Maggie considered Jack’s options. Then she locked the bathroom door and started to undress. ‘All this James Bond stuff is exciting. People will look at you, Jack. Women. And they’ll wish you were theirs.’ Jack stepped out of the bath and, as he lowered his hands to remove his white boxers, Maggie took over and did it for him with a seductive smile on her face.

Making love on the bathroom floor felt like a decadence that they’d neglected for months. They took their time, as though they were the only two people in the world. In truth, they weren’t even the only two people in the house, but that didn’t matter. As Penny and Hannah napped downstairs, Jack and Maggie silently enjoyed each other, for as long as time would allow. Afterwards, Maggie lay on Jack’s chest and, as she listened to his heart slowly come back to its normal rhythm, she purred the words ‘I love you’.

It was another ten minutes before they heard Hannah’s hungry cry from the lounge directly beneath them, and the real world insisted that they return.

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

DI Lee sat at the desk that used to be Jack’s and stared out of the window. The picturesque view did not lighten his mood.

The rest of the room was a hive of activity as they hunted down the gang’s bolt-hole. No B&B, no hotel, no caravan park, no camping or glamping site had ever booked them in. No lorry parks had registered any unexpected overnighters. No private landowners reported any unwelcome travellers. The best suggestion was from Bevan, who speculated that they probably bedded down in the trailers they hired, an idea that irritated Oaks, as he recalled the stench of bleach that had come from Goodwin’s trailer. If Bevan was right, then he’d missed a trailer full of evidence by one hour! Then Oaks unfortunately murmured a thought out loud: ‘We’re just not thinking like them. Jack would be able to get inside their heads.’

Lee bounced to his feet, sending his swivel chair sliding into Oaks’s desk and spilling his tea. ‘If you think DS Jack Warr sees us as anything more than his country bitches, you’re wrong.’ Lee stormed out of the squad room.

Oaks mopped at his spilt tea with a tissue. ‘DS Warr knows his stuff,’ Oaks mumbled, not caring who heard. Mason looked at him thoughtfully. He didn’t disagree. Outside the window, Lee was pacing the car park, with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Mason knew he hadn’t smoked in seven years and didn’t own a lighter, but the feel of a cigarette between his lips calmed him in times of extreme stress. Lee felt out of control of his own investigation and he hated it. Mason knew that, and that it wasn’t something he’d tolerate for long.

*