A Body in the Lakes by Graham Smith (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

thumping against the tree even as her arms encircled it. Her feet scrabbled at the base of the trunk until they gained purchase and she could stop worrying she was going to land on the boulders below.

The tree had survived the sudden addition of her weight, but Beth’s only thought was for the phone. When she looked up and saw it was still jammed between the branches she let out a relieved sigh.

Once she’d got her heart rate under control, Beth gripped the branches above her head and put her foot on a branch that was at knee height. Every time she progressed upwards, she moved further away from the bank.

After three successive movements, she had the phone in front of her face. It should have been easy to get the phone into the evidence bag, but the way the tree had flexed to a 45 degree angle not only unnerved her, but it made her want to grab the phone and toss it to Kieran before everything landed in the river.

She was also suffering from a lack of hands as she was using both of hers to cling to the tree’s branches. Slowly, an inch at a time, she laid her body against the tree’s narrow trunk until she could release the branches and balance herself.

Her left hand retrieved the evidence bag and moved it round so it was below the phone. She teased it open and then reached for the violet rectangle six inches from her nose.

As soon as her fingers touched it, the phone moved. In a panic that it would tumble into the river, she grabbed the mobile and got a firm grip of it.

She eased it out from its resting place and dropped it into the evidence bag.

With the bag safely wedged into her waistband, she moved her hands back to the branches and levered herself to a more vertical position.

The readjustment of her weight caused the tree to lean further towards the river. Its lower branches now trailed in the water and caressed the boulders in the riverbed. As quick as she could, Beth clambered back down until she was standing on the curve where the tree emerged from the bank.

Kieran held out the end of the bamboo cane to her, so Beth planted a foot on the bank and through a combination of her own strength, and his pulling, got herself back onto solid ground.

The first thing she did was retrieve the evidence bag and hold it up to take a look at the phone. It appeared to be switched off, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get fingerprints from it which may well identify Willow’s abductor.

Beth dusted herself down. There were stubborn green stains where some form of lichen or algae refused to be brushed off, but she wasn’t too worried; the dark material of her trouser suit hid the worst of the staining.

‘Well done.’ Kieran’s face and his voice held a measure of respect. ‘There’s no way I could have done that.’

‘We all have our different strengths.’ Beth didn’t need his compliments or his admissions. Her mind was already on the next steps she had to take. ‘Thanks for helping. You can get back to your station now. Do me a favour when you write up your report though, just say I shinned a couple of branches up a tree, there’s nothing to be gained from overdramatising things.’

Now that she’d done what was needed, Beth was looking at it from Mannequin’s point of view. He’d doubtless consider her climbing the tree to have been foolhardy and dangerous; therefore he’d deem it worthy of a reprimand she didn’t have time to waste hearing.

‘I’m not to go back to the station. My sarge says I’ve to help you until you go back to Carleton Hall.’

‘Fair enough.’

As Beth led him back to where their cars were parked, she couldn’t help but wonder if his sergeant wanted Kieran to be educated or babysat.

Sixty-Three

As she drove to the Brown household, Beth recalled her conversation with one of the friends Willow had been out with on Friday night. The woman had been chatty enough and Beth hadn’t heard any hesitation or subterfuge in her voice when she questioned her about the night out.

Willow had been chatted up by one or two guys, but she’d not gone any further than a spot of flirting. She’d also talked with lots of people she knew from the town, but hadn’t got drawn into any lengthy conversations.

The friend had admitted that the way Willow had dressed had drawn attention, but while she’d enjoyed the looks she was getting, she hadn’t led anyone on in any way.

With every new piece of information she received, the greater was Beth’s conviction that Willow had been deliberately taken by the Lakeland Ripper.

Her first knock on the Browns’ door went unanswered, so she rattled her knuckles off the glass a second time with a little more force.

The door swung open to reveal an agitated Mrs Brown. Her hands flapped at nothing as she stepped back to allow Beth and Kieran into the house.

‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs Brown, but I need to show something to either you or your husband.’

‘What is it? Please, dear God no. Please don’t show me a picture and ask if it’s our Willow. I can’t cope with that.’

‘Don’t you worry, lass, it’s nowt like that.’

To some, Kieran calling Mrs Brown ‘lass’ when she was old enough to be his mother might seem odd, but Beth knew the addition of ‘lad’ or ‘lass’ to a sentence was a trait common to Cumbria, and the familiarity of the expression seemed to settle Mrs Brown.

Beth wondered if that’s what his skill was, calming worried or hysterical relatives, because there was no way he could be classed as a man of action.

She got why Mrs Brown had reacted the way she had. The woman’s greatest fear would be the police arriving to inform her of her daughter’s death.

‘What is it then?’

‘We think we’ve found