Jim tucked the camera back into his bag and took a swab from the small packet he picked up from where he’d laid it on the bed. ‘I need to collect samples from you. I’ll start at your back. When PC Gardner was shot, what did you do?’
‘I…’ She thought the events through. It was essential to the case. She had to face it. She drew in a long breath through her nostrils. Business. Professional. She could do it. She started at the end. ‘PC Gardner stepped in front of me.’
‘To protect you?’
‘No.’ She had to be honest. Heat scorched up her neck into her face. ‘He was a complete arse. As he always has been. He should never have been a police officer. Never once have I been impressed with the way he handled things.’ Once started, the rush of emotions poured out, desperate, angry, confused. ‘He didn’t step in front of me to protect me. I hate to say this, the man is dead.’ She paused, the pulse thundering in her ears as the scene flashed in front of her eyes again. ‘But he seemed to think he was invincible. He was arrogant in his belief that Gordon Lawrence would lay down his weapon on his say-so.’ She hauled in a deep breath.
Jim carried on as though it was a casual chat, but she knew he was aware that it helped to talk about it, to get it out. ‘And did you?’
‘No. Not by any stretch of the imagination. The moment I saw him, I knew he was going to pull that trigger. We weren’t going to talk him down. He’d already killed his own family. It was just a matter of delaying it for as long as possible so we could get armed response there.’
Jim’s soft sigh whispered over the top of her ear as he continued to take his samples of blood and tissue from the back of her head.
‘What happened when PC Gardner was shot?’
Thick fog whirled to mask the memory. Determined to push through it, Jenna focused. ‘I dropped to the floor with Poppy.’
‘You protected her.
‘It was instinct. There wasn’t even a conscious thought, I just grabbed her and hit the ground. I was face down. Poppy underneath me.’ She raised her hand and this time Jim allowed her to touch her face as he’d already conducted evidence-gathering in that area. She touched her fingertips across her grazed skin, drawing in a sharp breath at the sting of it. ‘My forehead hit the ground. It hurts.’
‘We’ll call the doctor back in a moment. Get you cleaned up.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What happened next?’
‘Gunshots.’
‘How many?’
She searched her memory. ‘A million.’
‘Think it through, we’ll need your account for continuity. Keep in mind perceptual distortion.’
Aware of that factor, Jenna reined herself in. Played the scene over in her head again, again, again.
The first shot fired by Gordon Lawrence. She fell. Another gunshot echoed. It had sounded like three, but she knew there were only two shots fired.
Gunshot ricocheted around and around. And the reality of why Jim was taking swabs from the back of her head, her neck, her shoulders pushed through. Tiny tremors shuddered from her core outwards in ever-widening ripples to wrack her body as her insides turned to water.
Jim wrapped a steadying hand around her elbow. ‘Jenna?’
She shook off the invading chill and raised her head. ‘Am I done? Can I shower now?’
Jim stepped back and stripped off his gloves. He slipped them into a small plastic bag leaving him with a second pair he wore underneath. ‘I need your clothes.’
Her fingers twitched ready to rip the clothes from her back, she couldn’t divest herself of them fast enough. It didn’t matter that Jim was about to see her stark naked, it didn’t matter she had to preserve all forensic evidence. She needed to be out of them immediately.
With shaking hands, Jenna stripped her jacket from her body. As she turned to place it in the forensic evidence bag, her gaze clashed with Jim’s measured pewter one and every flight instinct dried up in an instant.
Tensile steel strengthened her backbone and she drew herself erect. This was her job. She’d do it.
She toed her boots from her feet and let Jim pick them up as she unbuttoned her trousers, slid the zip down and let them slither down her legs to the floor. Each item was bagged by Jim, labelled, sealed.
Jenna glanced at her white T-shirt. The front V of it was soaked in blood and, if she wasn’t mistaken, matted hair with a tiny piece of skull. As she raised her head, Jim leaned in to pluck the sample from her chest with a neat pair of tweezers.
‘Almost missed that little sucker. It must have been inside your jacket collar. Let me check a little closer.’
He dipped his head, so the small thinning patch on the top was visible. An hysterical giggle bubbled up her throat until she could do nothing but hold her breath. The inappropriateness of it whirled through her mind. It made no difference that she knew it was her coping mechanism at the sensory overload taking place. If she let it burst free, Jim would raise his head and bestow one of his cool, assessing stares to frighten the crap out of her. He’d not had to do that for the past several years with her, but she’d witnessed it plenty of times when he’d turned it on newbies. Even his own son.
She screwed her eyes closed and clamped down on the laughter. When she opened them again, Jim was nose to nose with her. Almost cross-eyed, Jenna focused on him.
‘Are we okay?’
She gave a jerky nod. ‘Fine. Just fine.’
‘Excellent.’ He stepped back out of her personal space and reached for two more forensics bags. ‘I’ll step outside now. Slip your top off and put it in this bag. Your underwear needs to go in this one. Then you can slip on a hospital gown and call me back in.’
Jenna whipped off her top and shoved it in the bag. She took the proffered hospital gown from a silent, supportive Fliss, slipped it over her head before she unclipped her bra and whipped it from underneath. As she tugged it into place, she pushed her knickers down her legs and flicked them off the end of her feet.
Pain vibrated through her knees as she straightened, and she bent low again to take a peep. No clear memory of her fall existed, but the dark red on both knees promised that there was plenty of bruising to come out over the next few days.
‘Are you decent?’
Jenna shot upright and yanked the hospital gown together over her arse as Jim’s voice came from the other side of the partially closed door. She slipped back onto the bed and tugged the pristine white sheet up to cover her naked legs.
As Jim came back into the room, Jenna searched his face. ‘Can I have a shower?’
His lips twitched, eyes filled with affection. ‘Yes, Jenna, you can have a shower.’
54
Thursday 23 April 1800 hours
Sometimes the job was difficult, often tedious. Occasionally, she hardened her heart to the evilness and atrocities people inflicted on one another. Once in a while, however, a case wrenched her heart out and left trailing arteries in its wake so she would never forget.
DS Jenna Morgan marched side by side with DC Mason Ellis to the elegant double-frontage doors painted in muted Georgian blue grey.
Trudy Maxwell swung the doors wide and stepped back as they approached. A broad smile on her face, her eyes softened as she ran her gaze over Jenna, admiration and respect lurking in their depths. ‘Do come in. I’ll get you coffee in a moment, but I’m sure you’re anxious to see her.’