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Leanne approached the door slowly, meeting Kim’s gaze and holding it. ‘It’s just the way it has to be.’
‘So we’re done?’ Kim asked.
Leanne nodded, taking a step closer.
‘You’ve changed your number?’
‘Yes,’ she said, taking another step.
‘You’ve made sure I can never reach you?’
Leanne shook her head. Only a foot separated them.
Kim held out her hand. ‘Then give me my fucking house key back.’
There was no evidence of any break-in. Leanne must have had a copy made when she was her protection officer.
Leanne placed the key into her palm and gave her a half-smile before stepping out of the door.
Kim slammed it shut behind her and stood against it.
Her mind was whizzing with an unfamiliar sensation. She felt as though she’d just lost something she’d never had in the first place.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
It was 7.05a.m. when Kim stepped out of the Bowl into the squad room. Both Penn and Stacey had rolled in at 6.45a.m. and taken quick showers in the locker rooms to freshen up. They’d had a long night which was probably going to run into a long day while they tried to make some progress on finding the killer.
Her own night had been less than restful. The presence of Leanne in her home again had been unsettling and yet familiar. Her initial shock had been replaced with an acceptance that, like her, Leanne would never do anything conventional like knock on the door. Leanne didn’t play by anyone else’s rules, which Kim could only respect.
She knew she’d used her one opportunity to make contact with Leanne and that there’d be no other chances. She’d made it clear they wouldn’t meet again and, much as Kim despised the woman, for some reason, the thought saddened her.
It hadn’t been the only thing troubling her during the night as her mind had processed the events of the day, but she’d worry more about that later.
‘Okay, folks, someone explain to me why Dean Newton isn’t dead,’ Kim said.
‘Cos we were watching him?’ Penn asked.
‘He went out to get a paper at what time?’ she pushed.
‘Six oh three,’ Penn answered.
‘Anyone around?’
‘On Hollytree?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow. It was hardly awash with the gainfully employed.
‘Exactly. The man has a habit of going out for a newspaper when there’s no one else around. Our killer seems to know the movements of his victims. So why is he not dead already?’
‘Maybe he’s done,’ Penn suggested.
‘But why?’ she insisted. ‘We know of no incident that involved just the three of them.’
‘He’s not done,’ Alison offered.
‘Jesus, I forgot you were here,’ Kim said. ‘Feel free to tell us why not.’
‘Because he told you from the outset what he was going for. His first tweet stated his intended number of victims. He didn’t say one of three. He clearly wants all members of the Psycho Six dead.’
‘Bloody hell, Alison, I could work that out myself. Give me something I don’t know,’ Kim begged. ‘You gotta be up to speed by now.’
