Chapter Twelve Exposed Rafters #2
Teddy hesitated a moment, then headed for the stairs, and Jake listened until the bathroom door closed before letting his shoulders drop and slumped further back against the counter, combing a hand through his hair.
A minute later, footsteps echoed from the hallway, and he peered up to Harrison at the kitchen entrance.
The light above the sink caught the angles of his face that, yeah, looked tired and weary and really needed more sleep that hadn’t been taken at an odd angle on a sofa in his clothes with only a blanket draped over him for comfort.
But also…really fucking handsome.
Which was unfortunate.
“PC Murray’s running through the current investigation with your parents.” Harrison angled his head back to the front room. “Explaining what’s happening with the missing girl.”
Jake chewed on his lip. “Okay.”
“She’ll also act as the Family Liaison Officer for them from now on. If your parents need updates, support, or have questions, she’ll be their contact.”
“Right.” Jake was suddenly aware of the mud drying on his boots, the cold still clinging to his skin, the faint grease from the pastry on his fingers.
It all felt a world away from the man in front of him.
Clean, composed, put together as if he belonged somewhere better.
He tipped his chin, trying to shake it off. “So… who’s mine?”
“Who’s your what?”
“Liaison. Police contact.”
Harrison blinked. “She’s the liaison officer for the Whitton family. That includes you.”
Jake held his gaze.
Didn’t look away.
He didn’t know why, nor really understand the impulse fully himself.
Maybe it was the last twenty-four hours.
Maybe it was the way Harrison looked at him as if he could see straight through the layers Jake had spent years building.
Or maybe it was simpler. Two men who’d both lost something and were now maybe reaching for something else.
Either way, the words slipped out before he could stop them. “What if I want you?”
Jake watched the rise of Harrison’s chest under his coat with his deep inhale.
And for a fleeting second, there was colour in his cheeks, too.
But the detective looked away, as if the contact had suddenly become too much.
And Jake’s stomach twisted at having been so forward.
Whatever this strange pull was between them, Jake had the faint, nagging suspicion it wasn’t entirely one-sided.
But that meant nothing. They were just two men standing on the same road of grief, recognising the shape of it in each other.
That was all.
Nothing more.
Harrison looked back at him, the professional mask sliding neatly back into place. “If you have information for the investigation, you can ask for me if that makes you more comfortable.”
Jake almost laughed. “Comfortable?”
“I realise nothing about the last twenty-four hours has been comfortable for you or your family.” His voice softened enough to sound human. “For that, I can only sympathise.”
Jake scrubbed a hand over his face.
God.
He was tired.
A tired living somewhere deeper than sleep could fix.
“Have you found summat?” Jake asked. “That why you’re here?”
Harrison moved a little further into the kitchen, stopping near the table but not sitting down. Not settling. Still every inch the detective conducting an interview.
“As you’re aware, there are similarities between this current disappearance and your sister’s case, and I’m new to Hartswick CID, so I needed time to review the original investigation file and understand what happened thirteen years ago.”
Jake tutted. “Bet that made for cheerful reading.”
Harrison didn’t react to the edge in Jake’s voice.
“I’ve reviewed the original file. And spoken to several of the officers who worked the case.
I’m following up on certain lines of inquiry.
But paperwork and statements only tell part of the story.
” He held Jake’s gaze. “So what I’d like is to hear directly from you what happened. ”
Jake gave himself a moment. Not that he needed to think about it.
He didn’t. That night lived in his head on a constant loop.
He replayed it daily. Sometimes hourly. Thirteen years later, he still hadn’t escaped it.
But saying it aloud again, laying it out for another detective, another report, another file that would eventually gather dust somewhere, felt like ripping open a wound that had never closed properly.
And every time he did it, it killed something in him.
Killed something in her, too.
Then he looked at Harrison. Steady. Patient.
His eyes were soft with attention; pen poised over the notebook, but not yet moving.
And when he gave a small, encouraging nod, the corner of his mouth lifted, and that somehow made Jake feel as if this time might actually matter. Could make a difference.
So he spoke.
“Robyn came to see my, what should’ve been, last gig with Static Youth at the King’s Arms. Teddy were about six months old.
I don’t think she’d left his side since he were born.
” He gestured vaguely around the house. “They lived here. With Mum and Dad. And even though the folks wanted to come see me play at the pub, they stayed home with Teddy so Robyn could instead.”
Harrison had his notebook open, pen ready, but hadn’t written anything yet. Maybe there was nothing new left to write.
“Robyn came in with me. But after the set, she were desperate to get back to Teddy. She hated leaving him.” Jake lowered his head, scrubbing a hand over his face as the memory pressed in.
Because this was the part that never stopped hurting.
“Pack-down took ages cause people kept coming up to me. Saying goodbye. Wanting photos. Signatures. So Robyn said she’d walk home. ”
Jake looked up again. Met those harrowing brown eyes.
“I told her not to. Told her to wait for me. But she din’t. She said she’d see me back here.” He drifted his gaze towards the front door without meaning to. Like his father always did. “Then she walked out of the pub, and that was the last time I ever saw her.”
A tear fell, and Jake wiped it away, another falling directly into his mouth. Harrison waited. Letting the wave of grief wash over him and for Jake to get through it in his own time.
Then, as if he could tell Jake needed prompting or redirecting, he said, “What do you think went wrong with the previous investigation?”
Jake scoffed. “Better to ask what went right.”
Harrison nodded. But he didn’t write that down.
Jake sighed. “They fixated too much on her going missing voluntarily. The CCTV showed her walking towards the petrol station. She were taking the long route home because the streetlights were that way. But she stopped. Stands there. Waits a minute. Gets her phone out, and apparently that’s when the coppers say she switches it off.
Then she turns back the other way, looks around before stepping into the woodland. ”
Jake drew a breath, the old helplessness tightening his chest the same way it always did. The anger came with it, bubbling up hot and relentless.
“Aye, it’s odd.” Jake balled his fists. “Why’d she do that?
No idea. So the police came up with one.
That she didn’t want to go home. She had a change of mind and used the woodland to flee.
They held onto that so much that they stopped looking.
Then when they searched here, they found her diary which, aye, I know, didn’t look great.
She was suffering from post-natal depression.
But, fuck, she were nineteen years old. With a kid and the dad turned out to, well…
not be much of one. Nowt more than a sperm donor.
He left her to it. She’d missed her chance to do owt else.
We had little money. She couldn’t exactly go to work.
And I was leaving to start my life and, aye, she was depressed and struggling.
But she would not leave Teddy. She adored that baby. ”
Harrison listened. Intently. Jake could tell. There wasn’t any judgement, not like the others who kept telling him all the evidence pointed that way.
Then Harrison asked, “Why did you believe Andy Mitchell had something to do with Robyn’s disappearance?”
Jake forced the anger down before answering.
“He’d been following her for a while. Had a thing for her.
Asked her out loads of times. She always said no.
After that, he started showing up wherever she was.
The week before she went missing, I caught him outside our house.
Standing there. Staring up at her bedroom window. ”
Harrison cocked his head. “And what did you do?”
God, Jake hated this part. Hated knowing Harrison would now see him through that moment. Through the police report. Through the worst decision he’d ever made.
“I warned him.”
“You warned him?”
“Aye.” Jake rubbed the back of his neck.
“She were my big sister. Only a year older, but she’d looked after me growing up.
Helped me…come out to the folks. And I was about to leave town.
Leave her. I needed him to know I were still paying attention.
Still watching out for her, even though I were living my life.
So I told him, if he came near her, I’d see to it he wouldn’t be able to follow her again. ”
“What did he say?”
“Nowt. He went. And I thought I’d done enough, but, well…she vanished the following week.”
“And that made you think he was involved?”
“Course.”
“But he’d been at work that night.”
“Apparently.”
“You think otherwise?”
“I think there are many ways a man can leave that steel works with no one noticing. They get breaks, right? They’re not tied to the place.”
Harrison wrote that down. “Why did you break into his flat?”