‘You still here?’
‘I’ll need your CCTV for Saturday night.’
His shoulders dropped. ‘How did I know you were going to ask that? Any sign of trouble in this town, you always want my CCTV. Of course, Detective Inspector. You can have whatever you like, but we best make it quick. My date has arrived.’
Hannah flicked her long blonde hair and took a seat at the bar. Her casual dress was nipped in at the waist by a chunky belt. ‘Mum? It’s you again. I wish you’d just leave me alone.’
‘It’s not all about you, Hannah,’ she said as she stepped outside, Jacob following.
‘What was that about?’
Gina took a deep breath and rubbed her tired eyes. ‘There appears to be something going on between Avery and my daughter. That’s my daughter, Hannah. You remember her, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. Sorry, guv. Wish I hadn’t asked. Tell you what, I’ll go in, get the CCTV and meet you back at the car.’
Her phone rang. ‘O’Connor. What have you got?’ Gina asked as she gazed at her daughter through the pub’s leaded bay window. Hannah sat on a bar stool and flicked her hair as she smiled.
‘The blood results from Phillip Brighton’s top have come back but that’s nothing, the blood was his. But there’s more.’
‘Okay, give it to me.’
O’Connor paused for a second. ‘During the search of his bedsit, the officers not only found all the usual stuff to convict him of dealing – scales, little bags, drugs, money. They found a password-protected pink tablet. It’s the same make and size as the one Holly owned.’
‘Holly’s missing tablet? I want him ready and waiting for my return.’ Gina took one last look at Hannah and hurried to the car to wait for Jacob. Hannah would have to wait.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cass stared at her phone, then back at the cake. Don’t eat it, don’t you dare. If you want friends like Kerry, you have to look good. Be the part. She snatched the cake from next to the filing pile and flung it in the tin bin by her feet. It wasn’t just Kerry, it was Elvis. Whoever he was texting would soon be history. His hands would be all over her once again. She began pretending to sort the papers in alphabetical order by client name. Pretending was fine. It’s all she had to do that day at work, that and answer a phone that rarely rang. Shut off in her own world, she could imagine what Elvis was up to and how Kerry was spending her day. Would Kerry be back at work considering what had happened to her best friend at her wedding reception?
Kerry worked for Daddy’s company. There would be no back-to-work interrogation by an uncaring manager. Even Ed worked for the company – handsome Ed or Fox Mulder as Cass liked to call him in her thoughts. She’d watched reruns of all The X-Files episodes many times and, in her mind, Ed was Fox. That family had everything; health, wealth and happiness in abundance. Cass had enjoyed some of that as a child when she’d been Kerry’s best friend, especially the wealth, before Holly took her place. But Holly was as dead as yesterday’s reception flowers that stood upturned in her bin. The best friend place in Kerry’s life was vacant and Cass had to take it back.
‘There’s a few spare slices of cake left. Want some more? I bet you do.’ Melody tottered past in her heels, holding a box.
‘No, thank you.’ Why would she want more cake? They were all in it, trying to encourage her to eat more so they ate less. It wouldn’t work. She knew them too well. They could keep their cake. She wasn’t going to eat today. ‘Hey, Melody?’
The woman turned back, just before the double doors.
‘I’m going on lunch break in half an hour. I have to go somewhere. Could you man reception for me, please?’
‘Of course. I’ll take this cake around, grab a drink, then I’ll head back. You going anywhere nice for lunch? Got a date with Elvis?’
Cass knew they all gossiped about her, made her the brunt of all their jokes. She’d caught a couple of nasties in marketing imitating her and Elvis, replacing the words to some of the real Elvis’s most famous songs with jokes about how they saw her relationship. ‘No.’ The woman waited for more. Cass wasn’t going to give her any more ammunition to pass on. No was all she was getting. ‘Half an hour then?’
Melody nodded and hurried off. Pulling several old tissues from her bag, Cass covered the cake in the bin and dragged some of the dead flowers over it. If Melody saw that, it would be another thing to gossip about. She’d heard them talking about her hefty weight, citing it as funny as they never saw her actually eat. Soon things would change. She would get her friend back, tidy herself up, get her relationship back on track and they would all see her differently. For now, she had a truth to find and one way or another she was going to get it. She leaned over and slipped her shoes back on, not her low-heeled Mary-Jane’s, but the flat pair she kept for frosty days that had long passed. It was time to take action. Sitting around sending poxy messages just wouldn’t cut it.
She moved the flowers aside and lifted the tissues in the bin and stared at the cake. Just a few morsels. She poked her finger in the creamed centre, scooped it out and licked it. It was just a taste and the bin was clean. Her stomach grumbled hard. After her evening binge when Elvis hadn’t come home straight after work, she promised herself no food today but every pore of her body screamed for sugar and salt. She poked her finger into the cake again and scooped out some more cream.
‘Cassie? What are you doing? You should have just said if you wanted more cake. Why is yours in the bin?’ Melody stared, red lips in a slight o shape as she awaited an answer.
Cass grabbed a piece of paper from her notepad and wiped her finger. ‘It wasn’t what it looked like.’ Who was she trying to convince.
‘Is everything okay?’
Cass nodded, keeping a calm exterior, the one she’d practised long and hard when what was inside felt like it was shooting in all directions. ‘I best go.’ She grabbed her zip-up jacket from the back of her chair and hurried out. ‘See you later.’
Dammit! Melody saw everything. She hurried to her car, holding her fuzzy curls in place as a gust of wind caught them. Everything was going wrong. She kicked the bushes at the back of the car park, wanting to yell and scream. She had to make things right, make her own destiny. I’m on my way.
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Phillip Brighton. Here we are again. Our murder victim, Holly Long was missing a pink tablet and we found one matching the same description during our search of your bedsit. What can you tell me about this?’ Gina held up the exhibit photo of the pink tablet.
He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing on the advice of Mr Ullah, his solicitor, who was whispering away in his ear.
‘Does this tablet belong to Holly Long?’
The suspect ignored every question, simply shuffling in his grey tracksuit bottoms.
Gina had to go through the motions for the tape, asking question after question she knew he wouldn’t answer. As she came to an end, she sighed, asking the final two. ‘Can you give us the password to the tablet?’ Gina paused. ‘How long have you had it?’