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

door. He’s naked from the waist up and his jeans are hanging down low enough to show that he’s wearing women’s underwear.’ Ethan took a drink of his pint. ‘Next thing, this big bloke comes tearing out of the house, apologising to the woman. He’s six three at least, built like the proverbial brick outhouse with a shaved head and a beard you could hide a badger in. Thing is, he’s wearing a bright-red dress with a split in the side that’s opening up enough to show his stocking tops.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘The only thing I could do. I leaned out the window and said, “I’m sorry, madam, but we’re treating a patient” and left him for the husband to deal with.’

‘Oh my god. What happened next?’

‘We took her to hospital and she got her arm fixed. Turns out she knew her husband liked to wear women’s clothing, but she didn’t know her brother did as well.’

‘So how did she break her wrist?’ Beth lifted her drink and guided the straw to her mouth.

‘She did that when she punched the brother.’ Ethan fiddled with a beer mat. ‘She wasn’t very big, but by hell she was a wild woman. Even with her broken wrist she wanted to go back out and have another go at him.’

Beth scrunched round the table a little so she was close enough to lay her head on Ethan’s shoulder for a moment. It was an act of intimacy, but she wanted him to know how she was feeling and she’d always believed actions spoke louder than words. As much as she found Ethan handsome, it was his caring nature that drew her to him more than anything. On their first date, he’d been passionate when telling her about his job and the various highs and lows it brought into his life.

She drained her glass and went to the bar to get some more drinks as Ethan stepped outside for a cigarette. He claimed not to be a heavy smoker, but his smoking was the one thing about him that she didn’t like. To her, smoking was a smelly habit that shortened lives, but it was his life, and so far, he’d always made sure that he had mints to hide the smoke on his breath.

O’Dowd had called her earlier to let her know that Cooper had confessed in the hope of getting a lesser sentence when his case went to trial. The only victim he’d stood firm on not being responsible for was Felicia Evans.

As a rule Beth wasn’t a big drinker, but tonight was a night for celebration. Not only had she caught a murderer and a rapist, but she’d also got the necessary evidence to guarantee a conviction. Ethan could leave his car in the car park; she’d run him through for it in the morning.

Beth suddenly realised the subtext behind her plan of having more drinks than usual. She was building her confidence up so she could take Ethan to bed.

They chatted for an hour, and as Ethan went to visit the bathroom, a man walked into the bar. As a reflex action borne of long habit, her eyes flicked to his neck.

Beth’s mouth tightened when she saw the two lipstick kisses tattooed onto the side of the man’s neck. One pink and the other scarlet.

The man asked the barman for his usual as Beth turned her face away from him.

Kisses. Tattoo. Pain. Justice. The four words were shouted in her head, but her mouth never uttered a sound.

She’d been looking for this man for four years.

He was one of the men who’d been fighting the night a broken bottle had slammed into her cheek.

He wasn’t the one who’d held the bottle, but he was the one who’d deflected it into her face.

Ethan came over with a last drink for them while they waited for the taxi to arrive. All Beth wanted to do was go and confront the man, ask if he knew who she was, demand to know if he’d ever thought about the innocent woman who’d fared worse than either him or the man he was fighting.

She’d dreamed of this moment and what she’d do should it ever arrive.

All those plans went from her mind as she sat and pretended to listen to what Ethan was saying. Now that she was in this position, she was at a loss as to what to do. Her instincts told her to stay calm and to try to learn more about the man. To find out who he was, to discover who he’d been fighting, as his opponent had been the one to escalate the fight by smashing the bottle to use as a weapon.

It might have been the wine she’d drunk or the fact the man at the bar had never been punished for his part in her disfigurement, but something made Beth throw caution to the wind.

She rose to her feet, grabbed her purse and strode over to the bar, her heels pocking on the tiled floor.

When she got to the bar she made sure that she was at Neck Kisses’ right-hand side so her scarred cheek would be on full view. He didn’t look her way, wasn’t bothered about anything except his mobile.

Beth made sure her voice was a little louder than it needed to be. ‘Can I get two bags of cheese and onion crisps, please?’ She added a little slur to her voice for effect, but she’d never felt more sober.

Neck Kisses turned and flicked his eyes over her. There was no spark of recognition. He took in the scar, but he didn’t look at it any more or any less than most people. All he did was give her a polite nod and twist his head back to his mobile.

Now she knew he didn’t recognise her, Beth felt a strong sense of elation. She’d be able to come back here another time. She’d engage him in conversation, find out who he was and then she’d