Page 109 of Night Call

“So you’re taking me off the fucking case?” Blake snapped.

A muscle in the inspector’s jaw ticked. “No, of course not. It just means we’re going to be having a few closed-door meetings over the next few days. You can carry out your other duties as normal. Understand?”

Blake’s lip peeled back over his canines, making Mark and Caitlin visibly tense. “No, boss, I don’t. You said you trust me, and I’m telling you, you can trust Pember. There is absolutely no reason to?—”

The inspector pounded his fist on the desk, a tendril from his comb-over falling onto his forehead. “There is every fucking reason!” he shouted, rising to his feet.

Blake followed suit.

“Integrity, DS Smith! Not yours, not Pember’s, hers! Think about how many rape kits Miss Sharma’s processed, both children and adults. How many fucking times she’s stood up in court to give evidence against a domestic abuser. If something gets back to her, or we make it known that she’s under investigation, every—fucking—piece—of—work she’s ever done will have to be integrity checked at best, or re-processed at worst. Could you imagine all the sexual abuse victims that would have to stand up in court and face their attackers again? The number of appeals and retrials would be fucking astronomical. If sheisconnected, this won’t just be about the murders anymore. Any crime that West Newton has investigated over the last five years will be brought into question. All because of Maya fucking Sharma.”

That tipped a bucket of cold water over Blake’s rage.

“Look,” the inspector continued, “I trust you, and I respect you, Blake. But unfortunately these are the decisions I have to make. One day you’ll understand, but for now, produce me a statement of everything you’ve discovered today, mark it as sensitive and donotshare it with anyone else. This is the only way forward until I speak to the chief constable. I’ll let you know once we’ve got a strategy in place.”

Blake felt numb as he collected George and Bailey from the kennels. They’d both run off into the bushes again, but Blake found he didn’t have the energy to call them back. Or shift. Or even walk back to his car. He stared blankly towards the top of the field, unable to get his thoughts in order.

The inspector’s words rang through his head like a funeral bell, the magnitude of what they’d uncovered slowly sinking in.He felt unsteady in his own body. His wolf was pacing, like the ground was about to be ripped out from beneath them both.

Usually, they’d work through it by plugging his brain into something at work, or pushing his body until he was forced to rest or shift and then get up and do it all again. Distraction, distraction, distraction. But now… now all he wanted was to return home and have dinner with Pember. He wanted to hold him, to lie with him on the sofa and watch a shitty film until he fell asleep in his arms. Fuck, he wanted him in his bed just to sleep and wake up together.

Shaking his head, he remembered the massive bag of supplies in the boot of his car.

“George! Bailey!” he called, before turning back towards the car park and heading for home.

“What’s wrong with you?” Val said, scowling as she noisily chewed a fork full of cottage pie.

Blake was well aware that he’d been staring down at his plate for the last five minutes, but he couldn’t bring himself to start eating.

“Nothing,” he said quietly, lifting his fork but not putting it in his mouth. “How’re you feeling? Stomach any better?”

Val scoffed. “I’m fine. But you’re not.”

Blake cleared his throat and tried to force a closed-lipped smile. “What did the doctor say?”

“The same thing he always says. That I’m old, my cholesterol is too high and my bunions are getting worse.”

Blake’s lip twitched. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Val shrugged, dabbing a napkin to her mouth. “I’m buggered, Blake. Have been ever since Earnie passed. But, more importantly, why aren’t you withhim?”

Blake frowned. “Who?”

Val quirked a wispy white eyebrow. “You know who. I might be old, but I know an omega in heat when I smell one.”

Huffing, Blake shovelled a forkful of food into his mouth to avoid answering the question. Val only stared at him, patiently waiting for him to finish.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

Val sighed. “For crying out loud, you’re an awkward bastard. Did he get you with his Temperance Spoon or something?”

Blake coughed. “His what?”

Val’s mouth pulled into a wicked grin. “You know, ‘One Whack and It’ll Go Slack’? No? Maybe you’re too young.”

“I think you’re making it up,” Blake said, taking another mouthful.

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