“Truth or dare: do you want to kiss me again?”
She wasn’t expecting that.
Four
Alex knew he wanted to be a police officer when he was fourteen and trying to explain to Jake exactly why it was a bad idea to take his dad’s car out for a drive without a licence or insurance. Jake had made the right choice, deciding instead that a horse was a better idea and had wreaked havoc in the nearby farm of a girl he liked, but no one had been injured – including Jake’s ego which had been a shame.
It was around that time there had been a huge hunt for a murder suspect in Leeds, the case fascinating Alex, especially because the inspector who was always interviewed by the media was youngish. Alex wanted to be him.
It was then he’d realised that there were professional boundaries. If he wanted to be a cop, then he had to be the sensible one of his family, because any official trouble meant he could be screwed. He’d gone to university because it was a Maynard essential, studied criminology and psychology and got straight into the force. He was a good cop, one who kept his personal and professional life separate, although that excluded a quick fling with a couple of his non-attached colleagues, all very discreet.
Because that was Alex. Discreet. Played by the rules.
Most of the time.
Because today he hadn’t played by any rules. He should’ve told Ste, who’d ended up being the officer looking at the break in, about Abby, that she had a different identity and was likely in up to her neck with something. He shouldn’t have offered to have her stay with him.
And he definitely shouldn’t have kissed her back.
Which meant he shouldn’t be bringing up kissing her again. Not when she was sitting in his lounge, a sweater hanging loosely off one shoulder, having had probably the shittiest day in a long time, telling him about how her sister was missing,
This was not what good cops did.
“Truth or dare: do you want to kiss me again?”
He was hoping the answer was yes. Abby had intrigued him since she’d started working at Scott’s bar. Secretive, quiet and she noticed everything. Plus, she was beautiful. Too skinny at the moment, and he figured she wasn’t looking after herself properly, but she had the sort of athletic figure he’d allowed to star in his fantasies.
He’d kind of known she had a bit of a crush – he could pick up on people’s behaviours – and it had made him feel like a hero.
She sat up straighter. “Truth.”
He saw her cheeks pink over but he didn’t make a move, knowing it was making him look like an arrogant arse.
“But I’m not sure I should. Things are complicated as they are.”
She was right, but the words did not sit well.
“My turn.” Her eyes hadn’t left his. “Truth or dare: do you want to kiss me?”
“Truth.” He didn’t even pause to think about his answer. “Yes. But you’re right, it’s complicated enough.”
Silence settled between them. She clutched her tea. Alex fiddled with the fur on Hansel’s head.
“Tilly was in a relationship with Kenny Gallagher. I don’t know if you know the name.”
It was information that fell from nowhere. She was starting to trust him.
“I do. He’s one of Alfie Fletcher’s associates. Pretty low down the pecking order and wanting to rise up. He’s been quiet for the last few months. Lying low.” Alex knew more. This was his current assignment. Severton. Gangs. Big cities where there was a drug war brewing, or rather boiling over and it had been known for some time that Severton’s religious organisation – or cult, as Alex preferred to call it – was used as a front for money laundering for one of the gangs.
“I think Kenny’s rivals might’ve had something to do with Tilly going missing.” Her voice was quiet but the worry in it was deafening. “That was why I came to Severton.”
“To track her down?”
“I thought someone who worked for Tony Jones might’ve taken her.”
Alex didn’t say anything. Tony Jones and Alfie Fletcher were the men he’d been trying to dig up enough dirt on to at least trigger an investigation. Only Garrison kept dusting that dirt away. He also knew that if Abby was digging around, she’d be on their radar and that wasn’t a good place to be. In fact, it was a dangerous place to be.
Deadly.
“What have you done to try to find her?”
“Disappeared. Changed my identity. Hired a PI. Tried to get more information about the church at Felley Manor. Spent some time in Manchester. I even tried to get involved with someone from Alfie’s gang to see if I could find anything out, but I was too scared. I had a note pushed through my door, threatening me with awful things. It had information on it that showed me how much they knew about me, where I was and what I was doing – planning to do. So I couldn’t be Amelia anymore. I went to the police and they dismissed it. Then I came here. Dyed my hair. Became Abby.” She looked up at him, biting her lips together.
The tiredness she was feeling was palpable. Alex wondered what it would be like just to hold her, let her take some of his energy.
Only problem was, he wasn’t sure that he just wanted to hold her.
“Who was the police officer you showed the note to?”
She shook her head. “I’ve written it down. And the name of the person who called me back.”
He had a feeling he knew who had called her back; an inspector who was in Manchester at the time.
“What was your goal with coming here? Where was this going to end?”
She shrugged. “I’d find Tilly. Or at least find out what happened to her. It’s the not knowing – is she alive or dead? If she’s alive, how is she? I couldn’t even say that to myself a few months ago, thinking about what she might be going through or have gone through, but it’s like now I’ve become hardened to it.”
“That’s what happens. You learn that some things are out of your control. Is there anything you’ve done in the last few months that means either of those gangs know about you?” This was key now. If there had been something different to bring attention her way, he had to get her out of Severton.
“No. But I haven’t heard anything from the man I hired as a PI. I’ve still been paying him, but for the last two months, there’s been nothing. I’ve called and emailed…”
“What number did you call from?” He interrupted her, the whisky he’d drank evaporating into nothing.
“A pay-as-you-go mobile registered in a false name. My emails were from a generic account. I used library computers to check them from. He was paid via PayPal and the card was a pre-pay. He also had no idea I was trying to find my sister – he thought I was a man and she was my ex-girlfriend.”
“Trust no one.”
Abby nodded. “It feels like a relief to tell someone.”
There was another blanket of silence.
“Last year, when there were the fires on the moor, you found a body in one of the buildings. Was it ever identified?”
He could tell it was the question she’d been desperate to ask for the last half an hour.
“No. There was no match to anything on record. But we know she’d given birth and it was likely the body had been there for at least a couple of years. I don’t think it would be your sister.”