Page 42 of The Serial Killer's Sister
‘I know. I really am sorry. Again,’ I say with as much feeling as I can muster, even though the reality is I’d do the exact same even if I had the chance to change it, and I know it. And as DI Walker looms over me, his blue eyes piercing into mine, I get the awful feeling he does, too. Thankfully, he drops it, goes to the door and holds it open for me.
‘I’ll get uniform to drive you home,’ he says, ushering me out into the corridor.
‘Oh,’ I say, my voice high with surprise. ‘Are you not taking me?’
He gives me an incredulous look. ‘I haven’t got the time to waste taxiing you around.’ Then he strides off towards another room. I smart, but then immediately feel sheepish. He’s right, of course: not only is there a murder investigation in full swing, but there’s a time constraint too. I’ve likely wasted them enough of that already. I look around for the person tasked with being my driver.
I walk up and down the corridor a bit, trying to spot someone who appears free so that I can ask which officer I should be looking for. Everyone is busy and I feel stupid stopping them at such a time. It’ll be more helpful if I get the bus or a taxi.
As I turn the corridor towards where I think the exit is, I see a room with glass doors. A huge whiteboard covering one wall is visible, and I recognise some of the images stuck on it. I stop walking, and keeping out of sight, hover to the side so I can peek in.
DI Walker is standing pointing at one of the photos, and I can hear his deep voice through the doors. Although I can’t make out what he’s saying, he’s addressing a room of people – the attention of the officers I can see in the front row is fully on him. He looks stern, serious and – unless I’m mistaken – angry. Shit. I wonder if he’s telling them about me. How I went off without informing him. Removed evidence, made them lose precious time they didn’t have. Tears sting my eyes as the reality of my selfishness hits home.
Those poor women – caught up in a game they had no knowledge of, were not willing participants of. Was it bad luck that Henry chose them? Was it merely wrong place, wrong time, or had he stalked them for months beforehand to make sure they were what he wanted? Something thathappened years ago for Henry and me has caused these women to lose their lives now, and the fact it’s largely down, even if indirectly, to me sits like a heavy stone inside me. As I turn and walk away, I make a promise to myself that I’ll be more thoughtful, put others first from now on. If I get the chance.
That promise makes me feel better for all of twenty minutes. Then, as I’m sitting on the bus being jiggled around, numbly watching the buildings and fields whoosh by, I realise I made that very promise before, when I left Finley Hall. Am I really just full of lies and broken promises?
Chapter 29
I step off the bus a few stops ahead of time, deciding a brisk walk along the edge of Shaldon Beach will do me good and help clear my head before going back to my empty house. A chill air whips against my face. May’s weather has been hit and miss so far, but even when it’s warm, this part of the coast always seems to feel cool as the wind carries across the estuary.
I’m about to drop down onto the beach when I hear my name being called. My first thought is that it’s someone who’s seen the zebra crossing incident and wants to give me a piece of their mind, but as I turn and recognise the woman whose head is poking out from her wound-down car window, I relax and stride back to the road.
‘Serena! What are you doing here?’ I smile, a warmth spreading through me at seeing a friendly face, and I duck down so I’m level with her.
She raises her eyebrows. ‘Well, seeing as you haven’tcalled like you said you would, I thought I’d come to you. I’ve been going crazy worrying about you.’
‘Oh, Serena. I’m so sorry, it’s been a jam-packed day. I didn’t mean to concern you.’ I know I owe her an explanation. A full, proper one. I point towards The Clipper Café. ‘Why don’t you park up and we’ll grab a coffee in there.’
Serena looks at me questioningly. ‘I may as well come to yours – it’s just up ahead and cheaper,’ she says.
Of course, we could do that, but rather than attract unwanted attention from whatever police surveillance might be in place at my house, and to reduce the risk that Henry might clock my friend, I’d rather be somewhere else. Plus, it stretches out the time before Ihaveto go home. A sadness wells inside my stomach at the thought.
‘I’m out of milk,’ I say, and walk away before she can object, or offer to buy some for me. I find a table overlooking the waterside and wait for Serena to join me.
‘You’re not out of milk, Anna. You’re never out of anything.’ She plonks down opposite me and puts her hands over mine. ‘How come you don’t want me to come to the house?’
I let out a huge sigh. ‘It’s Ross.’
‘What about him?’ she asks.
‘He’s the reason I didn’t call back.’ The half-truth is out of my mouth before I have a chance to think. ‘He left me.’ I really should’ve started at the beginning, with DI Walker’s first visit and how he told me that my brother is wanted for multiple murders. I’ve skipped a few pages. Chapters, even.
‘What? Oh, ha-ha,’ she says, laughing. I look into hereyes so she can tell I’m not joking, and her face loses its colour. ‘No way!’ she gasps, her hand clapping to her mouth.
‘It’s a bit more complicated than that, but yes, in essence. I was about to order coffee, but do you fancy a glass of wine instead?’
‘Oh, no alcohol for me, Anna. I’m driving, remember? Got a date with Tim at eight, too …’ She twists her mouth into a guilty grimace. ‘I could cancel.’
‘No, don’t do that,’ I say quickly. ‘Wouldn’t want to ruin your night; sounds like it’s all going well. Wedding bells soon, no doubt!’ I attempt to sound upbeat, excited for her. Her taut expression suggests I haven’t managed it.
‘I’ll ignore the sarcasm, given your news,’ she says.
I really hadn’t meant to come across like that. I give what I hope is an apologetic smile.
‘Hot chocolate, then?’
She nods, shrugging off her coat and flinging it over the back of the chair. We head to the counter and order drinks. When we’re seated again, I give Serena the edited details about Ross and Yasmin; how I’d found out about their affair when I went to visit his office yesterday – saw them all cosied up and confronted them then and there. Her eyes are wide as I relay the story, and I can tell she’s itching to interject, ask for more details, but I continue so she can’t get a word in. I leave the worst till last, waiting until we’ve finished our drinks then moving to the chairs outside on the patio before dropping the bombshell.
