Chapter Seven

When Imogen got into work, Adrian was already sitting at the desk, reading the questions she had left the night before when he had taken Caitlin home. She could tell that he knew she was there; he was staring extra hard at the paper, as though he were afraid to look up. Was he feeling guilty about something? Had something happened? She had no right to judge him if it had, except maybe for the age difference, but, morally speaking, Imogen didn’t have a leg to stand on after her relationship with Dean. She hated not having the moral high ground.

‘Well? You disappeared pretty sharpish last night, so I wrote out some stuff for us to look at today.’

‘Sorry, I’ll get started on this list of things you want checking out. If you want me to?’

‘I already sent the list to Gary. If there is anything to find, he will find it. What happened last night?’ she said, noticing the scrapes across his knuckles.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said, keeping his head down.

‘Look at me, please.’

Adrian sighed and looked up. He had a bruised eye and a scratch across his face. His neck was bruised. He’d been fighting.

‘I got mugged last night; I was walking back from the pub and I got jumped by someone. I think it was one person, I’m not sure.’

‘Who did you go to the pub with?’ Imogen knew that he sometimes got into pub fights; he didn’t exactly broadcast it, but he didn’t usually lie about it. Maybe he was embarrassed because he had sought comfort there instead of with her. Maybe he didn’t go to see Imogen because of something else.

‘I went alone. I just wanted a drink.’

‘Right. You sure you’re OK?’ She had to admit to feeling a little jealous of the way he had so blatantly tried to avoid looking at Caitlin Watts yesterday. She could almost see him willing himself not to be attracted to her. Maybe it was even making Imogen a little insecure about what was happening between them. They were in a strange and untenable limbo, not friends but not lovers. At some point they would need to decide one way or the other. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she didn’t want it to end; she didn’t want to go back, but at the same time she didn’t want to go forwards. She had managed to get out of one complicated relationship and straight into an even more confusing one. Not to mention the fact that it was completely and utterly against the rules for them to see each other.

‘Fine, Grey. Let’s just do some work.’

‘You don’t want to file a report on the mugging?’ Imogen said, wondering why Adrian was struggling to keep eye contact with her. What wasn’t he telling her?

‘Maybe later. What are we doing now?’

‘Well, we need to go and speak to Owen Sager’s parents. They live local-ish. See if they know why he killed himself. I already told DI Walsh we would head straight there this morning.’