Unfinished Business

by Heather Atkinson

  “It’s a good result,” Brodie told Hillyard.

  “I’ve got a man dead. I fail to see how that’s good for anyone.”

  “Better it’s the murdering shite dead than the hostages.”

  “True.” He fixed Brodie with his death stare. “I don’t think your idea to bring in the mother was a good one. It just pushed him to kill.”

  “He was going to do it anyway, no matter what she or anyone said. He was just enjoying being the centre of attention.”

  “This isn’t over. There will be an investigation into your conduct.”

  “You’re forgetting I’m not a police officer anymore and it was your idea to let me talk to Seth.”

  Hillyard looked like he wanted to ram his fist through his face but he found it hard to argue. “Don’t disappear back to Glasgow because questions will need answering.”

  “It was the right call to make,” Brodie said as he stomped away.

  Hillyard stopped to throw him a terse nod before moving off to greet Sarah and Mark as they were escorted towards an ambulance, clinging onto each other, Lauren following, pale and shocked.

  “What deal did he want to make?” Clarke asked Brodie.

  “He wanted to exchange Cass for Mark. I told him no.”

  Both men looked at her watching the activity at the front of the house.

  “Good call,” said Clarke, before jogging up the drive to join his boss.

  Brodie walked over Cass. “Did you speak to Shenka?”

  “I did. He’s on his way here as we speak, loaded with weapons and anger.”

  “Good. Lauren’s going to need serious therapy after this and he is not the man to give it.”

  Sarah could hardly stand and when Hillyard tried to assist her she slapped his hands away and clung onto her husband, who didn’t appear to be in much better shape.

  “Can we go back to Glasgow now?” said Cass.

  “Hillyard said not to. There’ll be questions first.”

  “At least we’re in a better hotel.”

  “True.”

  “Don’t look so down Bossman. The bad guy’s dead and the good guys are okay.”

  “How American,” he said, voice faraway.

  “What’s up?”

  “Something feels all wrong.”

  “Like what?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Cass looked at Sarah and Mark being loaded into the ambulance, the frantic flash of cameras from press and gawpers gathered at the bottom of the road lighting up the scene, then back to Brodie. “We’re hanging around for a bit longer. Hopefully you’ll have figured out what it is by then.”

  “Maybe,” he said as he replayed recent events in his mind.

  CHAPTER 20

  Brodie and Cass at first weren’t permitted to see Sarah in hospital because they weren’t relatives, however they pestered the constable guarding her in A&E so much that he gave in and asked her if she’d see them. Sarah said yes so they were both allowed through.

  “Sarah, good to see you alive and kicking,” said Brodie.

  Her face was bruised, both eyes were swollen and she looked infinitely weary. She ran a trembling hand through her hair, her fringe flopping into her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here, I want to thank you for what you did.”

  “I don’t know if I actually did anything.”

  “Yes you did, you kept him talking then Maggie came along and wound him up.” Sarah paused as she started to shake. “He was going to shoot me just because he didn’t like me.”

  “But he didn’t. You’re safe and well and he’s dead.”

  Tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone killed before, it was horrible. There was blood everywhere.”

  Brodie didn’t know what to say to that so he asked, “how’s Mark?”

  “Devastated. His twin brother hurt him, threatened to kill him then he had to watch him die.”

  “Did he hurt him badly?”

  “He hit him a few times but that was it. Could have been much worse.”

  “So he’s being discharged too?”

  She nodded. “We’re going to stay at a hotel until we can find a house to rent, there’s no way either of us can set foot in that house ever again. We’ll sell it, we won’t be able to live there now. Do you think anybody would want to buy it after a psycho died there?”

  “Actually I think that will make it very appealing to a certain select market,” replied Brodie.

  Sarah looked appalled. “There are some weirdoes about.”

  “Loads of them,” said Brodie with good humour.

  “What will happen now?”

  “Well, you’ll be asked a lot of the same questions repeatedly by the police and you’ll be hounded by the media until something else big happens and they forget all about you. But you’ll get through it. At least there’ll be no court case.”

  “Thank you for telling it to me straight, I appreciate that,” she said with a sad smile. Her smile dropped, replaced by a frown. “Maggie only made things ten times worse. When Seth was talking to you he was quite calm but she wound him up. I’m sure she wanted him to shoot me.”

  Brodie decided not to comment because he thought she might be right. With Sarah gone there would have been no one to stop her seeing her grandkids.

  The door opened and Mark flew in, reaching out to take his wife’s hand, concern written all over his swollen face.

  “Sarah, are you alright? I wanted to come sooner but they insisted on checking me over first. Oh,” he said when he saw Brodie and Cass. “It’s you.”

  “Aye it is,” said Brodie cheerfully, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. “How are you Mark?”

  “I’ll be fine. Just a few bruises. I’m glad it’s over,” he said quietly as he extended his hand to Brodie. “I want to thank you for what you did. If it hadn’t been for you I think Seth would have shot us both much sooner.”

  “You must be devastated Mr Creegan,” said Cass.

  He looked round at her with surprise, having forgotten she was even there. “I am. Despite all the things Seth was, he was still my twin brother. But, to be honest, we were never close, not even when we were kids. He was always too dark for my liking.”

  “He killed your dad?” said Brodie.

  When Mark nodded Brodie was crestfallen. He didn’t like it. Too neat, too simple.

  “I took the blame because, with his record, he wouldn’t have got away with the self-defence plea, even though it would have been true,” said Mark. “In that instance he had genuinely been protecting himself, our dad was very brutal. Now we know just how much his activities affected Seth.”

  “Did you suspect Seth was The Carver?” said Cass.

  “Of course I did but I did my best to ignore it, I simply couldn’t go through all that again. By the way, if you tell the police about Seth being the one who killed Dad I’ll deny it. I don’t want all that dredging up again.”

  “I see no reason to tell them,” replied Brodie. “But why tell me?”

  “I know it’s been bugging you and I feel we owe you after what you did for us today.”

  Rather than the satisfaction Brodie always experienced when a mystery was solved, he felt only disappointment. Seth did it all, big surprise. When he glanced at Cass he saw her eyes dance, she knew him too well.

  “Right, we’ll leave you to it,” said Brodie.

  “Do we pay you?” said Sarah, causing Mark to frown.

  “No, my client will take care of that.”

  “Thank you Brodie and you too Cass,” said Sarah.

  “You’re welcome,” replied Brodie while Cass simply nodded. “Goodbye then.”

  “Bye,” said Sarah and Mark in unison.

  As they turned to go Brodie looked back at them, Mark grasping Sarah’s hand and gazing at her adoringly while she smiled back at him. Something wasn’t right.

  “What do you think?” Brodie asked Cass as they strolled toward
s the exit.

  “I think Her Majesty will soon forget all the bad stuff that happened today and will carry on with her flaky, pointless life.”

  “Even after what she’s been through you still can’t stand her?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s not dead but she really is a waste of space.”

  “You’re a harsh critic.”

  “But an honest one. Come on, what’s bugging you?”

  “What makes you think something is?”

  “Because your eyes have gone all sherry cask.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call it that, you know I hate whisky.”

  “It’s the best way to describe what they do, so go on, spill.”

  “I saw something in Sarah’s cubicle that wasn’t right.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, that’s the problem.”

  “I know what was wrong, it was all too saccharine in there,” said Cass, screwing up her nose.

  Brodie liked it when she did that, it looked cute. He forced himself back to the matter in hand, to analyse what he’d seen, but the more he thought about it the more it eluded him.

  “Try not to think about it too much, you’ll drive it right out of your head,” said Cass. “Just relax and it’ll come back to you.”

  “God only knows when that’ll be, we might all be old or dead by then.”

  “Your brain works quicker than that Boss, sometimes anyway.”

  “Ha fucking ha. Sorry,” he added when an elderly lady carrying a newspaper and a bag of grapes glared at him for swearing. “Happy now?” he said to Cass. “You just got me into trouble.”

  “I’m sure she won’t spank your wee botty,” she smiled.

  He wished she wouldn’t say things like that.

  Hillyard was pissed off with Brodie, he made that perfectly clear when they arrived at the police station. When Cass pointed out that he had been in charge of the scene and it was his choice to take Brodie’s advice he soon went quiet. Clarke was just relieved The Carver was gone and couldn’t hurt another woman. He was positively buoyant and flirted shamelessly with Cass, which just irritated Brodie even more.

  “You’re happy with the result?” Brodie demanded of him.

  “Well, yeah. The creep’s dead so I might finally start sleeping at night and, despite what he says, Hillyard is pleased too.”

  “He doesn’t look it,” said Brodie.

  “He never does. His face always looks like that.”

  “Have you found Emily Spencer yet?”

  Clarke’s smile dropped. “No but we will. Those blond hairs we found in the storage unit belonged to her so he definitely took her.”

  Brodie’s stomach plummeted. If he’d looked more closely at Seth’s movements on the tracking device just a bit sooner they might have been in time to find her there.

  “Do you know who Seth’s accomplice is yet?”

  Clarke was positively gloomy now. “No but I repeat, we will and we’ll make them tell us where Emily is.” He looked to Cass. “So, are you off back up to Glasgow or are you staying around for a bit?”

  “We’re free to go then?” she said.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” he replied with a smile.

  “We need to get home,” said Brodie briskly.

  “Shame,” said Clarke. “I was hoping to take you out for dinner.”

  “Thanks for the offer but you’re really not my type,” said Brodie.

  “I was talking to Cass.” Clarke looked to her. “When do you leave?”

  “We don’t have to go back till the morning, do we Boss? It’s a bit late to start the drive now.”

  Brodie looked into those big, beautiful eyes and sighed inwardly. He knew if he objected he’d make himself look ridiculous and Clarke would probably clock onto his little crush. Better to be the bigger man, at least, he was going to try to be. “I suppose not, but we will need to leave early in the morning so don’t be out too late.”

  “I won’t Boss,” she said, flashing him a smile.

  “I’m just about done here. Do you like Italian?” Clarke asked Cass.

  “No.”

  “Oh,” said Clarke, colouring.

  “But I love Chinese.”

  Clarke’s smile returned. “Chinese it is then.” He held his arm out to her, which she accepted.

  “See you later Boss,” Cass called over her shoulder as she and Clarke walked out of the main doors together.

  “Bye Cass,” he called back. It was difficult for him to speak because his throat had formed itself into a jealous knot. He wished he could get over his pitiable crush, it made him feel so stupid.

  When he saw the butch female desk sergeant giving him the eye, her upper lip covered with thick dark hair, he made a swift exit and returned alone to his hotel room. He intended to lose himself in another book about Bible John but his mind was restless and kept wandering from Cass and Clarke and what they were getting up to together then back to that scene in Sarah’s A&E cubicle. What had been so wrong there? He analysed it from every angle but came up with nothing. However his thoughts were continually disrupted by images of Cass rolling about in bed with that Manc bastard. What was so special about him? Sod all that he could see. Mr Average.

  “You’re a sad old bastard Brodie,” he muttered to himself.

  He was almost glad when his phone rang, providing a distraction from these gloomy thoughts. “Hello Pete.”

  “I saw everything on the news. I thought you’d sound more bloody cheerful, it’s a good result.”

  “No it’s not. Something’s not right.”

  “What?”

  “Wish I knew, it’s driving me mad.

  “What does Cass think?”

  “Who knows? She’s on a date with DS Clarke,” he replied, spitting out the man’s name.

  “Want me to see what I can dig up on him?”

  “No, he’s okay I suppose. He’ll treat her nice and if he doesn’t she’ll kick his bollocks up into his neck.”

  “Try not to sound so pissed off about it.”

  “He’s a prick.”

  “So is everyone who fancies Cass, according to you. You’re never going to get anywhere with her. Why don’t you find yourself some nice wee piece to settle down with?”

  “And enjoy married life like you?” Brodie cringed. “Sorry Pete, I didn’t mean that.”

  “Sarky fucker,” he grumbled.

  “Has Alison moved out?”

  “She has,” he said miserably. “As she was leaving she said she’s going for custody of Oliver.”

  “Shit, that’s just fucking spite. She hates that stinky old dog.”

  “Thank Christ we don’t have any kids. Apparently I’ve put her off men and coppers for life.”

  “No offence but that’s probably best for men and coppers.”

  Pete chuckled. “I wasted eleven years on that bitch. Take my advice Brodie and don’t waste your life on a relationship that’s never going to work. Cass thinks of you as a friend, nothing more. Get over it and find someone else.”

  “I thought we were talking about the Creegans?”

  “Yeah, sorry. So what’s bugging you?”

  “I don’t know,” he exclaimed, frustrated.

  “Give it a bit, it’ll come to you.”

  “What if I don’t have time to wait?”

  “Maybe you should fucking chill a bit,” barked Pete.

  “Alright, take it easy.”

  “Take it easy? You’re not the one who’s had the dragon queen coming into your house, threatening to take your dog and steal your fucking x-box.”

  “Sorry Pete, I know how much your x-box means to you, even if you are forty seven.”

  “It’s the only fun I get these days. When are you back in Glasgow?”

  “Tomorrow, if Cass can tear herself off Clarke. Want to meet up for a bevvy? We can drown our sorrows together.”

  “Sounds good, if I can get away from the station. It’s a fucking madhouse. You do
still owe me for running that check on the Porsche.”

  “It’s a date.” Brodie grimaced. “Urgh, you know what I mean.”

  “I do, thank God. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Brodie hung up and froze when he heard voices in the corridor - a man’s and a woman’s. He crept to the door and pressed his ear to it. Yes, it was undoubtedly Cass’s voice. Peeking through the spy hole he saw two figures at the door opposite his, kissing. Pain lanced through Brodie’s chest and he had the wild urge to rush out there and interrupt the moment, but he didn’t. However he couldn’t drag himself away from the door, it was like watching a car crash.

  “Don’t invite him in, don’t invite him in,” he whispered to himself, eye glued to the spy hole.

  His heart sank when Cass took Clarke’s hand and led him inside, the door closing behind them.

  Brodie rested his forehead against his own door. “Dammit.”

  Brodie dreaded seeing Clarke come down with Cass for breakfast the next morning, but to his relief she was alone.

  “Morning Boss,” she said chirpily, taking the seat opposite him and buttering herself a slice of toast.

  “How did your date go last night?” he said with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

  “Good. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “For a Chinese then onto a bar for a couple of drinks and then…”

  “Then what?”

  “And then none of your business,” she replied, waggling her eyebrows mischievously.

  “He’s not still here, is he?” said Brodie.

  “No, his shift started at seven so he had to leave early to change.”

  “You like him?”

  “I do. He’s fun and interesting.” Her expression darkened. “You’ve not run any checks on him, have you?”

  “I don’t need to. We saw his house, we know he lives alone and I think he’s okay.”

  “A compliment? Wow,” she grinned.

  After she’d ordered tea and more toast from the hovering waiter Brodie plucked up the courage to ask, “are you going to see him again?”

  “I don’t think so. He lives too far away and I can’t be bothered with a long distance relationship, they never work. Shame though because I like him. It’s not often I feel that comfortable with a man.”