That triggered alarm bells. “This is potentially incriminating evidence, and you can’t splash it all over your news bulletins–”
“I’m not some kid fresh out of university like Rosie. I know how it works.”
“It’d be remiss of me not to check.” Nell inclined her head. “The last thing we need is trial by media, especially social media. It can be a massive thorn in our sides in cases like these.”
“Cases like these being what, specifically?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” No way was Nell going to veer from the script.
Mattie huffed. “Don’t look at me so suspiciously. You can trust me, you know? I told you about knowing Lexi’s name not to show off but to prove that I can be discreet. I’m not a gossip columnist. I’m an established and respected journalist. I’ve kept more secrets and confidences than you could imagine. You don’t have to treat me like one of those thorns in your side.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been burned by a journalist before, haven’t you? What did they do? Include off-the-record information in their story? Reveal you as their source?”
She was so scarily close to the truth that Nell only just managed to hold in the gasp rising in her throat, but she wouldn’t be cowed. “We’re not going to swap notes, if that’s what you’re after. There’s certain information that I cannot share, because it might have a detrimental effect on the investigation. Nor is it good practice to socialise with witnesses.”
“Yet here we are. I think you’ll find the waters are already muddied, Chief Inspector.” Mattie’s lips twitched, and she arched her eyebrows.
Nell recognised it as an obvious attempt to lighten the tension, but she’d had enough. Seeing both sides of Mattie juxtaposed like this was too much for her tired but wired brain to process. Before she could retort, the kitchen door swung open, and Graham walked in, followed by Rosie. She wore a red vest and cycling shorts that showed off a lot of tanned thigh. She recalled Angie saying something about a puncture and Graham going to Rosie’s rescue.
Rosie directed a full-wattage grin at Mattie. “Mum said we’d find you here.”
“Thanks for saving us from plumbing hell, Mattie.” Graham scratched his salt and pepper beard. “You’re not getting much of a relaxing holiday, are you? Dreadful business, that fire in Paignton. I saw your report on TV.”
Rosie coughed over-dramatically. “And read the front-page splash written by your daughter?”
“Of course I did, sweetie.” He ruffled Rosie’s hair like she was a toddler, and she pushed him away playfully.
“It helped that I got to interview you as an eyewitness, Mattie.” Rosie beamed at her. “My editor was very pleased.”
“And I was very pleased that you managed to quote me verbatim,” said Mattie.
Rosie widened her eyes. “You read my story?”
“Of course.”
Nell exchanged a knowing look with Graham at Rosie’s doe-eyed gaze. Talk about hero-worship. Rosie never had been any good at keeping a poker face. It was part of her girlish charm, even if she was twenty-three now and not the exuberant nine-year-old Nell had regularly babysat.
Graham went upstairs to investigate the plumbing crisis, but Rosie loitered in the kitchen, making it impossible for Nell to continue the conversation with Mattie. Considering that Mattie was an expert at talking anyone into a corner, that wasn’t a bad thing.
Rosie grinned. “There’s a group of us going to an LGBTQ night at a cocktail bar tomorrow. Would you like to come, Mattie? Everyone would love to meet you.” She smiled coyly. “You’d make me super popular too.”
Mattie laughed. “I’m sure you don’t need my help to get noticed.”
Rosie leaned on the kitchen island in a pose that showed off her athletic body. “So, are you up for it?”
Nell gripped the handle of her mug so tightly, her fingers almost cramped. Since when had Rosie become such an outrageous flirt? Nell pushed her stool back, and the metal legs scraped against the floor. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need toget back to the station.” She gave Mattie a pointed look. “I’d appreciate your discretion.”
Mattie nodded. “Could you at least keep me in the loop?”
“Operational demands always take priority. I won’t promise anything.” She stalked out of the kitchen in full chief-inspector-in-charge mode. Her uniform gave her the mental strength to at least give an impression she was in control, but once in the car, the professional front she’d put up gave way, and she slumped in the seat. Bloody hell. She was jealous of Rosie, of all people. Why? Because she’d made a play for Mattie. What did that say about Nell? Somehow, Mattie’s vulnerability in the wake of her faint had caused a breach in the wall Nell surrounded herself with. That mustn’t happen again. Work came first, and she needed her life to be calm and without complications.
Except Mattie was a complication she couldn’t stop thinking about.Try harder. Or face the consequences.
Chapter 9
Mattie leaned on the balcony railings at her room at Cove House wearing only her sleep shorts and a T-shirt. She glared at Nell’s garden, as if it was to blame for the irritated mood she’d woken up in. Nell had been in full-on cop mode last night, eyeing Mattie and everything she said with such distrust. Police were suspicious by nature and trained to manage the media. Journalists were viewed as a potential enemy, but it was a false assumption. They needed one another, and trust could be built. Why did Nell refuse to recognise her professional integrity? So many people in the business and political arenas took Mattie into their confidence and regularly spoke with her off the record. They trusted her, so why wouldn’t CI Nell Abraham of Devon and Cornwall Police? Admittedly, not all journalists were honourable; she’d met more than a few of those in her time. What had happened for Nell to be so distrusting? Nell could hardly claim the moral high ground; not all police were squeaky clean either, something Mattie had discovered while being part of a news team investigating corrupt cops.
Mattie huffed. Clearly, Nell had made up her mind that she couldn’t be trusted. This from the same woman who’d become flustered when their thighs had briefly brushed together. Thesame woman Mattie would happily brush against more. Much, much more, albeit in her imagination, because she wasn’t going to be revealing her naked body to anyone. Only the medics and Shona and Lisa had seen the injuries and subsequent scars on her back and shoulders, and that was purely through necessity. She hated looking at them in the mirror unless she had to, but they weren’t the reason why she’d turned Rosie’s invitation down. “What were you doing in July 2005?” she’d asked Rosie.
Rosie had tipped her head to one side. “Probably crawling over the carpet in my random toddler way.”
