Only the Brave (A DS Allie Shenton Novel Book 3)

by Mel Sherratt

  Betty made the best Sunday roast dinners and always made a fuss of everyone, regardless of their ages. There was always a sit-down meal, presents on birthdays and a stocking filled with delightful goodies hanging from the back of everyone’s chair on Christmas day. Family and tradition were very important to her. She’d even taken Kirstie under her wing. They got on really well, often sharing memories over numerous mugs of tea. Kirstie hardly made time to call to see her but when she did she always wondered why she didn’t make more of an effort. It was usually fun.

  Ryan had told her that Betty had been devastated when he’d separated from Nicole, too. Betty had thought they had staying power; she’d been certain they would last out. Not like Jordan. He’d married Leoni when he was twenty, despite his parents’ wishes for them to wait a while. He’d known her for only six months before marriage had been suggested. News came soon after that she was pregnant. Betty had shown Kirstie umpteen photographs of her grandson, Liam. She’d complained to her often that she never saw enough of him, not in a bitter way, but regretfully.

  As they drew level with the house, she pointed to a Toyota Arius parked in the driveway. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, that’s Nicole’s car! What the hell is she doing here?’

  ‘She knew Jordan for far longer than you.’ Ryan parked next to it. ‘She’s entitled to be here as much as you are. And besides, it means you won’t have to comfort Mum. I’m sure you’d find that hard to do, you being the grieving girlfriend.’

  ‘Well, she’d better not open her mouth and say something she shouldn’t. If she says one more bitchy thing about me, I’ll close the bloody thing for her with one punch.’

  ‘Just keep a civil tongue in your mouth for a few hours,’ Ryan warned. ‘This is about my mum. She doesn’t need anything else to worry about.’

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do!’ Kirstie snapped indignantly as she got out of the car.

  A woman she didn’t recognise opened the door. She wore a blouse tied at the neck, a pencil skirt and court shoes. Kirstie thought she looked like a secretary, wondered if she was with the funeral director, although she hadn’t seen a car outside.

  ‘Mr Johnson,’ she addressed Ryan first. ‘I’m PC Maria Temple. I’m a police family liaison officer.’

  Kirstie tutted her annoyance as Ryan shook her hand. Maria held it out to her afterwards but she ignored it and went into the house.

  ‘I hope you can look after my mum,’ she heard Ryan say, his tone one of politeness rather than contempt. She rolled her eyes.

  ‘Of course.’ Maria touched his arm. ‘I’m really sorry for your loss. I’ll make this as comfortable as I can for you all.’

  All of a sudden Kirstie felt an almost irresistible urge to shout out that he was a hypocrite. Let everyone know how much of a doting brother he really was. How would his mum feel if she found out the truth? Instead she took a deep breath and held her tongue. Shoulders back, she went into the living room. It was a room she loved and hated in equal measures. According to Jordan, its decor had been the same for over twenty years until their father died. Clive had painted over the same wallpaper every twelve months with magnolia paint to freshen it up. Now that the walls were plastered with large flowers and the settee covered in chintzy fabric, it was much brighter but still it seemed claustrophobic to her.

  Nicole was sitting on the settee next to Betty, all teary eyes and streaked makeup. Her nails had been manicured, her long blonde hair freshly washed and straightened. Her clothes were black but stylish, high heels finishing the outfit. Kirstie had to admit that she always tried to keep herself smart and trendy but all she could see was mutton trying to dress as lamb.

  As soon as Ryan came into the room, Nicole ran into his arms and burst into tears.

  ‘You know he was like my little brother,’ she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. ‘I can’t believe he’s gone. Have the police said anything else yet?’

  ‘It’s too early,’ said Ryan, comforting her.

  Kirstie watched the scene unfolding with disbelief. Her eyes on Ryan made him turn his head for a moment and she glared at him. She folded her arms.

  ‘Surely they should know something by now?’ Nicole wiped her eyes with a tissue. ‘Don’t you have any ideas at all?’ she asked Maria, who had come in behind Ryan.

  Maria shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you as soon as I know anything.’

  ‘At least it’s stopped raining,’ Kirstie said for want of something to add. ‘It means evidence might not get washed away easily.’

  ‘What are you – CSI Miami?’ Ryan barked. ‘Horatio Cain would be proud of you.’

  ‘Ryan,’ Betty cried. ‘There’s no need to attack poor Kirstie like that. She’s grieving as much as you.’

  ‘Sorry, Mum.’ Ryan bent down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  ‘It’s unbearable. How could someone just take him away from us like that? Leave him to die on a pathway. Why would anyone want to do that? He never did anyone any harm. Why, why . . .’

  As she burst into tears, too, Kirstie couldn’t take any more.

  ‘I’ll make a drink,’ she said.

  In the kitchen, she sighed. She’d hoped that she could visit in peace and disappear as quickly as possible. She needed to get geared up for a call from the police, rehearse what she had been repeating to herself over the past few days.

  Behind her, the door opened and Ryan came in. As he stood looking out of the window on to the garden, she reached for his shoulder, turned him towards her and pressed herself into his chest. For a moment she felt him give in as he hugged her tightly.

  ‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ he said. ‘I was upset.’

  ‘It’s understandable,’ she soothed. ‘But we can get through this. No one really knows what happened.’

  Ryan gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Once this is sorted, then we can come out in the open about things. Okay?’

  Kirstie nodded. ‘We just need to keep our cool, get our stories straight at the end of every day and we’ll be in the clear before you know.’

  ‘I hope so. I don’t need the police sniffing around at every opportunity. They’ll want to know everything – the less they find out the better.’

  ‘Let’s just forget for now and look after each other.’ She smiled up at him.

  The door opened and they moved apart. When Ryan saw it was Nicole, he left the room.

  As she filled the kettle with water, Kirstie turned her back to Nicole, hoping that the woman would take a hint. They hadn’t liked each other since they’d met, when Jordan had first introduced her to the family as his girlfriend. She reckoned Nicole was jealous of her age and her power. Her father’s reputation preceded her.

  Nicole marched across the room, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. ‘Need a hand?’ her tone was snide. ‘I’m sure the other one has spent far too long down my husband’s trousers.’

  Kirstie turned sharply. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Oh, come off it.’ Nicole folded her arms as she stood in front of her. ‘You might fool Betty but it’s clear to me that you’re sleeping with Ryan.’ She laughed harshly. ‘Never had him down for the guy who’d want a youngster though. Still, I suppose even he would make an exception for Terry Ryder’s daughter.’

  Kirstie snarled at her. ‘Keep your mouth shut and your opinions to yourself or I’ll make sure you regret it.’

  ‘Don’t threaten me.’ Nicole wasn’t afraid to look her in the eye. ‘I know how much Ryan wanted to get in with you. This is just a business proposition to him. He’s using you like he used Jordan.’

  Kirstie took hold of Nicole’s forearm and squeezed it tightly, relishing the look on her face when she could see the pain she was causing.

  ‘You seem to have a smart head on your shoulders,’ she told her. ‘Just make sure it stays that way or else I’ll ensure that you’re cut off and you won’t have a penny
.’ She sneered. ‘Now go back and comfort the old dear, there’s a love.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me,’ Nicole seethed. ‘I know too much about you.’

  ‘I might be younger than you but please don’t make the mistake of taking me for a fool,’ Kirstie countered. ‘I’ll do too much to seek my revenge, starting with the bloke who’s sharing your bed with you at the moment.’

  Nicole paled.

  ‘You think I don’t know what you’re getting up to?’ Kirstie shook her head slowly. ‘Just remember, I have people everywhere. There’s nothing about you that I don’t know. So like I said,’ she touched her lips with an index finger, ‘keep your mouth shut. Otherwise, I’ll make sure he’s forced to take everything from you.’ Her smile was cruel. ‘You know I’d do that, don’t you?’

  ‘I’d be very careful, if I were you,’ Nicole hit back. ‘You might think you’re okay because Ryan is under your roof, perhaps in your bed, but you are nothing but expendable. I know him far better than you. Once he’s had what it is he’s after, he won’t give you another thought. So don’t come threatening me, little miss. I’m too old and too experienced to suffer fools gladly.’

  ‘You’re too old to keep your husband happy. From what I heard, it was hard for him to get it up once a month with you. Whereas me, I –’

  ‘You cheeky bitch.’ Nicole raised a hand.

  Kirstie grabbed it before it reached its target. ‘Don’t even think about it. I’ll have –’

  ‘What the hell’s going on in here?’ Ryan whispered loudly as he came into the room. ‘We can hear you in the living room. Pipe down and show some respect.’

  Kirstie glared at Nicole, making sure she looked away first.

  ‘She started it.’ Nicole’s words seemed childish.

  Ryan shook his head and went back into the other room.

  Kirstie smirked. That was one thing she’d learned from her mother. She’d never let any woman get the upper hand.

  2.30 P.M.

  Back at Harrison House, Allie followed Perry as he marched up the stairs.

  ‘How are we playing this?’ he asked.

  ‘There’s no point in taking her down to the station just yet.’ Allie went through the door as he held it open for her. ‘For starters, I’d rather not bring her to the attention of the media scrum unless we have to arrest her. Let’s see why she gave us a different name and assess the situation then. We can get uniform to take a statement again afterwards.’

  ‘Interesting, though. Maybe you were right about the cold.’

  Allie nodded. ‘Let’s check it out with her first.’ She knocked on the door. ‘Hello . . . Sophie,’ she said when it was opened. ‘It’s Sophie Nicklin, isn’t it?’

  Sophie nodded, bursting into tears as she let them in.

  When they were all seated in the living room, Allie looked at the younger woman. She had that wide-eyed look of an animal about to be mowed down with nothing to do but accept her fate.

  ‘Am I in a lot of trouble?’ Sophie asked. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Why did you tell us your name was Rebecca Adams?’

  ‘It was the first thing that came into my head. I – I panicked. I was shocked that Jordan was dead and I wasn’t thinking straight. It is Jordan, isn’t it?’

  ‘We’ve yet to release a formal statement but we believe so.’

  More tears fell.

  ‘Why did you think it was him?’ Allie asked after giving Sophie a moment to compose herself.

  ‘I didn’t – I just assumed. And then when I called him, I saw someone pick up his phone near to the path and I . . .’

  ‘You do know that you’re not stored under his phone as Sophie?’

  ‘I didn’t know for sure.’ She started to pick at the skin around her nails. ‘He lives with Kirstie Ryder. Everyone knows how powerful she is.’

  ‘She isn’t.’ Allie bristled at the remark.

  ‘Well, that’s what everyone around here thinks.’

  ‘Everyone?’

  ‘My friend Stella says that Kirstie is a law unto herself, and she can do anything because of who her father is. They also say that if you go after her fella, she’ll scar you for life.’

  ‘Who’s they, Sophie?’

  ‘Stella. Her husband knows her too. He works at Flynn’s, I think, although I’m not sure what he does.’

  ‘How long have you known Stella?’

  ‘Eight months, since I moved in. I –’ She looked up with tears in her eyes. ‘I don’t know anyone else.’

  ‘Not even from work?’

  ‘No, I work from home now. I did a bit of temping when I first arrived, for Holdcroft’s Motors on Leek Road. I made a few friends in the office while I was there and went out a couple of times. That was when I met Jordan at Flynn’s. But I was only there for six weeks and when I left, no one kept in touch. They were just work colleagues, really. That’s why when Jordan took my phone number . . . Well, I was lonely.’

  ‘How long had you been seeing him?’

  ‘About six months. He’d come here after he’d finished work, early in the mornings. It suited me. With being self-employed now, I sometimes work late into the early hours.’

  ‘What do you do?’

  ‘I design book covers. There’s a huge market for it online.’

  ‘We can see from the phone records that he often called you late at night. Were you worried when he didn’t ring?’

  ‘Yes, that’s why I sent him a message.’ She looked up, fresh tears forming.

  Although she had to keep an open mind, Allie suddenly felt sympathy for the woman sitting across from her. She knew from experience that people do stupid things when they’re in shock and Sophie Nicklin’ tears seemed genuine to her, unlike Kirstie Ryder’s earlier that morning. The young woman sitting by her side was raw with grief. She’d also confessed as soon as she had seen them. Maybe she had given a false name because she was scared of repercussions. She didn’t seem to be hiding anything.

  ‘Do you think anyone knew about the affair?’ asked Perry.

  ‘Jordan never said.’ Sophie paused to wipe tears from her face. ‘We thought we’d kept it quiet, but can’t you see? He was murdered because of me.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Allie glanced at Perry, saw that he was frowning too.

  ‘If he hadn’t been coming to see me, he wouldn’t have been on that path.’ Sophie’s breath caught. ‘And if he wasn’t on that path, then no one . . . no one would have . . . do you have any idea who did it?’

  ‘Nothing we can release yet, I’m afraid,’ Allie continued. ‘Did he always cut through from the main road?’

  ‘Yes, he parked his car in one of the streets off Ford Green Road. He’d use the path and walk along the side of the building to the main entrance. Less chance of being seen, I suppose.’ Sophie looked at them both in turn. ‘Did he suffer?’

  Allie shook her head. ‘I can’t be certain but he would most probably have been unconscious within a minute or so.’ She chewed on her lip. ‘Sophie, when we asked you earlier if you had been to the scene of the crime last night, and you said no, did you lie about that, too?’

  ‘No, that wasn’t me. I waited up for Jordan but I fell asleep on the sofa. I woke up just before half past three and then I went to bed. I – I must have just missed him because I saw Rita out walking her dog just as I closed my curtains. I only lied about my name because I was scared.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘Being attacked by Kirstie Ryder. Jordan and I might have loved each other, but he was hers.’

  Once out on the walkway when they had finished with their questions, Allie sighed loudly. ‘Those weren’t crocodile tears,’ she said to Perry. ‘I wish we could tell her it was more than likely nothing at all to do with her.’

  ‘We don’t know that for certain,’ said Perry.
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br />   ‘I know. But it’s possible that if someone knew Jordan would be there, they might have figured it was the perfect place to carry out the murder.’

  ‘Which means it could be someone local? Someone in these flats?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Allie. ‘We need to rule out who couldn’t have been in the vicinity because they were elsewhere.’ She looked down to the ground, could see that Nick had arrived to address the press later at the news conference. She glanced along the walkway and on the walkways overhead. Lots of people still hanging around, despite the drizzle in the air and the dark drawing in.

  But Allie had another black cloud hanging over her head right now. She needed to ring Mark before it was too late.

  3.00 P.M.

  Allie felt a sharp stab of apprehension as she heard Mark’s voice again.

  ‘You’re there for a late one, aren’t you?’ he said.

  His annoyance was clear in his tone. And, although she knew he wouldn’t be happy when he found out that she was going to be here for the night, she was more unsure of what she was about to say next. ‘I’m afraid so. We’re just gathering everything together for the press conference.’

  She heard him sigh. ‘I might go out for a pint with Chris.’

  ‘Great.’ Her tone was fun. ‘Have one for me.’

  ‘Are you going to be on the TV?’

  ‘I’ll probably be in the background. Look, there’s something I need to tell you.’

  ‘Christ, you don’t know him as well, do you?’

  ‘No, this is nothing like before!’

  ‘Good! I know Stoke is a small city but it was getting a bit ridiculous.’

  Allie relented when she heard his tone soften. Well, in for a penny . . .

  ‘You will have heard of him. Or more, to the point, you will have heard of the nightclub that he runs. It’s Jordan Johnson, from Flynn’s.’

  ‘That super cool young dude who was in The Sentinel about a month ago? Sitting on some flash car as he talked about a new wing opening?’

  ‘Yes. He was in a terrible way. Most neighbours have been pretty friendly with us today but there is a growing atmosphere of . . . something. There’s more I need to tell you.’ She paused for the briefest of moments before blurting it out. ‘He was living with Kirstie Ryder.’