The Serial Killer's Wife by Alice Hunter (romantic novels to read txt) 📕

should’ve been – you got lulled into a false sense of security. So, I’m betting you’ve left vital clues. Things you assumed were irrelevant, things you thought only you would know the meaning of, for us to pick up and piece together now. It’s surprising how inconspicuous, innocuous, something can look until you have something else to add. Then the picture begins to take shape.’

Shut up, shut up, shut up! I have to bite the inside of my cheek, hard, to stop the words leaving. The sanctimonious bitch. Why is Manning letting her take the lead here? He’s the superior. My stomach twists at her words. I dumped my work laptop, but I couldn’t find my iPad – I’d rushed out of the house Tuesday morning and assumed I’d be able to find it later on, only they’d got to me before I could. Shit.

If Beth had been home when I’d called from the station that evening, I might’ve been able to get her to agree to get rid of it for me. Although that in itself would’ve caused various issues.

‘What are our tech guys going to retrieve from your phone or from your home computer, I wonder? When did you last communicate with Katie? Will your emails back up your claim she went travelling?’

I open my mouth to launch into a rant, but Maxwell’s hand shoots in front of me – a warning. I hiss the words through my gritted teeth: ‘No. Comment.’ A bead of sweat trickles down my face, and I try to wipe it away without them noticing. The bitch, Cooper – she does though. She smirks and I have the urge to punch her. I look past her, focusing on the wall behind. I visualise Beth, Poppy and me as a family in our perfect cottage. I will have that again. If I keep level-headed.

If they don’t find anything on my iPad.

If they don’t uncover the truth about where I was on Tuesday.

Chapter 16

BETH

Now

The woman I saw earlier is standing stiffly outside my front door as I walk down the path. Poppy is grasping my hand tightly. Or I might be the one holding hers tight.

‘Mrs Hardcastle,’ she says. ‘I’m Detective Constable Imogen Cooper. I’m from Major Investigation Team 8 in the Homicide and Major Crime Command, working with DI Manning. Here’s your key back.’ She stretches out her arm. ‘I locked up – I was going to come and find you,’ she says, dropping the key into my palm. Imogen Cooper is petite, but her stance is assured and I’d bet she’s tougher than she appears. She must have to be in her line of work.

‘Well, no need now.’ I clasp the key in my hand and make to move past the detective.

‘I’m sorry.’ She steps in front of me so that I can’t rush inside. ‘I realise this feels like an intrusion. Has to be done, I’m afraid.’

‘Sure,’ I say. I don’t want to talk about this in front of Poppy really. ‘How … er … is it, in there?’ I nod towards the cottage.

‘Oh, we’ve taken what we need at this time. Tried not to make it look as though a herd of elephants has stampeded through. But you know …’ She smiles awkwardly.

Great. So, it’s a total mess, then. And the words ‘at this time’ sound ominous.

I shake my head and sigh loudly.

‘Has Maxwell Fielding spoken to you?’

‘No, not yet. I was in a rush to get Poppy.’

‘Right.’ DC Cooper puts her hands in her trouser pockets and lowers her gaze to Poppy. ‘We’ve had a little game inside your house,’ she says, attempting a smile. ‘I’m sorry we might have made a bit of a mess that your mummy will need to clear up. Grown-ups aren’t always great at putting things away; they can be a bit clumsy.’

DC Cooper’s face tilts up, her eyes meeting mine. My pulse skips. She side-steps me and I take my opportunity to shoot inside.

I hear her say, ‘I’ll see you soon,’ as I close the door. For a moment, I stand with my back against it, taking stock. Shaking.

From the way she was acting, from what she said, I’m guessing they found what they were looking for.

Chapter 17

BETH

Now

It feels such a violation knowing that police officers have been in my cottage, in my bedroom, touching my things. I didn’t have time to hang around to witness them filing out with plastic bags full of Tom’s things, maybe even my things. I’d had to leave to get Poppy from nursery. It was probably better not to watch anyway. I’d only have been fretting about what they were looking for; what they’d find.

I can’t immediately tell what they’ve taken – each room is in varying degrees of disarray. Rushing around the cottage, all I can tell is that it seems as though they’ve been thorough. Hopefully that means they won’t be back, despite Cooper’s words. Thankfully, they’ve been less careless in Poppy’s room, I notice. I flit around, straightening the toys on her bed, closing drawers and cupboards. I gather some of her discarded clothes and bundle them quickly into the wardrobe. It’ll do for now.

Our bedroom is in a greater state of chaos, as is the kitchen. The main computer has gone, and I can’t see Tom’s iPad – those are the obvious items, the ones I fully expected them to seize. Nonetheless, a violent shudder runs through me. This situation is going to get worse, and I’m afraid of being taken down along with Tom: dragged into a spiralling vortex. I need to think about what I can do to prevent the total destruction of my family. As far as I know, they still don’t have Katie Williams’ body, so I can’t see how they’ve enough evidence to link Tom to her and keep him in custody. Maxwell clearly isn’t telling me everything, but according to him what they have so far is shaky. It must be enough to keep