AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If we don’t break him, we’ll certainly get to Chanel. But for now, you sort that out. I have a suspect to interrogate. Please, no more interruptions, no matter what. We’re reaching a critical stage now,” Kerry said, turning her head in the direction of the returning footsteps.
With a despairing sigh, May trailed away, heading for the back office.
The pain and worry in the mother’s eyes felt etched in her mind. She knew this was linked. She felt it. But she hadn’t been able to persuade her sister how serious she thought this was.
She slumped down at the desk. Owen sat down opposite her.
“May, I believe you. I think you’re right,” he said earnestly.
She shook her head, unwilling to even look at him.
“Kerry won’t take it seriously. And she’s the FBI agent. Maybe we’re wrong. If we try to push it, we might end up damaging the case.”
Owen shook his head stubbornly. “You’re the best investigator I know. You’ve never damaged a case. You always have the best personal insight into a situation, and can read people better than anyone else. I believe in you, May.”
She stared at him, surprised by the emotion in his words, feeling a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support. In fact, she found herself blushing again. There was something about the tone of his voice that reinforced to her this was not just professional praise. He was sharing his own personal feelings for her, and that made her feel strangely short of breath.
“What if there’s another explanation for this, another reason behind it, that we haven’t thought of yet?” he continued.
“Do you really think there is?” May asked. She realized how much she trusted his insight, too. If he instinctively felt there was more still to explore, then May was going to take that seriously.
“There might be,” Owen insisted. “We’re the locals. We have local knowledge, May. What aren’t we seeing? What have we missed, in all the excitement with the FBI getting involved?”
May raised her head and stared into Owen’s brown eyes. He looked like he meant what he said. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort her. And his argument was sound. They did have local knowledge, and hadn’t used it enough so far.
“Maybe we have missed something,” she said. “Let’s get the file and have one more look.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Sitting in the back office, feeling as if the pressure was bearing down on her like an actual weight, May pulled together everything they had on the case so far. It was disturbingly little. The evidence was scanty. From a missing person case, to having two murder victims; things had escalated in the space of a day.
Now a third had been taken. She was sure of it. The killer was gaining confidence. Perhaps becoming reckless. Or having started, he was now on an unstoppable arc that would only end with his arrest or death. Until then, the whole community might remain in danger.
“Does Chanel South have any connection with Callum? Any connection with any football player?” Owen asked.
That was a good idea, May thought. Involvement with Jessop needed to be ruled out. But she shook her head. “If there’s one, it’s so weak that not even her mother knew about it. She’s in a long-distance relationship. And Jessop did mention that Shawna and Emily had been the only two problematic relationships for Callum.”
“So either it’s not connected, and she’s gone for a different reason, or it is connected. With the other disappearances, I mean,” Owen said. “And if it is connected, then it means it’s someone else. Which is what I feel we’ve both suspected for a while.”
“Yes. It was the theatrics of the scene that made me feel there was more to it.”
“Exactly.” Owen nodded intently. “It was telling a story. I thought to myself, when I saw that, it was someone wanting us to see something. Not just see it, but perceive it his way.”
“If Jessop was a murderer—which I don’t think he is—I feel he would have done things differently.”
“Exactly. And he didn’t need to kill anyone. With pockets as deep as his, he could just pay people off. That’s much more effective, really. Money talks. And if it’s done in the right way, you don’t go to jail,” Owen said thoughtfully.
May glanced at him, feeling startled.
“Sorry,” Owen said. “It’s my accounting background, before joining the police. You know, my past job was pretty routine most of the time, but occasionally it was fascinating. We did forensic investigations into a couple of clients on behalf of people. We came across that once or twice,” Owen explained.
“I see,” May said.
What Owen had said about the past was making her think. There was something nagging at her mind. A faint memory. No more than a ghost of a thought.
The past. What did it mean?
“There’s something I want to remember but I can’t, and I think it’s important. I’m sure of it. Something that happened a while ago, but I can’t figure out what it is,” she said, frustrated.
