She slipped into her own car, trying not to laugh at the stunned disbelief that flashed over his face. She rarely allowed him to drive, preferring to be in the driving seat herself, but on occasion it amused her to take him by surprise.
Fleur raised her head, her little whippy tail gave a gentle wag and she dropped her chin back onto her paws.
Jenna studied her. Poor little girl. She reached down and smoothed one hand over Fleur’s head. ‘What are we going to do with you, my lovely?’
She straightened up and in the close confines of her car, the waft of strong coffee beans greeted her. As she mulled over her little dog predicament, Jenna picked the takeout cup from the console holder and took a tentative sip. Tepid it may be, but the strong, smooth tones of liquid pleasure slid over her tongue and down her throat with no effort.
As Mason shot off in front of her, she popped the cup back in the holder and followed at a more sedate pace, with Ryan bringing up the rear behind her in his little Suzuki Swift, close enough to make her twitchy. She touched her brakes at the first roundabout and hoped to hell he was paying attention and didn’t ram into the back of her.
On the straight, she snatched up her cup again and took a good, long swig. Cold, black coffee wasn’t so bad. It may be in her mind, but the effects of the caffeine had an instant reaction and her mood took a quick upward swing.
She glanced in her mirror and held her breath as she drove in through the police station car park only sighing out her relief as Ryan veered off to race down the first aisle as she continued along the thoroughfare to the further end of the car park.
She unbuckled herself and finished the last of her coffee before she snatched the second disposable cup from the cup holder. With the milk content, Mason’s coffee was even cooler than hers. Her stomach gave a little hitch as she imagined the cold swirl of curdled milk.
With a quick glance around to check she had everything she needed, she wrinkled her nose as she swiped her bag from the passenger seat, stuffed the now cold panini in the top so she could grab it later and nuke it in the microwave at work. She scooped a scarf-wrapped sleepy Fleur into her arms, and juggled the two cups. She gave the door a shove open with her elbow and then closed it with a hard nudge of her hip and strode towards the front entrance of the station.
Mason drew the police vehicle alongside just as she threw her empty cup in the green metal waste bin at the edge of the public footpath.
She raised his cup and waggled it at him as he wound down the passenger window. ‘Do you want this, or should I chuck it? It’s stone cold.’
He screwed up his face. ‘Nah, I don’t want it. It’ll be rank now.’
‘I’ll have it.’ Ryan swiped it from her raised hand as he swooped past, a wide grin on his face.
‘Ah!’ With that one sharp word, she stopped him before he had a chance to slug down the coffee. ‘You don't really need to come. Mason and I can handle this.’ Jenna tightened her grip on Fleur ready to hand the dog over for Ryan to take care of.
‘No problem.’ He flashed her a cheeky grin. ‘I want to, really it’s great experience.’
Before she could suggest he might go into the station and complete paperwork, he yanked open the car door and was already in the back seat, not even trying to take her position in the front passenger seat. She suspected he knew that would be one step too far. Shotgun was her privilege. She’d already established that with him on previous occasions.
She may be his senior officer, but there was a boyish persuasiveness about Ryan that had her giving in. Resigned to putting up with him, she leaned down and spoke to both of them through the open window. ‘Give me a minute.’
She turned her back and trotted over the moat bridge to the station’s automatic doors where she paused to let them swish open. She turned right and stepped up to the front counter where she grinned as she saw the ever respectable Tim Harper. A quiet man, close to retirement, he simply goggled at her as she thrust the little chihuahua into his arms and gave her a little chin scratch, resisting the temptation to make coochy noises, which would only spoil her reputation of tough.
‘This is Fleur. Fleur needs to be looked after while she waits for someone to claim her. Keep a hold of her, would you, Tim? Just until I come back.’ She knew he’d pass her on to one of his female colleagues as soon as he could. From the way he held her, it looked like he thought he had a ticking time bomb.
Jenna back-stepped towards the doors, hearing them swish open behind her. ‘She’ll probably need to pee soon.’
She turned just as his mouth opened and closed like a landed fish and hot-footed it over the little bridge with a slide of guilt. Fleur would be fine. She’d been fed. She’d be safe.
Jenna slipped into the front seat and strapped her seat belt on, she tapped the postcode she had for Lamonte’s address into the satnav and leaned back to clear her mind while Mason navigated his way into the early-morning traffic. There was no rush. They needed to check out the location. If they found anything incriminating, they could hand it over to SOCO and continue with the case from the previous evening.
She took out her phone and tapped the WhatsApp icon. A million one-line messages from Fliss as was her habit. She typed a few words, zapped send, typed a few more. A lengthy monologue she’d have been better off sending in one missive. She started with the first message.
Domino with Lena.
Lena was the dogwalker Fliss had engaged. As a teacher, Fliss needed to get into school early on Monday mornings to set up for the week. The other times were relatively flexible so they could work his care between them. He’d fully recovered from his trauma when they’d almost lost him to a madman, but he needed attention and he needed exercise. Lena had been taking him out for the last several weeks. Jenna wasn’t sure it had made such a difference to his attitude. It didn’t seem to matter how much exercise he had, he still leapt around with boundless energy, never happier than when he was on a mission. A mischief mission.
She scrolled further down her messages. Most of them from Fliss were one-way exchanges, quick reminders.
Get milk.
Jenna sighed. Fliss liked her little emojis. There followed a stream of them. Wine, a plate of pasta. Damn, but she wasn’t going to have time for a shop. They’d bloody well starve, especially if they didn’t have any pasta, the quick fix in their lives.
She punched in a brief message. Fliss would understand. She’d grab them something on her way home or slip into the local Co-op when she walked Domino. Her sister knew what shifts could be like. Eight hours or sixteen. You never could tell.
The next message brought a smile to her face. Adrian. Quick, perfunctory, perfect.
On the train. Have a great day. Speak later.
And they would.
She sent a quick reply and clicked off the phone so she could think.
If they found nothing at Lamonte’s, it would be a quick paper exercise. All in a day’s work, juggling a dozen or more cases at the same time. She might simply hand it over to Ryan and let him close it off, assured that he would never miss a trick.
In the meantime, using Section 18 of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984, which covered the police for entry and search after an arrest, they could conduct a thorough inspection of Lamonte Junior’s house. She wrapped her fingers around the single front door key he’d handed over with reluctance, but it was better than them having to break the door down. He’d seen the wisdom of that in the end.