Chapter Twenty-Three Beautiful Things
chapter twenty-three
Beautiful Things
Kenny was unravelling .
But he forced himself to keep his composure as he navigated the bustling A&E, moving past nurses, doctors, and patients while his mind reeled with the gravity of what had just happened.
That had been too close. Right under his nose, Drew Whitmore had been lurking at the university, blending in without a single red flag. He was so ordinary, so unassuming, that Kenny hadn’t even thought to suspect him. Why would he? According to his records, he was a local church goer with no priors. At least none that had made it to their records. Yet so deeply entwined with the Howells’ twisted spree, he’d flown under the radar, and Kenny doubted he’d stopped since Frank and Roisin’s incarceration. Killers didn’t stop. They couldn’t. Somewhere, there had to be other bodies bearing Drew’s mark, and the police would need to uncover them all. Starting with last year’s campus suicides.
It had been hours since Aaron’s voice had broken through his phone, pulling him back to the riverside, to the last place Jessica had been over twenty years ago. The same place she met her end. The very thought had Kenny’s stomach in knots, heart clenched with a mix of grief, dread, and fierce gratitude.
He’d been waiting at Heather’s, helping Jack piece together evidence from the roses Drew had used to taunt them. Alice hadn’t been home when Heather called her ex-husband to bring her back to the house for questioning. She’d snuck out, climbing through her bedroom window to meet Aaron, likely drawn out by the same manipulation Drew had used to reel her in, playing on her vulnerability from her parents’ divorce. As Kenny had suspected she might.
Sometimes he hated being right.
When Kenny had dropped everything to race to the river, he’d braced himself for the worst, expecting to find Aaron barely holding on, broken by the horrors surrounding him. Instead, as he pulled up and saw Alice slumped in the mud, bound and filthy, dressed in her Halloween costume as Wednesday Addams, his entire world shattered. He’d gathered her up, tucked her safely in his car, then pinged his location to Jack. He then ran towards where Alice had been, feeling the familiar twisting dread as he approached Jessica’s last resting place. But it wasn’t Jessica this time. It was Aaron. And Aaron— God , Aaron had saved Alice’s life. Maybe his own.
Now, Kenny paced the hospital hallway, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart, the fractured images of Drew, Aaron, and Alice swirling in his mind. He’d nearly lost everything. Every single thing. He wasn’t sure he still hadn’t lost them all.
Maybe he wasn’t allowed to have anything normal?
Jack was in Alice’s cubicle, speaking to her softly, while Heather and Dave sat on either side of her, visibly shaken but holding her close. Drew was being held for questioning, the wound in his leg attended to but not serious enough to keep him out of custody for long. Aaron had missed the femoral artery by millimetres, which would have caused Drew’s death within minutes. Whether Aaron knew or meant for that would go with him to the grave.
Also seen by the hospital, Aaron would be free to leave soon, his fate resting on whatever Jack could extract from Drew.
Finally, Jack stepped out of Alice’s cubicle, shutting his notepad and offering Kenny a steady look. He approached, weary but resolute, and for the first time that night, Kenny felt a glimmer of relief. Of hope.
“How are you holding up?” Jack asked, studying him.
“Me?”
“Yes, you . We always forget to ask you.”
Kenny tried to force a smile. “I’m…okay.”
Jack gave him a sceptical look, eyebrows raised.
“I’ll be okay,” Kenny added, steadier, though the lingering ache in his chest might never heal.
Jack nodded, and a hint of an apology crossed his face. “You were right.”
Kenny’s mouth tightened. “About which part?”
“How it was all connected. Aaron was a victim, not a suspect. Our killer wasn’t new to this. That he was someone hiding in plain sight. Someone who’d sneaked through the cracks. Hell, he was the Howells’ neighbour . And I’m going to guess part of the cult she was associated with.”
Sometimes Kenny really hated being right.
Because with every correct theory came another life, another family wrecked. How many more were out there? People like Drew, like Frank and Roisin, just blending in?
“And Jessica could be a victim of theirs. Or at least this arsehole’s.” Jack kept his voice low, as though not to startle him or for anyone to overhear him not using the correct term for perpetrator . “Hopefully, we’ll get a confession from him. But we’ll be taking that house apart, looking into everything. I’m pretty sure we searched it before, but we’ll tear it upside down. We’ll get him tied to it, eventually.”
“Look further,” Kenny said. “Wherever he’s been, there’ll be bodies. He’s been too good at this for there not to be.”
Kenny closed his eyes, sucking in a long, shuddering breath. He’d always suspected Jessica was part of the Howell murders, but hearing how the actual killer had long been free to kill and kill again reopened that painful wound. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, but Jack reached out, placing a hand on the back of his neck, guiding his gaze back to him.
“She’d be proud of you.”
Kenny’s throat tightened, and he blinked back the sudden sting of tears, catching his breath as Jack leaned forward, brushing a quick kiss to his cheek. It was instinctive. An unconscious act based on their history. Kenny couldn’t blame him for that. But Jack took a step back, clearing his throat as he nodded toward the cubicle beyond, where Alice lay in the gentle arms of her family.
Jessica’s killer had denied her that comfort.
“By the way,” Jack said with a small, almost wistful smile, “I like her. She’s exactly what you need.”
Kenny peered around Jack in time to catch Heather emerging, face softening with exhaustion. There was a weary grace about her, pulled thin but still holding. A mother being strong for her child.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Jack cast a quick smile Heather’s way. “We’ll be in touch, Ms Edwards.”
Heather nodded, gaze fractured. Jack gave Kenny a subtle wink as he left, blending into the bustle of uniforms and hospital staff filling the hallway.
Kenny jutted his chin towards the room. “How’s she doing?”
Heather’s eyes glimmered with a hint of relief before she glanced back over her shoulder at her daughter. “Physically? She’s okay. Mentally?” She looked at Kenny, vulnerability breaking through her usual resolve. “You’re the expert. You tell me. Will she get over this?”
He glanced through the open curtain, where Dave sat on the edge of Alice’s bed, holding her close, whispering soft reassurances as she huddled against him. Her haunted eyes darted over to the door, catching on Heather before shifting away, lost in some dark, unreachable space.
“With your help, she will,” Kenny said. “It’s going to be a long road, but she’s got you. And Dave. You’ll get her through it. Both of you.”
Heather pressed her lips together as she gathered herself. “Yeah.” She took a deep breath, glancing down the hallway to where Jack was talking to an officer stationed outside another hospital cubicle. Aaron’s cubicle.
“Do you…know him?” She nodded toward Jack.
Kenny cleared his throat, taking the moment to process her question. “Who?” he asked, though he knew exactly who she meant, needing a moment to gather his response.
“The detective?”
“Jack? Yeah.” Kenny allowed himself a brief nod, a slight smile. “We met when I was consulting on cases through my PhD work in Ryston.”
She accepted that, but she sensed more lay beneath the surface. She didn’t need to be a detective like Jack or a psychologist like him. A mother and teacher also honed the skills of knowing when someone wasn’t being entirely truthful.
“You seem close,” she said, watching Jack’s conversation from afar.
Kenny took a steadying breath. “You asked me before…about my longest relationship?”
Heather furrowed her brow. “Yeah.”
“It was with him.” The words were surprisingly easy once they were out.
Heather blinked, face tightening as she took it in. “You’re… gay?”
“Bi.” He stood tall, unabashed. As he should have weeks ago. “I’ve had relationships with both men and women. Jack was my longest.”
Heather glanced away for a moment, and he saw her take in the unexpected information, expression shifting. “You said they weren’t around anymore?”
“He wasn’t. Jack left for Glasgow eight years ago. We weren’t in contact during that time. But he came back recently. He’s engaged. Happy.”
“I see.” Heather’s shoulders relaxed, though she still seemed to process it, brow faintly creased. “Have you had long-term relationships with women?”
He sensed the root of her question: she didn’t want to feel like an experiment, another test in his search for balance, for the elusive certainty that never came easily. And as much as he sometimes questioned his own preferences, he knew his answer.
“Yes. Several before Jack. Vanessa was my longest, straight after him. Two and a half years. But in the interests of being transparent, she was…a rebound. So don’t ask her how it went. She has a tainted view of me.”
To be honest, so did Jack. But he doubted Heather would worry about that.
Heather tilted her neck. “And what am I?”
The question lingered between them, a fragile thing. Because who was she to Kenny? Someone to pass the time? To fill a gap left by years of drifting between stability and longing? Or was she a chance at something real, a potential for the stability he craved? Someone to stabilise him, to hold on to?
“You were someone I wanted to get to know better.”
“Were?”
Kenny inhaled a sharp breath. “I thought I was ready. For a relationship. But current circumstances prove I’m in no position to bring anyone into my chaos.”
Heather looked down, then back up at him, searching his face as if wanting to believe him, but not sure if she could. “Because being with you means this is regular?”
“It isn’t just the external that’s chaotic. It’s the internal, too. I’m so sorry, Heather. I’m so sorry for what Alice has been put through and how all this came to you.”
“This sounds ominously like you’re breaking up with me.”
“I should have been honest a while back. I wanted this to work. Was sort of desperate for it, so I blocked out all the reasons it couldn’t.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “I’d like to be your friend. To help you and Alice through this. But anything more isn’t something I can give right now.”
She nodded slowly. And Kenny felt the relief like a weight lifting from his shoulders.
“ Mummy !” Alice called from behind the curtain, fragile and desperate, as if the horrors of the night had stripped away every ounce of the teenage bravado she’d once worn like armour. No longer fourteen going on twenty-one. She was now desperate to be a child.
Heather’s maternal instinct took over. “Coming!” she called back, giving Kenny a last, searching look before heading back to her daughter. “I’d like to be friends, too. Take care, Kenny.”
“Hold her tight,” Kenny said, watching as she turned back, slipping into her daughter’s cubicle, pulling her into her arms.
He lingered for a moment, heart twisting as he watched them together, before turning and navigating the sterile corridor, each step laden with anticipation, toward Aaron’s cubicle. Jack and the officers were already gone, meaning Kenny could talk to him away from prying ears. But as he reached Aaron’s bed, he stopped short. It was empty. The only sign of his presence was a nurse tidying up the sheets. Panic clawed up his chest.
“Where’s Aaron Jones?”
“Discharged a few minutes ago.”
Kenny’s heart sank. He suspected Aaron would run. Flee. Probably find himself with a different name. In a different place. Once again, starting over. Once again, without the support he needed.
And maybe what hurt more, without him .
He had to tell himself it was for the best.