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“If you love me, then you will do as I say and not see him again.”
Romilly feels a wave of repulsion. It starts in her stomach, radiating outward, triggering something in her brain. She feels sick as anger takes over, and she points a hard finger in her boyfriend’s face.
“You don’t. Fucking. Tell me what to do,” she shouts with each jab.
She walks away, pushing past him, through the house and to her study. She slams the door with all her strength, the bang echoing off the walls. Then she stands, furious tears streaming down her cheeks.
How dare he? How dare he command her in that way? Somewhere deep in her mind she knows she’s overreacting, that Phil isn’t her father, but she feels the rage, the pain. Once she’d left—the house, her father, and the dead girls far behind her—she’d resolved never to let that happen again. To be controlled.
But it isn’t just that.
She knows she’s not perfect. She knows she has more problems than the average woman, but somehow she thought she was still worthy of love. That someone could be with her no matter what. Despite her past. Despite the history that haunts her every turn.
She thought she could have it with Adam. But he had pushed her away.
And with one comment, Phil has done the same. There are conditions, rules attached to his love. She must do as he says. Obey him. She’d done that once, as a child. And she’d resolved, never again.
Romilly knows, deep in her heart, that no matter what she does, no matter what she says, she will always be the daughter of a serial killer. And because of that, she will always be alone.
CHAPTER
34
THE TWO MEN stand in silence, facing the whiteboard. Adam chances a look at his detective chief superintendent: Marsh’s face is still, his expression impossible to scrutinize. Then he turns.
“What’s your next move, Bishop?” he asks.
“We can assume she’s still alive—”
“Can we?”
Marsh says it quietly, so the other detectives in the room can’t hear.
“Yes,” Adam replies. “Yes, because otherwise …”
Adam doesn’t want to say it. Because otherwise, he’s out there, killing again. Because otherwise, Jamie will never forgive him. Because otherwise, what’s the fucking point. In all of this.
“And you think Cole has something to do with it?” Marsh says. “There are differences. For one, there are no signs of sexual assault on the new victims, where rape was a key part of Cole’s MO.”
“Noted,” Adam replies. “But how can it be anything else?”
“A calculating psychopath like Cole making the most of the situation? A new killer who somehow knows about the numbers? An obsessed acolyte of the Good Doctor? Someone who took advantage of a ready-made murder room, empty and waiting?” Marsh’s eyebrows are lowered, the disbelief clear on his face. “It could be any of those things. Cole didn’t actually tell you where Pippa was, did he?”
“No, but—”
Marsh waves a hand, dismissing his objections. “I’ll sign the warrant, don’t worry. Get the visitor logs and the CCTV from the prison. Have a look and see if there’s a way Cole could be talking to someone on the outside. Just don’t let it blinker you to other routes of inquiry, Adam.”
Adam nods, turning back to the board. But what is he missing? Is there another avenue he hasn’t explored?
He wants to ask Marsh what he would do. Get the benefit of the older, more experienced detective. His DCS is no newcomer to murder, no desk monkey at the top for political reasons. He served his time in Major Crimes, the SIO on multiple high-profile cases. But Adam can’t form the words. To ask for advice would be admitting defeat, and he wants to prove himself. That he can run this investigation and do it alone.
But before Adam can articulate any of this out loud, Quinn rushes up to their side.
“Boss,” she says, breathless and rushed, “we have it.”
“Have what?”
“The guy. Our offender. Last night. We have him on CCTV.”
