Frankie logged onto her computer and began entering the petty crimes she’d accumulated during the morning shift. Two shoplifters, both just girls really. They’d been cautioned previously, time and time again, almost ridiculously slapdash in their inability to steal clothes or cosmetics without drawing attention to themselves by giggling uncontrollably. She’d tried her best to talk the store out of pressing charges, but it was one time too many. Frankie paused, taking the opportunity to look at the welcome spring morning sunshine through the station window. She couldn’t really blame the store, they were struggling to make ends meet as it was. Chances were it would never get to court anyway, too much pressure on the Procurator Fiscal’s Office to bother with two silly young girls. The threat of being taken to court and getting their names in the local press would be enough for the parents to come down hard, so it would be a result whichever way she looked at it. The window beckoned again, sunshine streaming in. Perhaps a tour of local farms, checking up on any rustling or fly-tipping activity – that would seem a sensible use of her resources for the afternoon. Thank God for a small-town police station, she thought to herself, nothing ever happens here. It was a sentiment shared by the entire staff, although they’d only ever be caught complaining about the lack of any proper policing work more becoming of their talents. The trick was to not complain too much, just in case they decided to transfer you somewhere busier – like Inverness.

Her attention was drawn back to the front desk as a distressed woman’s voice increased in volume. The duty sergeant stood slowly, flapping both hands palm downwards in an effort to calm the woman. The unnatural deliberation of the manoeuvre served only to agitate the woman to greater volume, the pitch of her voice sliding upwards towards hysteria. Frankie spun her seat around to see what the fuss was about and recognised Margo McDonald immediately.

“Bloody hell, what now?” She spoke the words under her breath, although the noise at the front desk was sufficient to drown out anything she said. Margo was what represented ‘trouble’ around here, and her uninvited appearance at the police station front desk was worthy of investigation. She joined the desk sergeant, his grateful glance offering fulsome thanks for the welcome interruption.

“Margo, just take a breath. What’s the matter?” The distraught face on the other side of the reception desk was covered in sweat, with mascara forming panda rings under her eyes – at least it looked like mascara.

Frankie took an executive decision. “Margo, come through here. You look like you need a seat.” She keyed the door release and led the way into the back office, Margo following her like an obedient child with a hand held tight onto an overnight bag, swollen to capacity. “Hamish, could you get us both a cuppa?”

The desk sergeant happily relinquished responsibility and moved with ponderous intent to the station kitchen to leave the two women alone. The DI peered up from his screen, but Frankie shook her head. Whatever this was, it was easier with just the two of them.