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‘Oh Jesus,’ Stacey said, burying her head in her hands. She knew little of the details surrounding her tormentor’s death, but she did know a second car had been involved.
The sickness in her stomach was overwhelming. There was a surrealness to sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of wine while trying to digest all that she’d been told.
Devon reached for her hand. ‘Babe, I know I shouldn’t have confronted him. There are many things I shouldn’t have done that night, and I know my actions have only made things worse for you. But when I saw him outside knowing what he’d put you through, I just saw red.’
But how deep a shade of red was the question that shot into Stacey’s mind.
‘If I could take back—’
‘Did you do it, Dee?’ Stacey asked before she could stop the words coming out of her mouth.
Devon froze. The hurt was written all over her face.
‘You really think I could do something like that?’ she asked, snatching her hand away.
‘Right now, I don’t know what I think.’
‘Okay,’ Devon said, pushing her chair away from the table. ‘I’m gonna go and have a shower and try to forget you ever asked me that question.’
‘Dee, listen…’
It was too late. Devon had already left the room.
Stacey swiped the wine glass from the table onto the floor and just stared at the mess of broken glass and liquid.
Ironically, even in death, Terence Birch was still managing to ruin her life.
SIXTY
‘Okay, boy, so how are we going to do this?’ Kim asked as Barney took a good drink of water.
Since coming home, she’d fed him and spent half an hour throwing his favourite tennis ball around the garden. The May sun was setting, bringing a chill that bothered Barney a lot less than her, but he’d now be satisfied until their late walk around midnight.
‘Really?’ she asked him as he left a trail of drool from the bowl to the rug.
He swished his tail in response. She realised he probably wasn’t going to be too helpful with her current predicament as she wiped up his slobber and threw the kitchen roll in the bin.
She washed her hands and poured a coffee while still mulling over the question that had formed in her mind since learning of the release of Ian Perkins.
How did you make contact with someone who didn’t want to be found? And she wasn’t talking about the child murderer who’d changed his name when leaving prison. She was talking about the woman who probably knew where he was.
She took a seat on the sofa, cradling and tapping her coffee mug.
How was it even possible that this woman had been in and out of her life twice now and she had no way to make contact?
She understood that Leanne King’s chosen profession dictated that her life was shrouded in secrecy, that she moved amongst the shadows protecting people Kim wasn’t sure deserved protecting. The secrecy around witness protection had always been necessary, but before meeting Leanne, Kim had never understood or appreciated the sacrifice or commitment given by the officers involved.
Not that any of that had made the woman any more likeable, as she’d found out when Leanne had become her personal protection officer when Symes was threatening her life.
Jesus, the woman had spent three nights under her roof. She’d spent under five minutes with some of the contacts listed in her phone. But Leanne had made sure Kim could never trouble her again. She knew virtually nothing about Leanne, yet the woman knew pretty much everything about her. Kim glanced at the toaster, a permanent reminder of Leanne in her home. It was while dismantling her old one that Kim had shared intimate details about her then dying mother. In return, Leanne had revealed that she was adopted, which had done nothing to solve the mystery of whether she’d been born naturally or manufactured on a production line.
Kim had considered asking Woody for a method of contact. He’d achieved it himself when he’d felt she’d needed a minder. Whatever strings he’d pulled were probably a one-time offer though, and she would be advised that the protection officer was not their inroad to everything related to witness protection.
Kim had little time for such sensibilities. Leanne most likely had access to information she needed. Being able to warn Ian Perkins might well save his life.
She growled as she put down her coffee cup. Everything in her home had been changed to accommodate the woman’s instructions. Every area of her private life had been invaded. Leanne had been aware of Kim’s every move thanks to a tracker device in her boot. Her home had been turned into a fortress with locks, cameras and a monitoring company. Much of which she’d done away with once the threat of Symes had been neutralised.
‘Hang on a minute,’ Kim said as Barney poised himself to join her on the sofa. He paused.
