Detective Amanda Lacey Box Set
Page 81
“In other words, don’t be despondent about it. You all worked diligently with the case and the shooting of DS Riley, who’s back at home again now, by the way.” Amanda paused for breath. She saw that Dupin was stood behind her now, listening to her every word.
“Would you like to add anything, sir?” She stepped aside and let him take over.
“I think DS Lacey has covered it nicely. If Day was behind it, he’ll slip up one day, and drug squad will be ready to swoop, mark my words. But excellent work anyway. Excellent.” There was a pregnant pause as all eyes remained on Dupin, waiting for him to go on, but it became obvious he hadn’t anything else to say. Eventually, chairs and bodies turned back to their desks, and a low hum of conversation resumed.
As they walked back to their desks, Jack looked at Amanda and gently shook his head in defeat. He hated it when a case ended on such a low. In a quiet whisper, he said, “I’d like to know who the leak was. I’m not going to forget this. If it’s someone in this room, I’ll find them. They’ll not do it again.”
Amanda was taken aback by the vehemence in his voice and couldn’t help but wonder why. Why this case? What was so special about it or the slippery Wilfred Day? No doubt he’d tell her when he’d calmed down – she’d wait until then.
“I hear you, Jack,” she said, then added, “Listen, why don’t we all get take-out from Wong’s tonight? You, me and Ruth. Sweet-and-sour pork balls will cheer us up, eh? I’m buying.”
Amanda knew Jack couldn’t resist a meal from Wong’s. She smiled as he accepted the invite, though it was obvious he was still annoyed.
“Sounds perfect,” he said. “I’ll bring a bottle. Or two.”
“Well, if you’re bringing two, you’d better bring your toothbrush or be prepared to leave your car and taxi it home. I suspect between us we’ll easily polish them off. Come round for seven o’clock?”
She smiled brightly, trying to lighten his mood. It must have worked. Jack smiled back.
“Great, and I can check out your decorating standards at the same time.”
She knew he was only joking. His idea of decorating was re-gluing loose wallpaper edges back down so that they’d be good for another ten years. She checked her watch. It was nearly time to leave for the evening anyway. She called Ruth and told her they had a guest for dinner.
Chapter Eighty-Six
One week later
They were all in attendance. Sam’s parents, Anika, Victoria and Jasmine, and a couple of aunts and uncles alongside supporting one another as the casket was lowered into the ground. Duncan watched on with Rochelle and Rick, his two best friends in the world, beside him for support on what promised to be an exceptionally sad day.
Rick placed his arm around his friend’s shoulder; Rochelle took his right hand in hers as the service drew to an end and handfuls of soil were sprinkled on top of the casket. Slowly the crowd dispersed, most in search of sherry and sandwiches at a nearby pub. Had either of them been paying attention, they’d have noticed the hulking blond man in the long caramel-coloured coat at the edge of the cemetery watching the proceedings and then returning to his tan Bentley and driving away as the service drew to a close.
Duncan felt numb to the bone, though it wasn’t the weather making him feel so. For a change, the usually weak winter sun shone brightly high in the sky, casting a strangely summery glow across everything it touched. Duncan had barely said a word to anyone, and people had mostly let him be, figuring he was too distraught at Sam’s suicide to speak much. But he had already grieved that loss while he lay injured in hospital. What he was doing as he stood there, as others moved on, was all for show. He’d already said all he needed to say. Though Sam would never hear it.
When talking is too painful, experts say, it often helps to write a letter to whomever is causing your anguish, but never send it. The process of putting thoughts down on paper helps to take the burden off your own shoulders, gets the thoughts and feelings out in the open and allows the healing to begin. So, before they’d closed the casket lid for the last time, Duncan had slipped the letter inside. It read:
Sam,
It was very nearly me in this casket right now.
It pained me to find out you wanted me dead. After all these years and two wonderful children I was surprised, to say the least, but it all fits together. It was your sudden change in behaviour that raised the question initially, though in Rochelle’s mind rather than my own – I was a bit slow on the uptake.
But here’s the thing: when I heard these two novices that night, arguing about who was going to kill me, I knew she’d been right – no self-respecting criminal would have gone with such an amateur route. But an actual amateur would. And they were almost successful, because I was incapacitated – something I suspect was your own handiwork. The thoughtfulness of the little pies escaped me at the time. I should have known it was all part of it. How silly I’ve been.
Rick never said a word to me; still hasn’t. Knowing Rick, I guess he’s protecting my feelings because, now you’re gone, it wouldn’t do any good to bring it all up. He’s good like that, and that’s why I cherish him as a friend and work colleague as much as I do.
You’re gone yourself now, and in a way I’m glad, because it means I don’t have to face you and what you did. How could we ever go back after that? You made it impossible.
We won’t be meeting in an afterlife, because I’m not going where you’re already headed – a special place reserved only for you. So, the girls and I will pick up the pieces of our lives, and we’ll find happiness once again, though it will take time. Thankfully, we have plenty of that.
Maybe you’ll be happy now. You certainly weren’t when you were here.
Duncan.
He’d poured it all out, cleansed his soul, scraped back the scales and prepared himself for life as a single father with two wonderful girls. Where he’d take them he didn’t yet know, but it would be tough to stay where they were, in the house they’d all shared together, where she’d been found. He’d never forgive her for that. The girls didn’t need to have witnessed their mother lying dead, face down on the sofa, with an empty vodka bottle beside her. Where had she got the drugs that had eventually killed her? How had he missed her having a problem? Maybe he hadn’t known her at all.
In time the girls would get over it – they all would – but for now, he had to be there for them, support them through the years ahead and give them everything they needed, everything a single dad could muster.
Perhaps he’d buy a caravan, move to the Cornish coast where the weather was warmer and the ice creams were plenty. Maybe that’s what she’d meant for them when she’d left the brochures and magazines nearby. A note would have been nice.
But she hadn’t bothered, so Duncan had written his own note, which, along with the truth, was now buried with her forever.
The day was, indeed, done.
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Copyright © 2018 Blue Banana
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About the Author
Hi, I’m Linda Coles. Thanks for choosing this book, I really hope you enjoyed it and collect the following ones in the series. Great characters make a great read and I hope I’ve managed to create that for you.
Originally from the UK, I now live and work in beautiful New Zealand along with my hubby, 2 cats and 6 goats. My office sits by the edge of my vegetable garden, my very favourite authors are Harlan Coben and Karin Slaughter and apart from reading and writing, I get to run by the beach for pleasure.
If you find a moment, please do write an honest online review, they really do make such a difference to those choosing what book to buy next.
Enjoy! And tell your friends.
Thanks, Linda
Keep in touch:
www.lindacoles.com
linda@lindacoles.com