June. Beautiful June. Their beloved friend for decades. The woman who’d taught the smallest of children until her retirement and who had been loved by every pupil she’d ever had. The woman who never forgot a birthday or an anniversary, who had a kind word for everybody she met and a no-nonsense approach to life. A woman who had kept her wit and humour even after she’d received a debilitating and devastating diagnosis.

Tom pictured her the last time they’d all been together, her hair tucked under in the neat little bob she always wore, the stylish cut silk blouse and the simple but elegant string of pearls.

And what had he said to her at Sean’s the other day?

I’ll see you soon. We miss you.

The inspector lifted his head from hands now wet with tears.

‘Sean, I’m so sorry,’ he tried to say, but his voice broke.

Instead, he sat there, with his arm around his old friend, shell-shocked and unable to offer any words of comfort.

Louise stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped against her chest. She looked down at the pair of them, two of the strongest men she’d ever known, their shoulders huddled in grief.

Her heart felt like it was breaking.

CHAPTER 39

The doctors were just trying to do their job.

Charlie Lane had sustained significant blood loss and was barely out of intensive care.

He couldn’t be put under the sort of pressure an interview would bring.

And the inspector really didn’t give a shit.

He didn’t want to be here at all. But what choice did he have? They’d no idea where Fiona Holland was. Unless she was already dead, she was locked up somewhere and now they were in a race against time to ensure she didn’t starve to death.

‘It’s like this,’ he snapped, and planted two hands on the hospital administrator’s desk. ‘We either interview Charlie Lane today, or I am going to have you charged as an accessory in a crime.’

‘What are you talking about?’

The man sitting across from Tom laughed nervously. He was used to dealing with members of the emergency services, including the guards, and knew they could get hysterical at times. Everything was always of the utmost importance and urgency, regardless of how ill a patient was. And normally, he, the man in charge of that access, could handle these hyperactive officers. But the man who stood in front of him now looked nearly psychotic. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, his cheeks purple beneath the salt-and-pepper beard, veins throbbing at the side of his forehead. He’d heard of Tom Reynolds, but usually in the most respectful of terms. If people only knew!