warehouse converted into apartments.
‘We’re here,’ she said, switching off the engine.
Flynn looked at her, trying to ignore the pain in his head.
Then there was no problem ignoring it as with passionate groans from each of them, they plunged into each other’s arms, kissing madly, lips mashing, until their foreheads clashed and Flynn jerked away.
‘Sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I’ll have to be gentle with you.’
‘I’m sure you will be… that said, I hope you don’t think I’m being forward, but I could really do with a shower… I need to get out of this.’ He pulled distastefully at the paper suit. ‘Been a bit of a night.’
Her eyes ran down him, looking at the baggy zoot suit. ‘I think I might be able to help you there.’
In turn, Flynn eyed her green overalls under a very unflattering anorak, obviously slung on at the end of her shift. ‘Ditto,’ he said, feeling a surge of energy.
‘Sorry I said that. You know, about you and me splitting. It’s the last thing I want… I felt it just wasn’t fair.’
‘I know, Henry. You’re a good man.’
Henry’s lips warped at that. He hadn’t been good to Kate and it constantly seared into his heart. He had allowed a combination of work and his inability to say no where women were concerned to blind him. Yet through it all — ‘all’ including a divorce and a remarriage — Kate had stayed with him. It was only in the past couple of years that he had tried to make serious amends, only to have her taken away from him.
In his heart he knew he had ultimately done his best for Kate, but he still felt cheated by her death… the ‘unfinished business’ syndrome.
Then he’d met Alison and started a serious relationship he did not want to jeopardize, not through work and definitely not through other women.
They were sitting in Alison’s car on a street near the police station, having been kissing and holding each other.
‘Gosh, snogging in a car,’ she said. ‘Feel like a teenager.’
‘Mm,’ Henry said. ‘That’s something else to consider. Age difference.’
Alison punched him gently on the shoulder. ‘I’ll just have to push you in a wheelchair, won’t I? Off a cliff if necessary.’
‘I’m going to retire,’ he said suddenly.
She frowned. ‘Where did that come from?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve got the time in. Been sort of considering it for a bit and I’d like to be with you all the time.’
Their eyes locked. But then she pulled a face. ‘All the time? Would that be a good idea?’ she teased.
‘Hey, I’m house-trained. Quite fancy living in a pub with a busty barmaid… I’m sure I could pull a pint.’
‘What about your house… your girls?’
‘Sell it… sell them.’
Alison shook her head. ‘This needs a long discussion, sweetie, not a rash decision.
‘I know.’ He sat back and exhaled shakily. ‘Shit, I was scared.’
‘I’ll bet you were… what’s it all about, Henry?’
He shook his head. ‘Not the foggiest and for a few hours I’m not going to think about it.’ He shook his head, but knew intuitively that everything he had been investigating for the last couple of days was interconnected, things had happened so fast that it had been impossible for him to take stock properly, even though he’d tried, and work it all out with a proper plan of investigation. His plan for the time being, though, was to get some sleep, then look at everything with the help of a team of people he trusted — unless, of course, he was taken off the investigation because of the two incidents he was directly involved with. Those being what had happened at Joe Speakman’s house and on the road to Kendleton.
Alison started the engine, Henry settled back into the passenger seat and closed his eyes, only to open them suddenly when there was a tap on the window.
It was DI Barlow, who had been in charge of proceedings throughout the night.
‘Quick word before you disappear?’ he said through the glass and gestured with his fingers.
‘Won’t be a moment,’ Henry said to Alison and climbed creakily out of the car.
‘I’ve asked an ARV to spend some time in Kendleton,’ Barlow said. ‘Just in case, just to float around… you never know.’
‘Thanks, Ralph.’
‘But… a word to the wise, Henry. I’m thinking caution.’
‘In what way?’
‘Erm…’ Barlow looked around furtively and drew Henry aside so he could speak into his ear. ‘There’s obviously something happening around here that’s a bit nooky and dangerous.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Barlow looked directly into Henry’s eyes. ‘Entirely off the record, Henry… I think you need to back off. It would be terrible if something did happen to you, you know?’ Barlow’s eyes went to Alison in the car, the returned to Henry.
‘No.’ Henry’s mouth was suddenly dry. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Look,’ Barlow said, searching for the right words as though it was a painful process. ‘It’s not much more than a feeling, but it might be best, say, if you handed this whole investigation to me… let me run with it. I’m sure I can solve it to everyone’s satisfaction.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Look,’ Barlow said for the second time, his voice hardening, ‘I’m doing you a favour here, Henry. This is a box of vipers and it needs a lid keeping on it. Just hand it over to me and I’ll make certain all the i’s are dotted and t’s crossed… and no one’ll get hurt. It’s got out of hand for various reasons and I’m pretty sure I can plug it.’
‘Plug what?’
‘It,’ Barlow said. ‘Just back off, eh? If you know what’s good for you. Same applies to Mr Flynn.’ Barlow’s voice was persuasive, not threatening. But Henry didn’t like it.
I was right, he thought. ‘By the way — what you’ve just said? Not off my record.’
‘Don’t be a fool, Henry,’ Barlow whispered. ‘I’m protecting you here. Let me sort it.’
Henry pulled away. ‘You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life, Ralph.’
Barlow gave a ‘whatever’ shrug of indifference and mouthed the words, ‘Off the record.’
Henry got back into the car and said, ‘Let’s go.’
Barlow watched the car pull away.
Alison said, ‘What was all that about?’
‘I hate to think,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Flynn’s shower had gone very well. He got cleaned up nicely, as did the lady paramedic — who had ‘perspired’ a little after a long shift — and once they were well and truly scrubbed, the shower moved on to a whole new different level.
Then, after drying each other, they continued what they had started in the bedroom, going voraciously at each other, but also tenderly and with utmost respect until they finally disengaged and flopped back onto the bed, plum tuckered.
‘Jeepers,’ Flynn panted. ‘Wonderful.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Liz said dreamily, hardly able to keep her eyes open. She pulled the duvet over and snuggled down against him with a pleasurable murmur.
His eyelids fluttered and they were both on the verge of dream world when Flynn’s mobile phone rang.
Normally he would have ignored it in the circumstances, but the events of the last few hours and the possibility of news about Colin, his sick friend, made him reach out for it. The caller display said ‘number withheld’ and his heart sank. News about Colin, he assumed.
‘Steve Flynn,’ he answered.
‘Mr Flynn,’ a voice he did not recognize growled. ‘Friendly advice
… tell Henry Christie to back off…’ The line clicked dead before Flynn could utter a word.
‘Who was that?’ Liz mumbled sleepily.
‘No idea,’ Flynn said and dropped the phone onto the floor — but he knew now there was no chance of sleep.
