‘Not for around ten years now. But you know, I’m privileged apparently, so I don’t really deserve their attention. They only have time for Third World children.’ She brushed her glossy black hair behind her ears. The hair was the same colour as her perfectly groomed eyebrows, which almost looked painted on, but they were natural, Imogen could tell. Caitlin was making Imogen self-conscious; she watched as the girl’s striking blue eyes bore into Adrian and no doubt pulled at his heart strings.

‘I’m sorry, that must be hard,’ Adrian said.

Imogen shot him a look; it wasn’t like him to make personal comments like that. There was something a little mesmerising about Caitlin. She couldn’t tell whether it was intentional and manipulative or just the way she was, but Imogen was almost certain it was the former. Imogen was the one with a record for falling for suspects; it was the reason she’d lost the opportunity to get the DI job, because the DCI had found out about her relationship with Dean, which although not entirely illegal was most definitely frowned upon. The truth was that Imogen was a little relieved about not getting the position; she wasn’t sure she could handle the extra responsibility as well as everything else she had going on, on top of losing her mum.

That fleeting thought of her mother sent a chill through her; she couldn’t call her, she couldn’t go and visit.

Imogen shook off the impromptu melancholy and stood up.

‘We’ll check out your story. If your grandfather is happy not to press charges, you’ll be able to leave,’ Imogen said.

‘The uniformed officer will take you to the cell for a little while; it won’t be long though,’ Adrian said gently, taking the edge off Imogen’s words.

‘Thank you, Detective Miles.’ Caitlin smiled and blinked slowly, her thick black lashes closing then opening to reveal those eyes, almost in slow motion. There was an aura of ‘trouble’ around her, something Imogen couldn’t quite put her finger on.

‘Interview suspended at three fifteen,’ Imogen said and turned off the recorder.

Caitlin Watts folded her arms and winced a little.

‘Is something the matter?’ Imogen said.

‘I cut my arm on the window while I was trying to get through it, no big deal.’

‘Let me see?’

The girl pulled her cardigan off her shoulder, locking eyes with Adrian while she did it. There was a gash in the top of her arm, about ten centimetres long, certainly not nothing.

Imogen held her breath and counted to three before speaking again.

‘You need some medical attention. I’ll get hold of the doctor on call to come and see you. I think that’s going to need stitches.’

Imogen opened the door to see PC Ben Jarvis standing there waiting for instruction. Ben was new to the district and already he had made no secret of his interest in Imogen.

‘I need you to take the suspect to holding, then get the duty doctor to check her out,’ Imogen informed him.