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

‘As long as you don’t mind sharing,’ Amy said. Her mind was already on Gary’s replacement. His betrayal had cut deep into the heart of the team. This time, she needed someone who was squeaky clean. Which is why she had a potential candidate lined up for his job. She would make Denny an offer he couldn’t walk away from. Where better to look for a new candidate than PSD?

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

Donovan gazed around the room in silence. Amy had taken over debriefing their officers along with CID, giving him some breathing space. It was hard to believe that up until recently his team were busily working here. His gaze fell to the desk where Gary had sat next to the window. It only seemed like yesterday that Bicks was standing here, ready to welcome the team in. It had been a good result, although not without its casualties. To think that Bicks was responsible for Carla’s death all along . . . His jaw clenched at the thought.

Last night he had lain in bed, replaying Carla’s death over in his head. If only he had taken her call when she rang. He imagined Bicks waiting for Carla to turn up. He had access to his police radio, to local intelligence. He had his ear to the ground. He knew pressure was on for her to make an arrest on her own. Carla had something to prove and Bicks had capitalised on that. But she was getting too close to the kids, and he could not risk her discovering the truth. Her turning up at his house had sealed her fate. Devious bastard, Donovan thought. Carla’s involvement was a mess Bicks was happy to clean up – as long as he came out of it unscathed. Then he would rotate the kids once more. It must have been a fly in the ointment when the vigilante killings began – or were they something to pin Carla’s death on? Just how deep did this run?

He sat on the edge of Molly’s desk, tutting as he knocked her bag on to the floor. He felt like he was intruding as he picked up the items that spilt on to the thin carpet. Chewing gum, Post-it notes, a marker pen . . . His hand froze mid-air as a test stick caught his eye. Was that? It was.

Delicately, he poked at the stick as he read the test. Two lines displayed a faded positive result. Pregnant. Molly was pregnant. No wonder she had been acting sheepish. And here was he, thinking she was gay. Guilt sank in as he realised what he was doing, prodding around in her personal things. If Amy caught him, she’d tear a strip off him, DCI or not. She had a soft spot for Molly and was fiercely protective of her team.

Hastily, he picked up a packet of Tic Tacs and tissues that had fallen out of the bag. He slid the test back inside before placing everything back on Molly’s desk. Shit. If Molly went on maternity leave that was another member of the team down. He jumped as he heard voices in the corridor. He would keep this nugget of information to himself, at least for now. How Molly handled her pregnancy was her own business. He only hoped she would be OK.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Sunday 1 August

Amy had had a couple of sleepless nights worrying about her sister of late. But Sally-Ann seemed surprisingly relaxed as she greeted Amy with a smile.

‘Welcome back,’ Sally-Ann said, pushing a glass of Prosecco towards her.

Amy felt good to be back in Notting Hill and her old haunt, the Ladbroke Arms. The pub was quiet at this hour, but cosy. This was a place of treasured memories. It was where Paddy met Sally-Ann, where Amy sometimes drank with her team, and where she also used to meet her father, when he was alive. It was a lucky place, and Amy didn’t want to break that spell after the week she’d just had.

‘It’s good to be back,’ she said, clinking her glass against Sally-Ann’s before taking a tiny sip. She had already ordered a mineral water. She needed to keep a clear head. ‘You’re being remarkably upbeat, considering how things went.’ They’d had little time to discuss their meeting with Rachel, given there was so much happening with the case.

‘Believe me, I’m not. Sometimes I wish I had taken your advice and left things alone.’ Sally-Ann’s eyes filmed over. ‘There might not be a future for me and Rachel . . . but at least I know she’s OK.’

‘Take what good you can from it.’ Amy eyed her sister stoically. She was not one to say I told you so. ‘For what it’s worth, you were right not to listen to me. You would have always wondered where she was.’ She watched as Sally-Ann tried to compose herself. Recent events had taken their toll.

‘I used to feel like a balloon in the wind, bobbing about with no real ties.’ Sally-Ann offered up a smile. ‘But then I found out about you and everything changed.’

‘For better or worse?’ Amy felt half-scared of her response.

‘Definitely for the better. And if I hadn’t found you, I would never have met Paddy. He’s been such a rock to me.’

‘He’s a good man,’ Amy agreed.

A comfortable silence fell between them.

‘I don’t think I ever thanked you, not properly,’ Sally-Ann said eventually. ‘I put you through the wringer, and for what? To meet a young woman who can barely stand to look at me. My own flesh and blood.’ She exchanged a pained look with Amy. ‘It makes me question if it was all worth it, bowing down to Lillian. If I hadn’t stood by her during the trial, she wouldn’t be free today.’

But Amy was ready with an answer, because she’d given it some thought too. ‘If I hadn’t got involved then there wouldn’t have been any