Chapter 2

TWO

Detective Constable Morgan Brookes was curled up on the sofa.

She’d moved it into the bay window in the front room so she could watch and listen to the storm whilst reading the latest instalment of her favourite Detective Josie Quinn series by Lisa Regan.

Ben had bought her the paperback as a surprise, and she had come home from a relatively peaceful day at work to hide under a throw and read.

‘That’s some storm, are you not scared you’ll get struck by lightning? I mean you may as well have pulled the sofa out into the front garden to watch it.’

‘No, I love it so much – and that’s not a bad idea.’ Ben looked horrified.

‘Don’t you dare go sit out there, Morgan, I mean it. Last thing we need is for you to get taken out by a bolt of lightning and all that would be left is your Docs.’

Morgan laughed. ‘What a way to go though, and it would be the boots that saved me, have you seen how thick the rubber soles are? You know what I’d really like?’

‘I’m scared to ask.’

‘A huge wraparound porch, like they have in all the movies, where they have rocking chairs and can sit and drink iced tea in the summer, then watch all the thunderstorms without getting wet. It would be so lovely, we could have a rocking chair each and curl up under warm blankets whilst the storm raged around us.’

Ben was shaking his head. ‘I do sometimes doubt your sanity, or maybe you read too many books that fill your head with wild ideas.’

Morgan thought about throwing her book at him then decided against it; she didn’t want to lose her page. ‘I get it from my aunt Ettie; she loves storms too. It’s a wild, witchy woman thing you know, embracing the power of nature and finding beauty in it.’

‘Ah, yes. I forgot all about your witchy heritage. How is Ettie? I haven’t seen her for too long.’

‘She’s good, busy with her herbal teas and remedies. She still hasn’t forgiven you for arresting her, but at least she didn’t hex you.’

His eyes were so wide she thought they might pop out of their sockets.

Changing the subject he asked, ‘Are you hungry?’

Morgan stretched and before she could answer, Kevin, their adopted cat, popped his head out from under the throw, where he was curled up next to her, and miaowed.

‘I wasn’t talking to you, Kevin, you’re always hungry.’

Laughing, Morgan nodded. ‘He’s right, Kev, you eat way too much. Yes, I’m hungry, Ben, what are we having for tea?’

‘Can’t be bothered cooking, do you fancy a takeaway?’

‘I fancy anything.’

‘Does that include me?’

‘It always includes you. Should we get Thai?’

Ben’s phone began to ring at exactly the same time as hers, and they groaned in unison.

‘No way.’ Morgan ignored hers, but Ben was not just her partner but also her boss. He could not have the pleasure of not answering this one.

‘Matthews.’

She couldn’t hear the conversation, but she knew from Ben’s tone of voice and head nodding that they were being called out.

She glanced out of the window at the dark sky and rain.

The thunder had eased a little. Just an occasional grumble in the distance, and a random flash of brilliant white light as it streaked across the sky. He hung up.

‘Cops went to an abandoned nine nine nine call and found a woman with a fatal throat injury in an empty hotel in Keswick.’

Morgan sat up. ‘Oh Lord, bless her. What was she doing there in a thunderstorm?’

‘Security guard doing her rounds.’

A tight knot began to twist inside of Morgan’s stomach; she stood up leaving Kevin looking disgruntled.

‘Suspicious?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s been far too q—’

Ben’s finger softly pressed against her lips stopping her mid-word. ‘Do not say the q word, you know that it unleashes holy hell and utter madness into the world.’

‘Okay, sorry, how about peaceful?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s been nice is what it’s been. We’ve had a full month of bliss; it was never going to last.’

‘I suppose not.’

Morgan was already lacing up her Doc Martens boots. Ben opened the hallway cupboard door to retrieve their waterproof jackets. By the time they were dressed and ready to go, it looked as if they were going hiking one of the beautiful Lake District fells and not to work a crime scene.

The rain had stopped by the time Ben reached the entrance to the Keswick Manor Hotel. There was a police van parked outside, not that anyone would be coming up here. It was on a quiet road that didn’t get much traffic.

The officer waved them through, and Morgan smiled as they passed.

As the hotel came into view with a battered, old white Rydal Falls Security van parked in front of it, Morgan was instantly transported back to her childhood.

She was ten years old, sitting in the back of Stan’s beat-up Corsa that he’d cleaned especially to bring Sylvia here for a surprise birthday visit, all three of them wearing their Sunday best. Stan in his only suit that he wore for weddings, funerals and job interviews.

Morgan had an emerald-green dress that Sylvia had made for her to match a similar version of hers.

She remembered Sylvia telling her how the green brought out the beautiful copper of her hair and made her look so pretty.

At the time Morgan had hated being ginger, the boys in her class were always calling her gingernut and it made her so mad.

Sylvia had caught her just in time one day when she’d finished school and gone straight into the bathroom with her mum’s sharp dressmaking scissors, about to chop every strand of her copper hair off.

Sylvia had gently taken them from her and told her how beautiful she was, how her hair was special because it glinted like fire in the sunlight and it was her superpower.

Sylvia had made her feel much better about herself and, from then on, she’d begun to stick up for herself whenever they called her names, and after a few fights they stopped calling her names.

She hadn’t thought about that for a long time, but Sylvia had been fighting her corner and naturally practised lifting other women up to feel good about themselves when it wasn’t the in thing to do.

How Morgan wished she could have done the same for her that day she’d decided to take her life – that regret would always stay with her no matter what.

‘Wow, this is so sad. I remember coming here with Sylvia and Stan for her birthday when I was about ten, and it was so beautiful then. It was really posh, and we had afternoon tea in a room that looked down onto the gardens that were full of pretty roses. There were these tiny little cucumber and salmon triangle-shaped sandwiches, and cakes. Stan tried not to complain, but his face had been a picture when they brought it out, and when we left, he drove us straight to the chippy to get some real food. That was a good day though. I’d forgotten all about it until just now. ’

Ben was quiet and she glanced at him. ‘You okay?’

He nodded. ‘We had our wedding reception here.’

Morgan reached out and squeezed Ben’s fingers. He must be thinking about Cindy, and she could feel his heart hammering. ‘It was a popular wedding venue as well back in the day,’ she said sadly.

He nodded. ‘It was, Cindy picked it. Not me, I wasn’t fussed where we went but she liked it because her friends had used it, so that meant we did. Cost a bloody fortune back then as well.’

‘Weddings are expensive, unless you elope.’

Ben parked behind the police van that had been abandoned, the blue lights still flashing. Next to it an ambulance’s lights were also pulsating.

He growled. ‘For God’s sake, it drives me insane. Why have they still got their blues on? It’s not as if it’s a public area.’

Morgan smiled, flashing lights and sirens were one of Ben’s pet hates as well as inconsiderate parking of vans. Amber was standing inside the entrance, sheltering.

Ben pointed at the lights. ‘Who’s driving that?’

‘Scotty.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Where is he?’

She pointed upstairs. ‘With the body, said he didn’t want to leave her. Paramedics are up there too.’

Morgan frowned. ‘Oh no, does he know her?’

‘Friends with her sister apparently. Control asked me to attend, but I told them I don’t have a clue what I’m doing and to call you guys out, sorry.’

‘No worries. Amber, can you wait for Declan and send him up? Who is the duty CSI?’

‘Wendy is already upstairs; she was about to finish for the day when the call came in.’

They walked back to Ben’s car to get suited and booted. Morgan whispered, ‘Poor Scotty.’

‘Yeah, we’ve all been there. It’s not good, is it?’

Morgan walked into the hotel first. She paused and looked around.

It was so desolate now compared to the last time she was here.

Her gaze fell onto the broken radio at the bottom of the stairs; it was shattered into pieces.

If the body was upstairs and her radio was down here broken, something had to have scared her enough to drop it.

The knot in her stomach tightened even more.

She turned to Ben who was standing a few feet behind her.

‘He chased her; she dropped her radio either in fright or panicking and then ran upstairs.’

‘Why not run outside to her van?’

‘Did you see the rain earlier; it was horrendous. Or maybe she thought she’d be safer up there.

Jesus, Ben, that’s terrifying. If she’s a security guard, she must be used to patrolling empty buildings, so imagine what must have scared her up these stairs.

’ She thought of the storm that would have been raging outside and shuddered.

‘Lauren, Lauren.’

Both of them turned to see a huge guy standing in front of Amber who was expertly blocking him from coming inside.

‘You can’t come in here; it’s a crime scene.’ Her voice was clipped, no empathy, and Morgan shrugged at Ben.

She hurried to go speak to the man, who was running a hand over his shaved head.

‘Where’s Lauren? She said there was someone here over the radio and then it went dead. What do you mean it’s a crime scene?’

‘Does Lauren drive that van?’

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