Rosie opened her mouth and snapped it shut again, taking the card Harriet held out. “Uh, okay, Doc. Yep, will do.”

Jem didn’t blame her for acquiescing. Harriet had an enviable knack of getting her own way. They hadn’t seen each other for a while, but the circumstances and the adverse conditions hadn’t diminished her take-no-prisoners countenance.

“Excellent,” Harriet said. “Detective Sergeant Merritt said you’re clear to go to Clayton, and you’re to let her know when you’ve finished with everything there. Jem, I’ve spoken to your resource manager and told him you’re indisposed for the rest of the shift. He’s arranging for someone to collect the RRV.”

“Thank you,” Jem said, wondering how improper it would be to kiss her. Quite, she decided, and squeezed her hand instead.

“You’re welcome.” Harriet pocketed the probe. “Go on, get going.”

Rosie waited until Harriet was well out of earshot before she spoke. “Bleedin’ hell. There’s no way I’m pissing her off. It’s a hot shower and sustenance for you, young lady.”

Jem gathered up the foil blanket. “No arguments from me. That sounds lovely.”

They stood together, Jem wavering slightly as a head rush hit her. She had no idea how long was left on her shift. The hours she’d spent with Dorothy in the residential home seemed like several lifetimes ago.

Rosie flicked on her torch. “Ready?”

“Yep.” Turning to leave, Jem glimpsed the raised flap of the forensic tent, a shock of white against the surrounding blackness. Someone lowered it almost at once, concealing the tent’s contents, and Jem concentrated on picking her route over the irregular ground. She didn’t look back.

* * *

Ellery Lane had never seen so much activity. Police vehicles—marked and unmarked—and two Mountain Rescue four-by-fours were parked at haphazard intervals, their drivers having attempted to avoid the divots and waterlogged ruts. SOCO and uniformed officers were hurrying between the vehicles, toting equipment or chattering into their radios. Glad to be heading in the opposite direction, Rosie steered Jem through the melee, aiming for her own patrol car, as an officer on sentry duty noted their departure.

“I’ll ruin the seat,” Jem said, her hand poised to open the passenger door. They were the first words she’d spoken since leaving the scene, barring the odd murmur to acknowledge hazards that Rosie pointed out. Slogging through the woods in torrential rain and a strengthening wind hadn’t been conducive to a casual chat.

Rosie fished a large plastic sheet from her pocket. “Not to worry. SOCO gave me this for evidence preservation. Sadly, their generosity only stretched to one, so whoever drives this car next will be getting a wet arse.”