‘What?’
‘She was pregnant.’
Gina swallowed. The murderer had not only taken Holly’s life, they’d taken that of her unborn child. ‘I want the foetus’s DNA sample taken without delay.’
Chapter Seventeen
The beast has escaped and it was never going back in its cave now, he was more than just a player – he had an urge. Lives would be ruined but he didn’t care as long as his life wasn’t ruined. He wanted to feel the pulse of a woman throbbing through his thumbs as he throttled her. It was a feeling of power like never before and they loved it, he could tell.
She loved it and she was begging for more. He’d give her more when he saw her later. She’d asked where he’d been going. He had work to do. That was his excuse. After all that had happened, he didn’t care if she believed him or not. He made her feel good, helping her to float in her sea of misery. I am God and she knows it. I can attach that weight around her neck at any time but I’ll never let her drown, not her. The world needed at least one person who understood his needs and desires.
He watched as the young woman pulled her bags out of the car, no doubt filled with her sage green dress. She must be sporting one hell of a hangover following the previous night’s drinks and the unfortunate event. He’d seen her wandering about in a stupor. What a let down. He’d always thought more of Francesca.
Francesca Carter, the most beautiful one in the room last night. A pang of guilt left his thoughts as fast as it came.
She flicked her long brown hair over her shoulder. He loved the look of tragedy sweeping across her face. There was something about a sad, grieving woman that turned him on, especially a young one. In his mind, he is lying on top of her getting turned on as she screams for more. Then he does it. He brings her hair around her neck, using it like a rope to cut off her air supply, tighter and tighter until she’s blue. Her red lips will throb for him and he knows what he gives her will be the gift of pure pleasure.
Would he unravel the rope of hair and allow her to gasp in huge gulps of air? Maybe, maybe not. Until last night, he’d have said yes, but now it was all about him.
He walked up her drive wondering whether he should offer to help as she struggled with her luggage.
‘Bastard bag,’ she said as the stringy handle twisted around her wrist one too many times, threatening to cut the blood flow to her arm.
All I see is the indent on your flesh from the stringy handle and I want you, Francesca.
She untangled the string and threw the bag to the block paving before kicking it over and over again, then breaking down. Slamming the boot closed, she leaned over and sobbed onto the cold black metal.
‘Frannie, I’m really sorry.’ He hurried over and held her.
‘Where did you come from?’ She nudged him away.
He hadn’t washed properly this morning, let alone taken the time to shower. Time had been against him. Maybe that’s why she wanted him to get off her. She hadn’t been that cold at the wedding reception. She’d been drunk and her arms had snaked around every man there at some point over the course of the evening, including him.
‘Come here.’ He pulled her closer and stroked her hair. Her rigid body crumpled in his embrace and he felt a slight shiver running through her. He took a few strands of her hair and wrapped them lightly around her neck, disguising his movement as comfort. Within seconds, she’d pushed him away again. Francesca is going to be harder work than he’d anticipated.
A stir filled his pants. Francesca couldn’t be allowed to feel that, it seemed inappropriate. He didn’t need her telling anyone about that. It could ruin him and blow his plans right out of the water. ‘Where’s Charlie?’
‘He’ll be home soon. He’s just popped to get some shopping.’
Damn. He didn’t have long to enjoy her company even though she looked reluctant to let him in.
Her hair.
Her neck.
The smell of lightly fragranced soap as she passed, subtle lemon.
Her soft cheeks and the feel of her bosoms crushing against his chest for that couple of seconds had taken his breath away. Thrum, thrum, thrum. Blood flushed around his body and his heartbeat quickened a little with excitement. The beats went from fast to deep, filling his body with a desperate need for her.
‘Can we talk?’
‘I don’t know.’ Francesca looked around as if someone might be watching. ‘I’m not in the mood for talking. I really just want to be alone.’
Look hurt, look hurt, look hurt! Forcing the corners of his mouth to downturn, he cocked his head to the side. ‘Please. It’ll only take a minute.’ He reached out and cupped one of her hands with both of his.
Her shoulders dropped as she pulled away. ‘I was just going to make a drink. Do you want one?’
Of course he did. He needed a coffee to calm himself down. Brandy would be better. Would a drink be enough? Was she alone in there? He glanced up at the front of the house, lined with tall conifers either side. No one had seen him come and he had parked a fair way back. ‘Yes, please. Thanks, Frannie.’ It’s so easy when someone trusts you completely. I need to work on Frannie a little more. She isn’t as desperate as Holly was. People like Holly always give trust away with ease and wonder why everything in their life has gone wrong. Not him, he worked hard on being trusted but he trusted no one.
‘You coming?’ He could see the wary expression she was wearing but that didn’t bother him one bit. He’d won her around.
He smiled. ‘Let me get those bags for you.’ Ever the gentleman.
Chapter Eighteen
As Gina pulled up past the bus stop on Cleevesford High Street, she glanced up at the flats and spotted Marianne Long waiting in the communal corridor on the top floor. A soft breeze fluttered through the slightly open window and a grey cloud had formed overhead. O’Connor pulled up beside her. Jacob gave a little wave in his direction, out of the window. O’Connor stepped out of his car and got into the back of Gina’s.
Gina turned a little in the confined space so that she could address Jacob and O’Connor. ‘Right, we’re looking for any sign of someone else in Holly’s life. Remember, Ms Long has lost her daughter and I don’t want to make this any more painful for her than it has to be. We are looking for clues as to who she may have been seeing. I spoke to one of the bridesmaids and she said that Holly was acting a little strangely, that when she visited Holly wouldn’t open the door to her. This same friend said that she looked through the letterbox and saw the back of a man reflected in the hall mirror. He was wearing a blue shirt, that’s all she saw. We have not as yet managed to locate Holly’s phone or her pink tablet. For someone who is described as glued to it, by her mother, this is strange. There is a chance she left it at home. I want to find it.’
‘Got it, guv,’ Jacob replied.
‘And thanks for getting here so quickly, O’Connor. When Ms Long called, I didn’t want to put her off until later. We need to find out all we can, and fast. She doesn’t yet know that her daughter was pregnant and this is something I will need to tell her. Ready?’
They nodded. All getting out of the car, they crossed the road. Ms Long spotted them coming and hurried down, letting them in through the locked front door. Gina’s mouth watered as she inhaled the smell of frying fish in the shop underneath the flats. The High Street was built in the thirties and the building in which Holly had lived had once been a bank. Developers had used a side access door, converted the middle and top floors, leaving the bottom floor as the chip shop, which had been there for as long as Gina could remember.