She made a mental note to ask Wyre to tell Mary what they were doing. The family would need to know as the press would soon be onto them once the search was underway.
‘I totally agree. Susan has been missing for days with no word. Her daughter has now gone. Do you fancy a drink after you’ve made the call? Last orders won’t be called for a good,’ he paused, ‘hour.’
She glanced at her watch. Her bedroom felt unlived in and uncared for. With her ever-increasing pile of laundry and uninviting bed where the fitted sheet had slipped off, it didn’t at all feel homely. ‘Pick me up, I’ve had a beer.’
‘It’s a date.’
‘It’s not a date. It’s a work meeting with a favourite colleague. We can organise the search.’ She wasn’t sure if she meant what she’d just said because the way her lonely heart was flipping, she’d willingly go for a walk down a dark alley with Jack the Ripper at this moment in time.
As she slipped on her jeans, she kept thinking of the woman in the phone box, scared and alone and now nowhere to be seen. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she thought of Phoebe – it didn’t feel real. One thing for sure was that she’d be searching all avenues for their scared woman. They had to get to her before the killer did.
Then there was Briggs. It was not a date; they had too much work to discuss anyway. This little evening rendezvous was a meeting. Nothing more.
Fifty-Two
Briggs placed the beer on the table and she grabbed the bottle, taking a swig. ‘I need to find the girl. Hell, I need to find Susan. Why isn’t it all coming together?’
‘We have the dog search tomorrow. It’s all arranged now.’
‘I know, but I don’t want the search to bring anything up. The last thing I want is another body. I don’t want Susan or poor Phoebe lying on a slab.’ Gina ran her fingers through her tangled hair, the stickiness of the beer mingling with the hairspray she put on just before Briggs arrived. ‘What are your thoughts on Ryan Wheeler? You’ve read the case notes so far.’
He nodded as he took a sip of his cola. His large hands circled the rim of the dewy glass as he allowed himself to become lost in thought. ‘I wouldn’t trust him. He’s had opportunity, motive and he’s certainly aggressive enough from what you say. He’s also attacked Dale Blair in the past. But, we don’t have enough to pull him in on.’
‘Agreed. But then we have Phoebe. What happened to her? She went out while he was being interviewed by us.’
‘But how long was she out for before she also went missing? He was only with us for about an hour then, from what you told me, he rushed off. Did he pick up his daughter on the way home? Why would he be doing all this? We are working on the fact that there are two people involved in Dale’s murder. We are also working on the theory that both Dale’s murder and Susan’s disappearance are linked. The photo of the three children suggest something links them both to an incident in the past. What started all this off? That’s the hardest piece of the puzzle to crack. Identify the catalyst, then the motive unfolds along with any suspects.’ He placed his hand around his neck and rubbed it. ‘How are you?’
Gina rolled her eyes. ‘You know me.’
He nodded and smiled as he picked at a beer mat. A bell rang, calling last orders. ‘You want another?’
‘Yes, please.’ She enjoyed feeling the alcohol coursing through her veins and she was enjoying the heat that was flushing through her body.
As Briggs hurried to the bar to buy another drink, she watched him reach into his trouser pocket and pull his wallet out. He glanced back as he loosened his tie and undid his top button. He rubbed his stubble as he waited for the barman to ring up the transaction before heading back to the table. ‘Another beer, it is. You don’t normally drink beer.’
‘I don’t normally go to the pub.’ She giggled.
‘What?’
‘You and me in the pub.’ Her giggle turned into a frown as she tried to suppress what was really on her mind.
‘I won’t ask if you’re okay.’
She paused for a moment while staring at the bar. A group of men left and the place quietened down a little. ‘My mother used to drink beer out of the bottle like this, not all the time but she enjoyed it.’ She looked away as she swallowed her emotions back.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I’m having happy thoughts for a change. It’s nice to not think about the bad things.’
He leaned in a little closer and placed his hand over hers, cocking his head in a sympathetic way as he waited for her to continue. He knew a little about her abusive past.
‘I wish I’d have been there for her when she was dying and I wasn’t. You can hate me now.’
‘I’m sure you had your reasons.’
She gulped the rest of the beer down in one.
‘Steady on, you’re not going to feel good in the morning.’
