Flesh and Blood (A DI Amy Winter Thriller) by Caroline Mitchell (simple ebook reader .TXT) 📕

elaborate what that was about?’ Amy exchanged a glance with Donovan before returning her attention to Shaun. They both knew Carla had not logged any extra hours at work that week. So where had she been?

‘Don’t ask me, ask your mate here.’ Shaun grimaced as he looked Donovan up and down. ‘He’s the last person she called, not me.’

Donovan was at a loss as to how to respond. As Amy questioned Shaun further, he felt burdened by guilt at what he was putting him through. What possible good was this doing, making him relive his wife’s death? He could almost feel Carla’s presence, asking him what on earth he was playing at, bringing him in like this. Carla was fiercely protective of her family, keeping work and home separate. She would not have wanted Shaun here. This man played no role in his wife’s death. Of that, he was sure.

‘I’ve told you a million times,’ Shaun said, as Amy fired another question. ‘I don’t know who she was going to meet. I don’t even know if she was telling the truth.’ Sighing, he stared at his hands. ‘She found it hard, managing the kids with work, and she was frustrated because she hadn’t been promoted yet.’ Amy nodded in understanding. Policing was a job that took everything you had to give, then put its hand out for more.

‘What did you think when you got the text from her phone that night?’ Amy’s voice softened as she probed. Sorry, the text had said. Take care of my girls. I can’t do this any more.

‘I didn’t know what to think,’ Shaun said. ‘I tried ringing her back, but her phone was off.’

‘Did that sound like something she’d say?’ Amy continued. Donovan remained silent as Shaun composed his thoughts.

‘No,’ he said, rubbing his face. ‘She never called them “her” girls. They were ours. She never would have left them.’ Shaun straightened as a new thought seemed to cross his mind. ‘You don’t think she killed herself, do you? That’s why you’re here.’

‘It’s too early to tell,’ Donovan said. ‘But we’re exploring every avenue.’

Shaun paused to blow his nose. ‘I want to see the rest of the CCTV.’

‘What CCTV?’ Donovan asked.

‘There must be more . . . They’ve got cameras on the pier.’

‘The pier was broken into and the cameras were vandalised. Didn’t you know?’ Donovan watched as Shaun got to grips with the news.

‘No . . . No, I didn’t . . .’ His voice faded as he became lost in thought. ‘The voicemail . . . The cameras . . . That’s it then,’ he said, finally meeting their gaze. ‘Carla was murdered.’ The colour drained from Shaun’s face as he looked from Donovan to Amy. ‘She hated water. She must have been terrified.’

‘We’ve an outstanding team of officers on this, Shaun,’ Amy said. ‘The best in the country. And we’re committed to finding out what happened to your wife that night.’

‘It’s a shame you weren’t committed to answering your phones.’ The dig was directed at Donovan and he let it go.

‘Don’t speak to the press, not yet,’ Amy said, changing the subject. ‘We need to investigate without hindrance, and we don’t want any possible suspect knowing that we’re on to them.’

‘Besides, we’re only surmising.’ Donovan powered off the computer. Their fifteen minutes was up. He was about to show Shaun out when Amy spoke.

‘These kids Carla mentioned, did she say if they were local?’

Shaun shook his head. ‘Carla knew most of the kids around here from when she was in uniform. She got on well with them, but she mentioned last week that these teenagers were new to the area.’

Donovan remembered Carla’s camaraderie with the youth of Clacton. She had a soft spot for them all, even the scallywags.

Amy frowned. ‘When was that?’

Shaun blew out his cheeks. In the confines of the tiny room, his breath was stale. ‘It must have been two . . . three days before she died.’

‘And she didn’t say anything else?’

Donovan scowled. Amy was pushing too hard. It was obvious the man was upset.

Shaun’s lips were thin and bloodless as he reached into his pocket. ‘I wasn’t sure if I should give this to you or not.’ He pressed a small green pocket diary into Donovan’s hands. ‘But you may as well know how she felt.’ His words faltered as he exhaled.

Donovan stared at the pocket diary, recognising the emblem on the cover. It was a freebie officers were sent from the Police Federation every year.

A knock signalled the end of their conversation.

‘You all right, mate? I brought you a cuppa cha,’ said Bicks.

Instinctively, Donovan shoved the diary into his pocket. He could take a statement later, should Carla’s diary be relevant to the investigation.

Shaun glanced at the mug in Bicks’s hand as it was offered. ‘I think I’ll just get off. I need to get home to the girls.’

Donovan took the tea. ‘Thanks for coming in. If there’s anything we can do, you know where we are.’

‘Just find the bastard who killed my wife.’

‘We’ll get to the bottom of this, mate.’ Bicks threw an enquiring glance at Donovan before patting Shaun’s back. ‘My motor’s out the front. I’ll run you home.’

Amy turned to Donovan as the door clicked shut. ‘What was that all about?’

‘I don’t know.’ Donovan flicked through a few of the pages, feeling Amy’s gaze as she looked on. The entries were personal. ‘Sorry,’ he said, snapping it shut. ‘This feels all wrong.’

‘Go through it in your own time.’ Amy squeezed his arm. ‘But don’t leave it too long.’

Donovan smiled, grateful for her understanding. ‘Bicks has invited us over for a late supper at his place after work.’ He was grateful to change the subject. From the way Shaun had looked at him, he didn’t want to share Carla’s diary with anyone.

‘That’s nice of him,’ Amy said, but she didn’t meet his eye. ‘Does it have to be tonight?’

‘Afraid so. I didn’t have the heart to say no.’

A thought seemed to enter Amy’s head. ‘He doesn’t know about us, does he?’

‘No, no. Nothing like that. Apparently, his missus is dying to