Her mind flashed back to Francesca’s body lying in the bathtub, her hair splayed out and her bleeding toes, then she shivered. There was no putting it off.
She tried Hannah one more time but her phone was switched off. Hannah had to be with Samuel Avery, regardless of her daughter’s reservations when she spoke to her the other night. Her stomach fluttered as she pushed the image of the two of them out of her mind. What was Avery playing at?
Chapter Fifty-One
He hurried through the door and scurried down to the cellar to see his victim. He’d been gone a while but his absence had been unavoidable.
The light flickered on. There she was, waiting for him. Exactly where he’d left her with her hands bound behind her back only a couple of hours earlier. She’d drifted off to sleep, her head leaning against a dusty shelf.
He hadn’t meant to be gone so long. Her low-cut top exposed his fingermarks on her neck and he grinned. The damsel-in-distress look suited her so well, better than he’d ever have thought. He only wished she was enough for him but she had merely been the catalyst for what he’d done wrong – not that he regretted it. His fingers twitched, but not for her. His body craved a release, and she couldn’t help. His mind craved a new memory, one that could be replayed for an eternity, but it wasn’t craving memories of her.
‘Let me go,’ she whimpered.
She looked so insincere he almost wanted to burst into laughter. ‘You’re awake.’ He pulled a bottle of water from his bag and held it to her berry-coloured lips. She guzzled down half the contents before spluttering a mouthful into her lap. He bent down to stare into her eyes but she turned away. ‘You hungry?’
She shook her head.
He kissed her gently on the forehead taking in the damp smell that had seeped through her clothes and hair. ‘You’re cold.’ He grabbed a fleecy blanket and pulled it over her shoulders. She still wouldn’t look at him even though he was doing everything possible to make her comfortable. This was a game he hadn’t played before. He didn’t know what his next move would be. All he could do was improvise.
He dragged a chair from under the stairs and slumped into it. It had been a long tense day, which was evident by the smell seeping from his pits. ‘Look at me.’ She looked down. He grabbed her hair and turned her face to his before locking his lips over hers. ‘There, that’s better.’ Was it better? It didn’t feel right at all. He didn’t know why he was bothering. It wasn’t working. This was all too weird.
She wasn’t enough – this woman in front of him. There was another on the horizon and he knew just where to find her. He pulled the phone from his pocket and reread the stored messages.
‘Okay, if you won’t be nice, I guess I’ll have to leave you here a bit longer.’ As he stood to leave, he slipped his hand behind a bottle of wine and checked to see if Holly’s tablet and phone were still there. They were. She glanced across at the pink tablet then looked away again. The woman in front of him had read everything on that phone and tablet already.
Once again, she leaned her head on the shelving and closed her eyes. He hurried back up the creaky steps and locked the door behind him. He had some business to attend to, some paperwork to straighten, then he’d be leaving for good. All the plans had been made and starting again would be fun, a whole new world of opportunities was about to open up. However, one opportunity lay on his doorstep and the urge to take it made him feel like an addict chasing a fix. He knew exactly who was next in line.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Wyre stood in front of the boards while she added to the notes under the photos of Francesca, and O’Connor leaned back in his seat at the other end of the room. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a squashed pasty. Gina felt the saliva building up in her mouth. She’d barely eaten over the course of the day and he was making her hungry.
‘Are you okay going through the post-mortem with us?’
‘Yes, guv,’ Wyre replied. ‘Thankfully everything went without a hitch. O’Connor didn’t heave once – result. It was pretty much as described at the scene. We can confirm that Francesca Carter definitely drowned in her own bathwater. A huge clump of her hair was missing from her head and that too was found at the scene. There was evidence of several knocks to the back of her head, consistent with being dunked repeatedly. I’m afraid there wasn’t much more to report. No evidence of previous abuse. No evidence of strangulation like we found on Holly Long’s neck. She was slightly underweight for a twenty-five-year-old.’ Wyre did the zip up on her black jacket and shivered a little.
‘Anything flag up in the post-mortems to link Francesca Carter to Holly Long? They were both asphyxiated, one in water and one with a pillow, but was there anything else?’
Wyre flicked through her notes and scanned a few pages. ‘No.’
‘Okay, what are we missing? Holly was pregnant.’
‘Francesca definitely wasn’t,’ Wyre interrupted.
‘Any sign of a flower or petals on her body?’
‘No, guv.’
Gina’s mind whirred. ‘I have a theory. Francesca wasn’t pregnant. Carnations are Mother’s day flowers. The petals had been sprinkled across Holly’s stomach, the murderer trying to tell us that Holly was a mother. The flower head in Holly’s throat, was that to gag her, to stop her from talking about her pregnancy? And now I’m bouncing back to there being two suspects.’ Gina stared at the wall as she let the cases flood her mind. ‘How about the scene? Anything else to report?’
Wyre shook her head. ‘They are still processing evidence. As we know, the main exhibit is the footprint.’
‘Problem is, the two we’ve had in today are both a size nine and as it’s a popular size, I’m guessing we’ll get more size nine suspects. We still have Edward Powell to consider. Have we located the owner of the Red Setter yet?’
O’Connor swallowed a lump of pasty and swigged his drink. ‘It’s not for the want of trying. We’ve watched that footage several times and not one person gets out of a car with a Red Setter. They’re big dogs too. I wouldn’t have missed it.’
Gina flinched as the voice came from behind.
‘I’ve included an appeal for this particular dog walker or anyone who may have seen them in the press release that has just gone out. Expect to be bombarded with calls, it’s already hit the locals and social media.’ Briggs leaned against the doorframe as he placed his hands in his trouser pockets.
