She dug her fingers into her palms, her nails biting into the soft skin as she closed her eyes and tried to keep calm, when all she wanted to do was run out to the car and drive back to Ashford and confront Demiri.
She swallowed, then opened her eyes.
Both Sharp and Harrison wore distraught expressions, and she knew they would feel as sick as she.
‘We need to get a search warrant for that building immediately,’ said Sharp to Harrison.
‘I’ll sort it out. Can you provide additional officers?’
‘Absolutely. I’ll get onto our crime scene investigators and arrange for them to meet us there.’
‘It’ll take a while to get the paperwork done.’ Harrison checked his watch. ‘It’s too late to do anything tonight. Suggest a seven o’clock briefing tomorrow morning?’
Sharp nodded. ‘We’ll make some phone calls and make sure everyone’s on time.’ He turned to Jenkins. ‘Thank you.’
As Kay turned away from the bed, Gareth’s hand shot out and his fingers wrapped around her wrist.
‘You listen to me,’ he said, his voice fierce. ‘You get him, and you make him pay for it. All of it, do you understand?’
Kay held his gaze.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I understand.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kay slid the empty plate across the desk, dusted crumbs from her lap and took a sip of wine before scooting her chair closer to her computer screen.
She’d worry about fixing a proper dinner later; cheese and biscuits were all she needed to sustain her while she worked through the notes she’d collated over the past eighteen months about Jozef Demiri.
When she’d first arrived home, she’d put on a sweatshirt and leggings and taken off at a brisk run past the pub and then across a mini roundabout that intersected the modern housing estate that had sprung up twenty years ago either side of the lane. Picking up her pace, she’d worked her legs hard, burning off the anger and frustration about Harrison taking over the case until she circled back and reached her front door forty minutes later, her breathing ragged and her thoughts clear.
She had to push back any grudges until they’d caught Demiri. She had another chance to make the Albanian pay for what he’d done to her, let alone what he’d done to the poor women he’d smuggled in from the Continent, and she wouldn’t rest until he was sentenced.
Now, she leaned forward and turned down the rock music that had been blasting out of the speakers so she could concentrate and rested her chin in one hand, the other using the mouse to click and scroll through the files.
The house seemed quiet without Adam.
When she’d got home from her run and before stepping into the shower, she’d locked all the doors, checked the garage door was secure and the door from the garage to the kitchen had been fastened shut, and then pressed all the buttons on the panel next to the front door to set the security lights.
Normally, when he was home, she’d be able to hear the television downstairs where he’d be watching a documentary or a football game. She’d be able to breathe in the aromas from his cooking, and wait for him to shout up the stairs that her dinner was getting cold.
She smiled. Adam was the better cook out of the pair of them and was happy to be left alone in the kitchen most nights – if she tried to help, he grumbled that she cut the vegetables the wrong way, or simply hid his eyes while she wielded the knife, unable to watch as she sliced with much gusto but very little finesse – or regard for her own safety.
A sound reached her ears and she straightened in her seat, her head cocked to one side.
There it was again.
A knock at the door.
She switched off the music, checked her watch and frowned.
Pushing her chair back from the desk, she made her way out to the landing. Ahead of her, the bright security lights shone through the curtains that covered the front windows.
She paused, raising her gaze to the ceiling.
A few months ago, she’d discovered a set of miniature cameras and microphones in the roof of her house that had been set up to spy on her through the spotlights in the ceiling. A quiet word with Sharp about her conviction that Demiri, or someone associated with him was responsible for their installation, led to the equipment being removed – carefully, and in such a way that the perpetrators would simply believe the cameras had failed due to a power outage.
Now she wondered whether her enemies had been watching her home more closely, and in person.
She swallowed, and then uttered a low cry at another loud knock on the door.
Staying close to the wall, she edged her way down the stairs, her heart racing.
She had nothing to use as a weapon, but her fingers found her mobile phone tucked into the back pocket of her jeans and she extracted it, her thumb hovering over the emergency button as she reached the foot of the stairs.
Kay cursed the frosted glass at the top of the door that prevented her from seeing who was standing on the doorstep. She thought she heard murmured voices, and then took hold of the handle and wrenched open the door at the same time as taking a step backwards.
‘Food!’
Kay exhaled and dropped her hand from the door.
On the doorstep, Ian Barnes held four large pizza boxes in his arms. Behind him, Gavin and Carys stood, grinning from ear to ear.
Barnes lowered the boxes. ‘You forgot it was your turn, didn’t you?’
‘My turn?’
‘She forgot,’ said Carys, and laughed. ‘Told you she had.’
‘Hurry up and let us in. It’s cold out here.’
Kay stood back as her three colleagues tumbled over the threshold, laughing as they unwrapped scarves and threw their jackets over the newel post of the staircase before threading their way towards the kitchen.
She shook her head, smiled at her own paranoia, and closed the
