No, Penn wasn’t sure he did know.
‘And you waited two years to voice your concerns?’
‘Well, she’s on her own with him now, isn’t she? Her mum isn’t here to protect her,’ Lyra said. ‘He’s not even her real dad, so she shouldn’t even be with him anyway. Eva should be with blood relatives.’
‘Ava,’ Penn corrected.
‘She’s our niece,’ Warren said.
‘You drive?’ Penn asked, looking from one to the other.
They both shook their heads.
‘Ava still has medical appointments,’ Penn said.
‘We know how to call an Uber, mister,’ Lyra snapped.
‘And affording new prosthetics as she grows won’t be a problem?’ Penn asked, knowing full well he was acting outside his remit.
‘We’ll be able to afford it,’ Warren said. ‘What with all that extra money cos of her being a cripple.’
Penn stood abruptly, unable to bear their presence any longer. He thanked them for their time and left the house.
Once outside, he stopped the recording on his phone, content that the sexual abuse claim was nothing more than a ploy to get the child into their custody. He also felt he’d got enough to confirm they only wanted Ava for financial gain.
Only problem was, the way they’d scrubbed up, there was a very real chance social services were gonna fall for it.
Fifty-Six
‘I think this is it,’ Bryant said, pulling up in front of an end terrace in Old Hill.
Once Lena Hubbard had been safely secured in the police car, Kim’s thoughts had quickly returned to their two victims. Stacey had turned up no link between Gemma Ross and Nadine Cowley yet, so for now Joe Butler remained their prime suspect in the murders of both Ashley Reynolds and Nadine Cowley.
No conversations with the man had been easy, and she wanted to be as well prepared as possible before questioning him. There was something that had been bugging her since she’d met the Butlers. The man had a charge for domestic violence, he appeared to have a quick temper, he couldn’t remain faithful, and yet Ashley Reynolds had still felt he was the better parent. The question was, why?
Before she went into the interview room, she wanted as much ammunition as she could carry, and there was only one place she could get it.
The door was answered by a woman in grey leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. Her brown hair was short and untidy. She wore no jewellery except a plastic-strapped watch.
‘Abby Butler?’ Kim asked, holding up her identification.
She nodded as fear contorted her features. ‘The boys are fine. You can come in and?—’
‘We’re not here for the boys,’ Kim reassured her, and from what she could hear in the background, she was correct. A squeal and then laughter sounded from within.
‘They’ve just finished their homework,’ Abby said, as though she had to explain every parenting decision to someone.
‘We’re not the homework police,’ Kim said in an attempt to put her at ease. ‘It really has nothing to do with the boys.’
Abby visibly relaxed and stepped aside for them to enter. She closed the door and headed to the kitchen ahead of them.
‘Okay, boys, upstairs to change,’ she said to the twins. ‘I’ll get your tea going in just a bit.’
‘Beans on toast,’ one chanted after giving her and Bryant the onceover.
‘Spaghetti on toast,’ the other one said, ignoring them completely.
Abby folded her arms. ‘Off you go upstairs, have a meeting and decide which one.’
