To the outside world, everything seemed to have fallen into Molly’s lap. She had been an exemplary police officer, and her cheerfulness had warmed her to all. But there was a force behind her smile that propelled her forward every day. The thought cast a shadow, and her excitement waned. Life had taught her to put her best foot forward, no matter how badly things were falling apart. But good fortune smiled upon her with a set of rotting teeth. Which was why she tried harder than her colleagues to squeeze the most out of every day. That was a trait she shared with DI Winter. It had been tempting to confide in her. There was a small chance she’d understand, given her own background. But her DI would never know. Molly’s heart faltered at the thought of them uncovering her secret. They would never treat her the same again.
People thought she’d had easy access into the police because her father was high in the ranks. The truth was, her parents had begged her not to join. They thought it was too dangerous because they knew her past and what she’d become. It had taken some convincing to make them see she was made for the role. Even now, she was terrified that her second chance of a normal life would be snatched away. She had found a home here, with a boss who bore mental and physical scars. Someone like her.
Winter had once told her, ‘You know what I like about you, Molly? If I put a little deadline under you, I can stand back and watch you run.’ It was true. Deadlines were important, because life was so very frail – it could be snatched away without a moment’s notice. She’d had personal dalliances with death and not just through her job.
She gazed at her DI, unable to hide the admiration in her eyes. Winter was not one to lavish praise. She would never know just how much her words had come to mean to her. Her colleagues laughed at her belief in spirituality, but fate had brought them together. She would follow her without question. They were kindred souls.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘What happened to the Skoda?’ Amy pulled down the sun visor in Paddy’s new car. She regretted her wardrobe choice of black shirt and trousers, which were now absorbing the morning sun.
‘I got shot of it.’ A smile rested on Paddy’s lips as he negotiated traffic. He seemed much happier behind the wheel of his Jaguar. ‘Nice, isn’t it? It’s like driving on air.’
Men and their toys, Amy thought, trying to look suitably impressed. She rode a bicycle to work most days, one with high handlebars and a basket on the front. ‘It’s lovely. I thought you were tightening your belt?’
‘It’s a lease car,’ said Paddy. ‘The payments aren’t too bad.’ He waved a hand over the dashboard. ‘It’s got all these gadgets . . . Talks to you too.’
‘Gadgets are only good if you know how to use them.’ Amy smiled. She was painfully aware of Paddy’s limitations when it came to technology.
Flexing his fingers on his steering wheel, he shot her a sideways glance. ‘I’ll learn.’
‘I can show you if you like,’ Molly said from the back seat. ‘Dad’s got the same car.’ Next to her, Gary Wilkes fiddled with a Spotify playlist on his phone. One earbud dangled from his ear, and the tinny sound of rap music buzzed like a trapped fly.
‘I’ll figure it out,’ Paddy replied, most likely saving himself the embarrassment of being unable to pick it up straight away.
Amy lowered the car window an inch, inhaling salty sea air. It felt strange to be travelling with her team outside the confines of her office. Just three days had passed since Carla’s death. She didn’t know what Donovan had said to get their transfer authorised so quickly, but already they were familiarising themselves with the seaside suicides that preceded Carla’s death.
‘I take it you’ve done your homework?’ Amy said, referring to the case.
‘Yep,’ Molly said, always keen to demonstrate her knowledge. ‘In three months, we’ve had two deaths in Brighton, one in Blackpool and now, one in Clacton-on-Sea if you count Carla Burke. They’re reported as suicides but we’re not ruling out murder.’
‘But it’s not straightforward,’ Gary joined in, plucking the earbud from his ear. ‘There’s no evidence to say the victims were murdered. There’s no similarities between them, and no motive for anyone to kill them. But suicide . . .’ He glanced at Amy. ‘Sometimes they follow in a pattern. People talk online. Plan it out. Some of them left suicide notes. I don’t think anyone would have looked at this if there hadn’t been a police officer involved.’
‘Well, it’s not as straightforward as our last case.’ Amy touched her neck as thoughts of the Love Heart Killer crept in. The physical scars may have healed but Samuel Black still lingered in her thoughts. He definitely had a type. But these victims varied in age, physical descriptions and social status. Apart from Carla, the only thing they had in common were the fact that they were all male and visitors to the area. Now the pressure was on Amy’s team to get to the bottom of it before further attempts were made. But Carla’s colleagues might not appreciate their presence. Emotions were bound to be running high.
On the car radio, the presenters of a local news channel
