Someone Who Isn't Me by Danuta Kot (romance novel chinese novels .TXT) 📕

could be severe. The least of it was a tainting of his reputation, something his family – including Mia as she grew up – would have to live with. His daughter could even lose the pension she’d get for an officer killed in the line of duty, because if Andy had been on the take, then he didn’t die in the line of duty. She wrestled with it, then made up her mind. Andy had been one of the good guys, she was sure of that. He’d never have done something that might have harmed Mia.

‘OK. I’ll take a look, but if I find anything, I’m taking it straight to Hammond.’

‘Sure. Just let me know as well. When will you go?’

She might as well get over with. ‘Tonight. I’ll go in tonight.’

She felt, rather than saw, Curwen relax beside her. ‘Thanks, Dinah,’ he said. ‘And let me know if his phone turns up. There could be something on that.’

Ten minutes later, she was heading back towards her desk with some useful tips from Curwen about making her searches easier, but her mind was focused on what he had just told her about Andy. If he was right, this could add a whole new layer to the investigation – could break it wide open.

She had to tell Hammond, but she’d do what Curwen had asked her first.

Chapter 17

The day at the supermarket had dragged on and on. Becca had moved through it – from till to stockroom to shelves – like a zombie. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking, so she forced her mind onto the routine – making lists in her head of things she needed to do, counting the steps from one end of the store to the other.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to fall asleep and not wake up again for a hundred years, like that lame movie about fairy godmothers and shit like that.

Andy. In trouble, with the kind of people—

Stop!

Thirty-five steps from one side of the stockroom to the other. Seventy from the stockroom to the till…

What kind of people? Why had he been so cold in his texts while he was away?

Five from the first till to the next…

She was going crazy. The last thing she wanted to do was go to the pub, because there it would be even worse: the pub was Andy’s place, the place where she always saw him and the place where they would text and chat. She didn’t want to make nice with the punters, she didn’t want to talk to the pig creep copper if he came in again, she didn’t want to listen to Toby making excuses so he could go and play on the games machines.

She didn’t want to be anywhere.

But that was the thing about being broke. It took all your choices away.

Shitface Bryan kept her late at the shop, pretending the shelves weren’t right and the stock was in the wrong places, so she didn’t have time to go back and feed the kitten, or to get anything to eat herself. She stopped on the way to buy a tray of chips, but they were pale and flabby, tasting of cheap cooking oil, and after a couple of mouthfuls, they made her feel sick. She was supposed to be behind the bar at seven thirty. She got to the pub with minutes to spare.

Russ was in his place by the door, Champ sitting like a statue beside him. Where did they go when they weren’t here? She never saw them around Brid during the day.

She wanted to talk to him, to ask him about Andy. Russ was the only one who knew she and Andy had gone out that time – he’d seen them leaving together that Saturday night. If she closed her eyes, it was like she was back there, both of them laughing about something daft that had happened, Andy holding her hand, lightly.

But that was then. Now was what mattered.

Andy had asked for her help, and she hadn’t given it to him. In the end, she’d let him down, so she had to make up for that. Now, even though it was too late, she had to help him.

Russ must see just about everything that went on. ‘Hi,’ she said as she came towards him. Russ didn’t respond, but Champ turned his big head and stared at her. ‘Can I stroke him?’ she said, reaching her hand out. Russ didn’t like people messing with his dog.

He nodded, a quick, single jerk of his chin. It was soothing to run her hand over the huge head, feeling the smooth hair under her fingers. Champ stayed motionless, looking as though he was suffering her touch rather than enjoying it. She wanted to offer him the remains of her chips, but she knew better than to do that. One time, she’d offered him a crisp from a bag she was eating, but he hadn’t taken it, not until Russ had said, ‘OK,’ in a sharp sort of voice. ‘I don’t like people feeding him,’ he’d said to Becca, so she hadn’t done it again.

Time was getting on. ‘Did you hear…’ she began, unsure what she was going to say. Russ didn’t appear to notice she’d said anything but she had the feeling he was listening. She tried again. ‘Did you hear about Andy? You know, Andy who used to come in here?’ Her voice was getting more uncertain as Russ didn’t respond. ‘Only, I read in the paper, today. He got…’ She couldn’t say it. ‘You know.’

‘Yeah. I heard.’ His voice was indifferent. It was hard to go on, but she had to.

‘I don’t get it. I want to know what happened. He was… we were like… he was a mate.’ Why should Russ care about Andy? Or her? Why should he know anything about it?

Russ laughed. She’d never heard him laugh before. ‘Is that what you call it?’

She felt her face flush, and lifted her chin. ‘Yeah.