Paparazzi by Jo Fenton (best free e reader .txt) 📕

“Yes, I had some work meetings, and took the opportunity to meet up with an old friend from uni.”

She picks up on this, and we have a chat about the challenges of keeping up with old friends, even in these days of social media.

“Strangely, it was easier in the past, where you made the effort to correspond by email or phone at least a couple of times a year, but nowadays… I don’t know, even New Year greetings are sent over Facebook,” Lesley says.

“Facebook has a lot to answer for. If it weren’t for that, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“True, but there are some advantages. I’ve met you, for one thing, and I rather think your Cheryl and my Joel are getting on well.”

I smile, but she might be right. He was waiting for her on the pavement when I dropped her off, and she went to greet him with more enthusiasm than she’d shown all morning.

I glance at my watch. It’s nine-thirty. “I guess they’ll be going in to see the Head about now.”

“Yes. I told them to speak to him first, and then use my letter if he seems to be reluctant to act. We need to strike pre-emptively before that bastard gets a chance.” Lesley grimaces, and I spend a few seconds working out who ‘that bastard’ might be.

“Elaine’s dad, you mean?”

“Yes. He’s a sneaky sod, and he’d do anything to protect his darling daughter. That’s why we had to get this done today. Did Cheryl tell you about the message Joel received?”

“She just mentioned that there were some nasty threats.”

Lesley picks up her phone and shows me the message: ‘Tell your mum to back off, prick, or u’ll be next.’

“Charming. What do you think they had in mind?”

“The kids all figured it meant photos, although Joel swore he hadn’t given them any ammunition.”

“It doesn’t take much. They can Photoshop anything these days, and if they say it belongs to a certain person, it’s difficult to disprove. I saw plenty of instances of that when I was in the police.”

“Well, quite. So obviously, we couldn’t let that get out. Time to nip it in the bud.”

As if on cue, my phone rings. I glance at the screen before answering.

“Hi love, how’s it going?”

“He only believed us when he saw Joel’s mum’s letter.”

“She’s here now. I’m sitting in her car.” This is discreet code for Be careful what you say.

“Oh, okay. I’m not on speaker, am I?”

I reassure her, but then ask the key question. “So what happens now?”

“I think the Head is going to phone Joel’s mum, then hopefully he’ll kick ass, and Karen and Elaine will get… sorry, Mum. Got to go. I’ll call you later.” She disconnects before I’ve had time to say ‘Bye’.

Lesley is tapping away on her phone. She looks up. “Joel prefers texting rather than actually having a conversation. He said my letter worked and the Head will be calling me shortly.”

“That’s pretty much what Cheryl said too. I’m going to have to get going, now I know they don’t need us to go in. Please will you let me know what the Head says?”

“Of course. Thanks for your company during the wait.” She grins.

“Thank you! For the company and the cookies.” I beam at her. “Definitely what I needed this morning. The carbs are kicking in now.”

Back in my car, I message Cheryl quickly to say I’m on my way home, and set off. But I’m still ridiculously tired, and have to focus on the drive. I’m even beyond auto-pilot. By the time I get home it’s just after ten, and I go inside and go straight upstairs.

Matt’s in the bath, and I call out to him. “I’m going to sleep. I’ll see you in an hour.”

It’s really rare for me to sleep during the day, but I’m out within a minute. When my alarm goes off at quarter past eleven, I feel a bit groggy, but this is rectified by another quick shower and more coffee. By the time it’s midday and I’m waiting for Finn to call, I feel properly awake and alert.

I message Joanna and let her know I’ll be round after I’ve spoken to Finn. I’ve just sent the message when he calls.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

“Okay thanks. How are you?” It’s nice that he’s being all friendly and concerned, but I need to cut to the chase now. “And how’s the investigation coming along?”

“I’m fine. Investigation is going fine on one side, but struggling on the personal side.”

“How do you mean?”

“It’s difficult to speak here, but you know what my team’s like now. They’ve not got all your people-skills. Troy won’t talk to them. He just clams up and says he can’t bring himself to even think about it.”

“Funny that. Joanna and I are due to meet with him at two-thirty this afternoon. He wants to talk to us.”

“Bloody hell, Becky. How do you do it? You’ve always had this knack of getting people to open up – even the friggin’ criminals want you to listen to their confessions.”

“Don’t know. I just like listening to people I guess. But let’s be practical for a minute. What do you want from Troy? I’m sure I can cover the basics, like where he was that day, and about the relationships, but are you after anything specific?”

“You know the drill. Deaths were between 10pm and midnight. Neighbours heard nothing. Killer wore gloves. No footprints or anything useful to aid identification.”

“There must be something from forensics. Are they still on-site?”

“Yeah, likely to be there all day, and possibly for another day or two after that. They’ll keep plugging away. They’re a diligent bunch.”

“Okay, I’ll go for the human angle, and see what I can get from Troy.”

“Great. How about we meet up at Joanna’s again for a takeaway? Eight-ish?”

“I’ll eat with my family. Cheryl’s got stuff going on and she needs me. But I’ll come afterwards and drink hot chocolate or something. See you later. Message me if you