What the hell was going on?
One of the paramedics was cutting at Helen’s top, pulling the material apart, and pressing translucent patches against her skin. The other was breathing into her mouth, and pressing something large and white against her heart. The white quickly turned red as the blood continued to flow.
Megan watched on, desperately sad to see Helen in such critical condition. It hadn’t been all that long since she’d treated the wound on Megan’s leg, and now it was her in need of care. But Megan was powerless to do anything to help.
The detective picked up the gun using a biro to lift it, before dropping it into a clear bag, and resting it on the large mahogany desk. She wondered how she could have missed the steps that had led to such a maelstrom.
The detective was looking over at her, and looked as though he wanted to speak, but two uniformed officers entered the room and immediately caught his attention. He took them to one side, whispering and pointing at parts of the room, before his gaze fell back on her and they both joined him in watching her. She didn’t like the feeling of being the centre of their attention, and as the paramedics continued to fuss over Helen, Megan wished she could be back on that cloud with Rob.
Jake approached and pushed her wheelchair over, before perching on the edge of the couch. ‘I’m going to have to take you down to the station. We can go in my car if that’s okay with you?’
‘What about Helen? What’s happened to her? Will she be okay?’
He didn’t answer, but his eyes told her everything she needed to know.
Gripping one of the arms of the chair, Megan shuffled onto the waiting cushion and allowed him to wheel her to the lift before the two of them descended.
‘My sister-in-law is parked nearby. She’ll be waiting for me to call her,’ Megan said suddenly, remembering how and why she had come to the practice.
‘You can call her from the car,’ Jake said, seemingly anxious to get her away from the scene and into safe custody.
‘What’s going on, detective? Please tell me.’
‘I’ll explain everything in the car,’ he said with a steely determination she hadn’t expected.
SIXTY-NINE
The lock on the cell door scraped as it was cranked open, and the door pulled clear. Megan Hopkirk was laid flat out on the blue mattress, her face still stained with the tears that had flowed so freely on the car journey back to the station. Jake had spared no detail about Helen’s confession and instruction for Megan to shoot her. The poor woman had no memory of anything from the moment she’d arrived at the Better Health practice, and Jake couldn’t help but think that was probably kinder.
Helen had died at the scene, the blood loss just too great, and her body not willing to fight on. As Jake had helplessly tried to keep her alive, she had whispered for him to stop. She had made peace with her actions, and her new battle was to locate Andres in the afterlife and protect his soul for eternity. Jake wasn’t a believer: death meant nothing; all there was, was the present.
Jake offered the tray of breakfast towards Megan, but she made no move to sit up. For a woman who had lost everything fewer than three months ago, she had now reached rock bottom, and Jake had no idea how to help her climb back out. Resting the tray on the vacant chair, he leaned into the wall to aid his own exhaustion, and so Megan could see him without needing to adjust her position.
‘We won’t be pressing charges,’ he said. ‘I’ve had it cleared with the Chief Super. I know that probably doesn’t mean a lot right now, but our conclusion is you couldn’t have reacted any differently in the circumstances. Of course, we’ll need you to sign the statement you made last night.’
When they’d first arrived at the station, Jake had explained that he would need to provisionally arrest her, owing to the fact that she had been the one to fire the gun, and Megan hadn’t uttered a word of complaint. Even as her clothes had once again been taken for forensic analysis, she had remained muted, following the instructions she was given, and finally retiring to the cell, where she’d spent a largely-sleepless night.
Jake had worked through the night, keen to limit the amount of time she would spend in custody. He’d managed to grab Tosh as the DCI was leaving and had done his best to fill him in, leaving Harry to oversee the custody arrangements. Tosh had listened quietly, allowing Jake to explain the connections between the cases, and only asked questions when he was finished. It had been Tosh’s idea to drag Chief Superintendent Tillman from her bed, and she hadn’t looked amused arriving with no makeup, and in jeans and a top. But to her credit, she had paid attention and agreed with their conclusions. Collating the evidence to prove that Helen – Iris Xavier – had acted alone would take time, but there was no suggestion that Megan was anything but an unwitting pawn in what had happened. And had it not been for her subconscious processing shards of information heard through the practice’s ventilation system, the two suicides would never have been considered as anything else, and Iris Xavier would never have been considered a suspect in Janice Walker’s murder.
‘Dr Patel is going to come and see you,’ Jake continued, still trying to make eye contact. ‘And your poor sister-in-law has been camped in the waiting area all night. She’s eager to get you home and changed into some of your own clothes.’
Megan stared up at the ceiling. ‘When I was in the trance I saw Rob calling to me; at least I thought it was him, but it must have been your voice breaking through.’
Jake’s cheeks flushed. ‘I’m sorry for slapping you so hard. It was all I could think to do to snap you out of it. She had you under some control.’
There was no visual sign of the strike to her cheek, but it still tingled. ‘When Rob was there, I had a flash back to the night he died. All this time I’ve been blaming myself for leaving the phone charger plugged in, but I know now I definitely unplugged it and put it away. When Rob left the flat, he said he hadn’t called to say he was running late because his battery was dead. It was him who left the charger in the kitchen socket. It doesn’t bring me any peace, but I think now that’s what he wanted me to see: that it wasn’t my fault. I would give absolutely anything to go back and change what happened that night. I wish I had just bit my lip when he arrived home, instead of laying into him. Maybe then he would have proposed and we wouldn’t have gone to bed separately and the fire wouldn’t have started. It’s amazing how one little moment can cause such devastation. Like with Carlos; had he stayed true to his wedding vows, maybe he, Iris and Andres would still be happy together.’
Jake let out a tired sigh. ‘When you’re ready I’ll have the custody officer process you out. And if you need anything in the coming days, don’t hesitate to call me. And I mean that, Megan.’
She looked at him, fresh tears in her eyes and nodded. ‘At least one good thing came out of all this.’
He straightened, confusion cloaking his face. ‘And that is?’
Megan wiggled her toes.
Jake couldn’t fight the enormous yawn as he descended in the lift. It was only two flights of stairs, but his legs refused to comply. The doors opened and he headed along the corridor, pushing through the double doors and out into the cool air. The storm clouds were gone, replaced by crisp blue sky, but the wind-chill reminded him it was still only spring.
‘Daddy!’ Gabby yelled, as she spotted and ran towards him, her arms open wide.
He dropped to one knee and embraced her, lifting her up and spinning her around in the air.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked Isabella, as she joined them.
She smiled coquettishly. ‘You’ve been working all night; we thought you might want to join us for breakfast.’
‘I’m having sausage and egg,’ Gabby declared proudly, squeezing his neck tighter.
‘What about school?’ he challenged.
‘Duh, it’s Saturday,’ Gabby quickly fired back, rolling her eyes as her mother frequently did.
Jake had totally lost track of the days, but accepted her word
s without challenge. He had no appetite, but one more cup of coffee wouldn’t do any harm.
He lowered Gabby back to the ground, gripping her hand tightly as they moved off towards Isabella’s car.
‘Mummy told me your news,’ Gabby said excitedly, swinging his arm playfully.
‘My news?’ Jake questioned.
‘That you and Mummy aren’t getting divorced, and that you’re going to try for another baby. I can’t wait to have a little brother or sister. I don’t know if I’d prefer a brother or sister. Boys are dirty, but a girl might try and steal my clothes and toys. What would you prefer, Daddy?’
Jake didn’t answer, instead glaring at Isabella. And as much as he wanted to berate her for the emotional blackmail, and for using Gabby’s enthusiasm as a tool to trap him, he thought back to Megan’s words, and bit his lip instead.
THE END
Coming 31 January 2020
SNAPSHOT
Grieving photographer Hannah Davenport is still recovering from a vicious home invasion that stole her husband John, and her memory. Moving to a new city, she is desperate to put the past behind her, and rebuild her life.
But sometimes the past doesn’t want to be buried.
When she keeps seeing John’s face in new places, Hannah starts to question everything about her previous life. And when tidying away his possessions, she uncovers a memory stick with a video file John left for her on the night he died. His chilling message suggests his death may not have been as straight forward as the police previously determined.
John’s brother Patrick warns her not to go digging into matters that no longer concern her, but Hannah has never been one to avoid conflict. Returning to the home she fled, Hannah comes face-to-face with people who paint a different picture of John, leaving her in no doubt that she can’t trust anything she recalls of the events before that night.
And then she finds a photograph that confirms nothing is as she remembers...
Who can you trust when nobody wants you to know the truth?
SNAPSHOT is a dark and twisting psychological thriller that will appeal to fans of C L Taylor, Louise Jensen and Gillian Flynn.
A MESSAGE FROM STEPHEN
Thank you for taking the time to read DÉJÀ VU. If you enjoyed it, please post a review and share the story with your friends. If a book is written to entertain, then the reader is the target audience, and I feel honoured that you chose one of my books to read.
Please don’t be afraid to contact me via Facebook or Twitter to let me know what you thought of the story. There’s nothing more joyful for an author than hearing from a reader who loved one of their books (believe me!). I really do respond to every message.
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Thank you again for reading my book. I hope to hear from you soon.
Stephen Edger
Website: www.stephenedger.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorStephenEdger
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I’d like to say special thanks to the following people, without whom DÉJÀ VU wouldn’t be in existence today:
Parashar Ramanuj, my best friend for more than twenty years and my first port of call whenever I have strange questions about medical procedures and body parts. His knowledge of psychological illness was essential for this story, and any errors are my misinterpretation of what he explained.
Joanne Taylor who has been reading and providing feedback on my novels since the beginning
I’d also like to thank my incredibly supportive family, in particular my wife Hannah, who puts up with my mind wandering mid-conversation as a new plot twist strikes.
Final thanks must go to every reader of my books for encouraging me not to give up and to follow my dream.
ALSO BY STEPHEN EDGER
The DI Kate Matthews Series
Dead to Me
Dying Day
Cold Heart
The PI Johnson Carmichael Series
Trespass
Fragments
Downfall
The Cadre Series
Targeted
Pursuit
Endgame
Standalones
Snatched
Blackout
Then He Was Gone
Little Girl Gone
Till Death Do Us Part
Tell No Lies
Copyright Notice
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author
Copyright © 2019 Stephen Edger
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