Chapter 59
Chapter fifty-nine
They settled into bed, mugs of hot chocolate on the bedside tables, pillows plumped and stacked behind them. Matty lay curled into Sloan’s side, under one arm.
“It was horrible,” she said quietly. The cell flashed back—pale blue walls, a slab that might as well have been concrete for a bed. “They put me in a cell.”
Sloan’s arm tightened around her protectively. Her jaw set. “Horrific.” She kissed the top of Matty’s head. “Why did they arrest you?”
“I’d just got home. I knew something was off the second I saw him, but I didn’t—”
“Who’s him?”
“I don’t know who he was. One of Brandon’s friends, I assumed, only he didn’t look friendly.
And Brandon didn’t look like he’d expected me home.
” Her fingers clenched and unclenched around Sloan’s pyjamas under the covers.
“I went straight to my room and started pulling clothes into my bag. I just wanted to get out of there. Then there was this massive crash and feet thundering up the stairs. It scared me. Before I could do anything, my door burst open. Next thing, I was on the bed, arms wrenched behind my back, cuffs biting into my wrists.”
Sloan reached for a mug, held it to Matty’s lips, and let her sip before taking one herself. She set it back on the bedside table.
“I think the man is a drug dealer and Brandon is—” Matty shook her head.
“I don’t know. But he lied to the police about Sarah.
Said he didn’t know who she was…had never heard of her.
” Her voice rose, “She literally lives there. We’ve had breakfast together…
cups of tea at the kitchen table. How can he say he doesn’t know her? ”
Sloan went still at the word dealer, something hard and old catching in her chest. “I don’t know,” she said. “The detective asked me about her.”
“You?” Matty pushed herself up to look Sloan in the face, confusion flashing across Matty’s own. “When did—”
“When you didn’t come back, I went to your flat.” Sloan kept her voice steady, but her hand stayed firm on Matty’s hip. “There was an officer guarding it. He sent me to the station and told me to speak to Detective Saint. Which I did.”
“He spoke to you?”
“He came out after about an hour. Confirmed you were there and that I should probably think about a solicitor for you.” Sloan exhaled through her nose. “Then he asked about your living arrangements. If I’d been to the flat. Who I’d seen.”
“So you told him about Sarah?”
Sloan nodded. “Of course. She let me in.”
Matty sank back down and sighed. “So he has to believe me that she exists.”
Silence filled the air for a moment before Matty spoke again.
“They think I’m some sort of criminal mastermind behind a drug ring on Bath Street. That my job at Art is a ruse to sell recreational drugs.”
“There must be more to it.” Sloan’s voice went tight. “Why would they think you had anything to do with drugs?”
Matty sighed. “Because they found some.”
Sloan straightened, her arm sliding away as the words hit. “What do you mean? Brandon hid it in your room?”
“No.” Matty shook her head, cheeks burning. “They found something in my bag. Something I’d forgotten all about.”
“What?” Sloan snapped, her voice rising.
“Just a couple of joints. I bought them off Brandon ages ago—I don’t even know why—but they were in my bag and they found them.”
Sloan threw the covers back and got out of bed. “I told you—”
“I don’t do drugs.” Matty was up on her knees now, facing her. “I don’t.”
“Your bag says different.” Sloan’s mouth was tight. “How could you be so stupid?”
“Because I’m just human.” Matty’s eyes shone, angry and hurt. “I’m not like you, Sloan. All put together and organised. I made a mistake and now I’m paying for it, and the last thing I need is my girlfriend getting all judgemental about it.”
The bedroom door opened. “Christ, alive,” Gloria said from the doorway, leaning on her stick. “Can you two keep it down? It’s bad enough when you’re at it.”
Sloan turned on Gloria. “You’ve never heard a thing. Stop being melodramatic.”
“Well, I’m hearing a thing now, aren’t I?” Gloria glared at Sloan, then turned her attention to Matty. “You’re a free woman, then?”
Matty nodded. “For now.” She looked back at Sloan. “Though my girlfriend seems to think I should be locked up.”
“I didn’t say that.” Sloan’s voice was ice.
“Oh, enough.” Gloria jabbed her stick once on the floorboards. “Pack it in, the pair of you. Downstairs. Now.”
She turned and shuffled out of the room.
Matty and Sloan watched her go before they both followed.
***
Matty told Gloria everything again while Sloan made a pot of tea. The older woman sat quietly in the chair and listened.
“And that’s when he pushed a photograph across the table.” Matty looked up as Sloan re-entered the room carrying a tray with tea things. She waited until Sloan placed it down before adding, “…of you in the pub with Brandon. And then me and Sloan arriving to take you home.”
Gloria’s face split into a grin, and she guffawed a laugh so loud it made Matty and Sloan jump. “Blimey. Caught red-handed.”
Sloan narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
By the side of Gloria’s chair was her handbag. She lifted it up and delved inside, pulling out a small plastic bag.
“I might’ve bought something off him.”
“That’s what he meant by ‘Gimme a call, Glo,’ wasn’t it?” Matty said, the penny finally dropping. “I wondered why he’d want to—” She caught Sloan’s face. “Anyway, why are you buying weed?”
Gloria’s grin turned smug. “Because I felt like it. She turned to Sloan, adding, “It reminded me of your dad, and I was already there, and this Brandon mentioned it, and…I’m not dead yet.”
“For God’s sake. Give me that.” Sloan snatched the baggie from Gloria. “We could have the police round here any minute wanting to talk to us about Matty, and you’ve got a bag of bloody weed in your handbag—bought from the very dealer she’s accused of being employed by.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” Gloria said, dry as dust, “I suppose it doesn’t sound quite so much fun.”
“What are you going to do with it?” Matty asked.
“We could smoke it,” Gloria said, hopeful.
Sloan rolled her eyes. “I’m going to flush it down the toilet.”
“No.” Matty stood. She held out her hand. “Could leave traces. I’ll take it outside and tip it into a drain.”
“That sounds—” Sloan handed it over. “Like a good idea.”
“Right. I’ll do it now while it’s still dark.” Matty looked at Sloan. “I’m sorry.”
Their fingers laced. They squeezed.
“I’ll be right back.”
Before she made it to the lounge door, Sloan called her back. “Matty?”
She stopped and turned. “Yes?”
Sloan’s eyes flicked down. “You need shoes.” She kicked off her slippers, bent down, and picked them up.
“Oh, that would probably be a good idea.”
Sloan handed them over. “Be quick. It’s freezing out there and I’ve only just warmed you up.”
She waved the little bag. “Trust me. The sooner it’s gone, the better.”
“Shame,” Gloria grumbled, sipping her tea instead. “Might’ve been fun.”
“Thank you, Stoner Slater,” Sloan said, turning to Gloria.
“Dramatic much?” Gloria had returned fire, but she couldn’t quite hide the small smile. “Loosen up, love. Might do you good.”
“I am perfectly fine with how I have fun, thank you.”
“I’m going to go deal with this while you two bicker,” Matty said once her feet were shoved into Sloan’s slippers. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”
“Yes, just what we need,” Gloria said, winking, “Another criminal in the house.”
Matty snorted, shaking her head as she headed for the door.
“You think you’re hilarious,” Sloan said to Gloria.
“No. I don’t think it. I am funny.” Gloria grinned. “And you know it.”
“I think I liked you better grumpy,” Sloan said, smiling back.