Page 131 of Slack Tide Kill

She dropped her phone to the table and buried her head in her hands. It wasn't right, but she'd helped Brown do it. Even if the article helped her, it could destroy Mayhew. She tried to think of some way the blame could be lessened, the attack leavened, but came up with nothing.

This was the deal, she realized. This was the price, and there was no undoing it now.

Her phone rang. Sally flinched and checked the screen.

McMaster.

Too soon. She wasn't ready. But there was no slowing this thing down now. She steeled herself and answered.

"Rogers."

"You've been busy," came McMaster's voice, blunt and implacable. "This piece in the Gaze? I did not expect that from you."

"I know."

He let a solitary laugh. "Shocked you too? Get in bed with a rag like that, you should expect nothing less." A moment passed. "Well, it's moving fast already, and who knows where this bag of shit ends up bursting? I think I can predict the outcome, though."

"Sir?"

"You've made enemies here, Rogers. On one hand, well played. On another, you've damned your own DCI. Took a pop at me too. I don't take it personally, but others will." Another pause. "Nobody will want to work with you again. But here's the positive. The countdown's off. In minutes, I'm going to make a statement, in which I am going to applaud your work and try and give some cover to your DCI."

He paused. Sally waited, mouth dry.

"There is no ultimatum," he finished. "There never was. You are still on the case."

Sally blinked. Was it that simple? "I'm back on Dungeness?"

"Technically, you were never off it. There was nothing official."

Relief flooded through Sally. "Thank you, sir."

"Fuck you, Rogers. Solve the damn case, and never pull this shit again."

He hung up.

Sally held the phone to her ear a moment longer, gazing out of the window at the people flowing by outside, all oblivious.

Was it worth the cost?

She didn't know. It had to be. At least now she had a chance.

57 BACK TO GRAY

Sally staggered from the coffee shop into the bright light of another gray day. Cars rolled by, people passed, a gentle wind blew. She caught a fragment of audio from a passing truck.

'– amber weather advisory in place for the south coast, which will see rainfall in excess of–'

She stood still, trying to grasp hold of the moment. Back to Dungeness. She brought up her phone and summoned a taxi. As they pulled away and London passed by outside, the case came washing back over her. Richter. Bledd. Mensah. A killer who'd outfoxed them all, who'd killed a police officer and who wasn't done yet.

Her phone turned in her fingers. There was one call she still had to make. She dreaded it, but if there was anyone she needed now, it was her partner.

She hit dial, and Liam answered.

"Hey, Sally." His voice sounded tired, half-defeated, but also somehow different.

"Hey, Liam," she answered, cautious. "How are things there?"

"Oh, you know. Mad. We had a CTP expert in yesterday; now there's armed officers crawling all over Rye."