sneer on his face. ‘I pay the rent on this place. I’ve got more right to be here than all you lot.’

  ‘Let’s talk about this outside, Dennis,’ DI Morgan said, keeping his voice low but firm.

  ‘That’s right. You get out of here. Otherwise, they can drag you out and lock you up, and it’ll be no less than you deserve.’ The small grey-haired lady strode up to Dennis and poked him in the chest.

  DI Morgan winced. This was not exactly de-escalating the situation. ‘Please, Becky, perhaps you could take Jenny’s mother into the kitchen?’

  Becky stepped forward and put her hands on the woman’s shoulders. ‘Why don’t we make a cup of tea, Mrs Jennings?’ Becky said, practically pushing the woman towards the kitchen.

  ‘I don’t want a cup of tea,’ the woman insisted, twisting round in Becky’s grasp and shooting evil looks at Dennis Dean.

  But Becky wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  DI Morgan began to breathe more easily. With his mother-in-law out of the room, Dennis seemed visibly less angry.

  ‘What’s all this about, Dennis?’ DI Morgan asked.

  ‘It’s that slapper upstairs,’ Dennis said. ‘She’s been seeing someone else. She barely knows him. He could be capable of anything, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Emily went missing just after she got a new bloke.’

  There was a sudden scream, and Dennis’s mother-in-law ripped herself from Becky’s grasp and launched herself out of the kitchen, barrelling towards Dennis with her fists flying. ‘She was only looking for a bit of comfort. Who could blame her after living with you for all those years?’

  DI Morgan moved quickly. They needed to remove that woman from the situation.

  He put himself between her and Dennis just in time. Dennis gave a frustrated shout and, unable to take his anger out on anyone else, he reached down and grabbed one side of the dining table and flipped it over, sending the fruit bowl and phone crashing to the floor. DI Morgan braced himself, expecting the table to slam into his back, but fortunately, it stopped just short.

  ‘Stop acting like children,’ Karen said from behind them. ‘This isn’t helping at all. Dennis, pick up that table and pull yourself together.’

  DI Morgan turned to look at Dennis, keeping himself between Louise Jennings and Dennis, just in case. But the fight seemed to have drained out of the big man and to DI Morgan’s surprise, Dennis did as he was told, leaning down and righting the table, and even picking up a couple of piece
s of fruit and sticking them back in the bowl – which miraculously hadn’t broken. Then he picked up the phone and stared at it before setting it down next to the fruit bowl.

  Karen turned her attention to Dennis’s mother-in-law. ‘You, come upstairs with me. We’re going to talk to Jenny.’

  She turned and nodded to DI Morgan, who smiled. He was enjoying working with Karen. She used her initiative and they worked well together. It made the job easier when you could trust a colleague enough to divide up the caseload on the hoof without having to worry about the details.

  While Karen spoke to Jenny and her mother upstairs, DI Morgan would be able to focus on Dennis Dean.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  When DI Morgan finally managed to persuade Dennis Dean to go outside, he followed him out, after making sure Karen had Jenny’s mother under control.

  Dennis leaned against the front wall of the house and lit a cigarette. ‘Scary lady,’ he said nodding towards the house, and DI Morgan guessed he was referring to Karen. ‘Is she your boss?’

  DI Morgan stifled a smile. ‘Believe it or not, no. I’m the boss.’

  Dennis pulled a face. ‘I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of her.’

  ‘Look, Dennis. We’re trying to help you. We want to find Emily and bring her home.’

  Dennis paused and flicked cigarette ash on to the grass. ‘Do you think she’s still alive?’

  When Dennis asked the question, he was staring down at the floor, but he slowly raised his head to gaze at DI Morgan and wait for an answer. DI Morgan shifted awkwardly under those steely blue eyes. He couldn’t lie.

  ‘I really don’t know. I hope so.’

  Dennis slumped against the wall, looking like a broken man.

  ‘Is there a reason you suspect the man Jenny has been seeing, Dennis?’

  The big man dropped the cigarette on the floor and crushed it under his foot. ‘I can’t help suspecting everybody these days. This bloke, Phil Carver, is some sort of computer nerd. You hear stories about that, don’t you? Sleazy websites with little kids.’

  ‘We’ll talk to him, Dennis. We’ll find out if he has anything to do with Emily’s disappearance.’