‘I’m not okay, I can’t get over the fact that she was still warm. There were minutes, if that in it. If I’d got there sooner, I could have saved her.’
Morgan felt worse than she already did. How many of them were going to blame themselves for their actions when all they ever did was try to help? She reached out and squeezed his bicep.‘You can’t think like that, it was an IR. You drove straight there when the call came in, didn’t you?’
She hoped to God that he had and hadn’t been avoiding answering it like he usually did.
He nodded fiercely. ‘Immediately, I wasn’t that far away and drove like an idiot to get there.’
She felt the breath she’d been holding gently exhale. ‘Well then, you’re not to blame. She bled out in minutes, Scotty. She was violently attacked. Even if you’d arrived at the scene when it had just happened, you would have struggled to save her. The blood was pumping out of the wound on her neck so fast it would have been over before you could do anything.’
He nodded. ‘I know, but at least I’d have done my best and tried to save her.’
‘I also think you’d feel even worse if you had tried and she’d still died; her injuries were too severe.’
He stared down at the desk. ‘Maybe, but she wouldn’t have died on her own and terrified.’ He lifted his head. ‘Did you see her eyes? I’m never going to get them out of my mind for the rest of my life; the minute I try to sleep I’m going to see her terrified expression.’
Morgan didn’t know what to say because in all likelihood it was true; she felt the same way, so did Ben. ‘I get that, I already do for so many of the victims I’ve dealt with, but some of them hit a lot harder especially when you know them.’ She thought about Bronte Potter’s body being hit so hard by a speeding car that she flew up into the air like a crumpled rag doll, and Lexie’s lifeless, propped-up body on the roof of a gazebo in a public park, posed for dramatic effect, and the horror she felt when she realised who it was she was staring at in the dark with her torch.
She snapped herself out of it. ‘You said you knew them all, Scotty. Do you know her other sister?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, she’s one of those influencers or has a YouTube channel.’
‘You mean Lydia?’
‘No, Lynsey. Well, she doesn’t call herself that on Instagram or whatever.’
‘Lydia’s sister is also an influencer?’ Morgan’s mind was spinning with this new information.
He was nodding. ‘Yeah, imagine having two of your kids selling their souls on social media to make money. Not that their parents are here to see it. I suppose some things are a blessing in disguise. They all fell out with each other after the funerals, lots of jealousy between them. Lynsey was an influencer and then Lydia began to post about her solo camping trips, and she became almost as popular. Last time I spoke to Lynsey she was fuming about her doing that and said she was being a spiteful bitch. Lynsey is very outspoken; we were all part of the same group at school and most of the lads were scared of her because she didn’t take any crap. I used to have a mad crush on her, never told her though.’
‘I need to speak to this sister, what’s her YouTube channel called?’
‘Crystal Yoga or something like that, hang on.’ He took out his phone and opened the app. Tapping her name into the search bar, she popped up. He passed Morgan his phone, and she scrolled through Lynsey’s pictures, each one sending a cool breeze directly down her spine. There were pictures of her and her little Fiat 500 with a tent next to it, in front of that was a yoga mat, sound bowls, pictures of her in different yoga poses. She checked the latest post, which was from just around eight weeks ago: a tanned, smiling woman with lilac space buns in a two-piece yoga outfit, setting up her tent in what looked like the middle of a forest. There had been nothing since then, noupdates, no pictures. Her throat felt as if it was closing it was so dry.
‘Can you message her or check if she’s online, Scotty?’
‘I’m not telling her about Lauren on a DM, Morgan. She deserves more than that, and anyway, Madds has sent an officer to her flat to pass the death message.’
‘I don’t want you to, just see if you can get hold of her for me. When did they go out? I didn’t know about that.’
‘When I told him about her, but there was nobody home, so she won’t know yet. He said her neighbours haven’t seen her for a while.’
Morgan realised they must have gone out whilst she was talking to Al in the canteen. She’d turned her radio down so she couldn’t hear the chatter going on at the crime scene.
He began to type a message, short and to the point, speaking aloud so that Morgan could hear what he was writing. ‘Hey, Lynsey, long time no see.’ He sent it then looked at Morgan. ‘She’s going to be devastated about Lauren. I know they weren’t speaking but I think it hits harder when you realise that you’re never going to see someone ever again, that rift can never be healed.’
Morgan felt the pounding of her pulse inside of her head. ‘Does she know about Lydia?’
He shrugged. ‘No idea.’
‘That last post was from a couple of days after we found Lydia’s body. She hasn’t posted since.’
‘Well, that explains it then. She’s probably grieving and doesn’t feel like sharing it with the rest of the world.’
That wasn’t what Morgan was thinking; she was worried that the reason nobody had heard from Lynsey Williams was because she might be dead. She was more than a little concerned for her welfare, the other alternative was that she could be the killer and that was why she had dropped off the radar. Morgan stood upand took a screenshot of the page on Scotty’s phone. ‘When she gets in touch, ring me. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night, I need to know when you hear from her, okay?’
‘All right, keep your boots on. I’ll let you know the minute she replies.’
‘Thanks, Scotty.’
