“Anything else?”
“Leaves last. Walks home alone. Same route. Curtains always drawn. Doesn’t turn lights on in the front room. Looks… closed up. Not grieving. Not sad. Managed. Contained.”
Naomi’s tone changed.“You think he’s being leaned on?”
“Feels like pressure. External, not internal. Something’s sitting on him.”
“I’ll flag it. Request static obs on the property. Traffic cams on Ashworth Lane and school exit points. If Patel signs off, we’ll get eyes. You want internal CCTV pulled?”
“Love it. If you can keep your head above all the paperwork to get it.”
“We can but try?”
“Alright. Don’t drown. Humanities corridor. Rear exits.” Warren rubbed his forehead, exhaustion pressing behind his eyes. He needed to know if anyone had been watching Ellison from the perimeter. Where he went at lunch. Who he spoke to. Whether he was being handled from outside. Spying? Sure. But that was his job. “And see if anyone’s clocked Reid.”
“Copy.”
Warren hesitated, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel. Then, “Also… saw Ellison with Alfie Carter. Alone.”
Naomi didn’t interrupt. She never did when Warren’s tone dipped like that.
“Could be nothing. But I walked in on them Monday. Caught the tail end of something. Quiet. Low-voiced. Carter looked wired. When he left, Ellison said something that…” He exhaled. “It sounded like a warning.”
“A warning?”
Warren scrubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to say it. Hadn’t wanted to log it at all. But it had been stuck in his head since the second it happened. Since Jude had pulled away, turned down the quiz, gone cold. He wouldn’t be a very good UC if he didn’t log everything he was meant to just because he was…having mixed feelings about his target.
“Something about talking. ‘Remember what I said about talking.’”
Silence stretched for a second.
“I’ll log it,”Naomi said.“We’ll get some eyes on the kid. Maybe speak to local—”
“No,” Warren cut in. “He’s already on the radar. His dad’s fellas a copper, remember? We spook him, word gets back, and it could tighten whatever leash is locked on whoever. They’ll start suspecting we’re watching. Or worse.”
A pause. Then,“Stick to CCTV?”
“Stick to CCTV.” Warren stared at the dark school building. “If there’s something there, it’ll show up. And if there’s not… I still want to know.”
There was a pause. Then softer, she said,“You still good in there?”
“I’m warm and well-fed.”
“Warren…”
He exhaled. “I’m fine.”
“You seem more concerned than usual about this.”
Warren chewed on his lip. This was why working with the woman who used to know him inside out was both a blessing and a curse. He couldn’t hide anything from her. She’d seen him at play, and she’d seen him on the field. She knew his best and, unfortunately, knew his worst. She could detect a change in his breath.
“Just… watching it happen.” He aimed for detached but heard the edge in his own voice. The analyst in him wanted to frame it as observation. But it wasn’t. Not anymore. It was him admitting, without meaning to, that he cared. “It’s like…her all over again.”
It wasn’t exactly likeher. He knew that. But it was better than admitting what it was really like.
Another breath crackled down the line before Naomi spoke again.“Don’t go too far in with him. This is only secondary. A maybe. A potential lead. Don’t lose your head over it. And you know this is Patel testing you.”
Of course she was. And somehow, Patel’s choice of test had been the perfect snare. Jude Ellison—reserved, broken at the edges, a man Warren should have read as nothing more than a line in the file. But he was proving to be his undoing. Maybe Patel had sensed it before he had. Maybe she’d seen the weakness he hadn’t wanted to name.
