Page 60 of Her Deadly Promise

‘Along with that photo you’re holding, we’re onto something. I don’t think the knife will be in the house and I think that Nadia was looking for it when she dug the plaster out of the wall. Did you find the fancy hair clip?’

‘No. There’s no sign of any fancy boxed hair clip under that bed or anywhere in this room.’

‘I don’t even think there’s a hair clip. That man is a seasoned liar.’

A short while later, Gina stretched and yawned in the hallway as she declared the end of their search. Various items were bagged but only the photo and the doll’s house were significant. Her phone rang. ‘O’Connor?’

Jacob and Wyre stood in silence, waiting for their colleague to blurt out what he had to say.

Gina ended the call. ‘They have a knife. It was found hidden under the carpet in Anderson’s office. It’s also got some crusting on it that looks to be dried up blood and it’s on its way to the lab as we speak.’

‘Yes,’ Jacob shouted as he clenched a fist.

‘You’ve done a great job, all. Go home, get some sleep, and I’ll see you first thing for the briefing.’ She turned to Jacob. ‘We’ll need to speak to Serena Reeves while we wait for the lab to work the knife. We only need the blood matched to Billie’s and we’ll have the evidence we need. Before we get too victorious, Nadia is still missing. Anderson hid that knife, and all the evidence is pointing to him being the murderer. We have him in custody which means, if he took his wife, she has been left alone somewhere or she’s…’ She paused, not wanting to face the alternative. ‘Or she’s already dead. We’re working on the hope and assumption that she’s still alive and she’s in danger. The weather is fatal when it’s this hot. If alive, she might not have access to water or food. We know she’s hurt. We must find Nadia.’

Gina got into her car and stared out of the window for several minutes as everyone left. One uniformed officer remained outside the door, remaining in place at the crime scene. She waved to him as she pulled off.

Even though it was still sticky hot, Gina shivered. Where are you, Nadia? She thought of William and how he needed his mother. The image of that huge bruise in the photo turned Gina’s stomach. She pulled over and stepped out of the car gasping for breath. It’s easy when people tell victims of domestic violence that they need to move on, forget it and live their life once they’re out of danger, but they know nothing. The nightmares never leave. She gasped as thoughts of what Nadia had been through pulsed through her mind. The woman in the photo had to be Nadia. If Anderson had caused her bruising and he’d hurt his wife… she’d what? She clenched her fist and kicked her car. She couldn’t even find Nadia. The word failure repeated in her mind.

Failure, failure, failure. She couldn’t remember a time when she hated herself more.

She walked around to the back of her car and opened her boot. Nadia’s garage door was left open. She pictured the perpetrator straining to place their victim in the boot of the car. Was Nadia bound and gagged or was she unconscious from her injuries? Had that car been parked up in the beating sun all day, leaving Nadia to cook? With trembling fingers, Gina slammed the boot shut.

FORTY-FOUR

Saturday, 18 June

Gina jolted up, her hair stuck to her forehead and her body burning like a furnace. She wrestled with her laptop and the leads as she fought with the bedcovers, flinging them off rapidly. Hot, so hot. The creeping and crawling around her neck as the heat radiated sent panic rising, and the itching was unbearable.

Reaching out, she flicked the switch on her lamp, illuminating her messy bedroom. Sitting up from the dampness on the sheets underneath provided no relief at all. Another night sweat. She stumbled up and an empty pop bottle crunched underfoot as she trod on it. She threw the sheets on the floor and grabbed a creased but clean set from the wardrobe. It was four in the morning; she’d only been asleep about an hour and her head was thick with a tiredness that had no chance of being satiated. Nadia’s Facebook and Instagram feeds hadn’t helped, and the woman had only been on TikTok for about a month and hadn’t uploaded any videos.

After reassembling her bed, she lay on top of the sheet like a snow angel in only her underpants and waited for her humming heart to calm down. It was over, for now. Sitting up, she lifted her laptop onto the bed and hit the button. As it whirred into life, she went back to the escort website she’d just opened before nodding off. The ‘Hi There Horny’ site stared her in the face, along with a woman’s wobbly boobs jiggling about in a bra that looked like it was made of string. She clicked into the escorts page, browsing down rows of them. Each one promising to relieve any horny person in no time. She flicked to another page and several trans women popped up. Billie was nowhere to be seen. Gina glanced at the lists of people all advertising their wears, then she came to a page of men, mostly young. So many people choosing a life of sex work, some in dire need of money just like Billie was. She tutted angrily as she continued clicking and scrolling. The cost of living crisis was getting worse, and she could see more people entering worlds in which they never thought they’d be party to. To the browsers, the people on the website were no more than a plethora of body parts. That’s all they’d been reduced to. Gina knew better. They were siblings, parents, cousins and friends. At least, she hoped they all had someone.

She held her breath as she stared at the woman at the top of the last page. It could be Billie in a wig. Half of her hair covered her face as she looked down. Golden locks fell over bare shoulders and the headshot stopped at the lace top of a pink bra. Gina clicked on the details. The woman was local to Cleevesford and had a contact button. She offered satisfaction, discretion and a service that a person would want to keep coming back for. Her name – Princess Kitty. There was a button underneath – more photos. Clicking, Gina was faced with a heavily filtered photo of a woman in a tiara wearing nothing but a white lace ball mask and a frilly white tutu. Positioned on a bed, knees digging into the mattress, hands pushing breasts up, the woman’s pink candy-coloured lips formed a high-gloss smile for the camera. Gina zoomed in. She recognised the wardrobes in the background. The photo was taken in Billie’s bedroom. She scrolled down to the reviews and comments section. Some were lewd, others were more enquiring in nature, but one thing was for sure, none of the people commenting had used their real name.

She picked up her phone, called the station and asked to be put through to the digital forensics team. ‘It’s DI Harte. I’ve found Billie Reeves’s profile online. I need you to contact the website and get everything you can. We need her personal messages, information on their users, the lot… I know it’s not going to be easy, but they won’t want to be dragged through the media.’

As Gina lay on her bed she wished she could call Briggs and share the joy with him, but he’d be in bed with Rosemary. They’d be snuggled up now that she’d moved in with him and her little boy would be sound asleep in the next room. A pang of jealousy flashed through her as she rolled over. There’s no way she’d sleep now. Instead, she started reading more of the messages and wondered if Edward Anderson had left one of the lewd ones. Billie’s murder had been more personal than some random punter from an escort site and Nadia had been taken too. Nadia was not a sex worker and Anderson had to be the link. One message stood out more than the others. Her stomach churned as she read it.

USER – BenedictCarnY

Sluts will get what they deserve!

FORTY-FIVE

CANDICE

‘Serena, hi. Are you going to be long, because I’m busy today? If you’re not coming, could you let me know?’ She ended the call after leaving the message, hoping that Serena hadn’t answered because she was driving. She didn’t even know if she’d recognise the woman.

Candice checked her watch; it was already nine thirty. She’d told Gavin that she was just popping to the supermarket while he made Poppy’s breakfast. She’d even poured all their milk down the sink, saying that it had soured to give her the excuse she needed to leave. Waiting to meet Serena felt weird. She barely knew of Billie’s little sister, but the woman obviously couldn’t say what she needed to say in a message and Candice was intrigued.

A woman with a pushchair struggled to get through the door. Serena didn’t have a baby so it couldn’t be her. Jumping up, Candice ran over and opened it. ‘There you go, hun.’ She smiled at the cute baby. The woman thanked her and lumbered over to the counter.

Sitting back down, Candice swirled the filter coffee around in the chipped mug. The café on Cleevesford High Street wasn’t a café she’d normally go anywhere near with its cheap plastic chairs and smeared tables. The smell of burned sausages had entered her nostrils and stuck at the back of her throat. Normally she’d meet friends at garden centres, or maybe even a wine bar, where the surroundings were a bit classier but Serena being a student probably used places like this, as they were cheaper. Candice had never experienced student life, but she’d heard that it was tough financially and she could sympathise. She swallowed. What was she meant to say to the woman who had just lost her sister? Her own upset couldn’t compare to that of Serena’s.

The café door pinged, snapping her out of her thoughts. Serena caught her breath as she hurried in. The woman walked a little stiffly as she pulled her black T-shirt down over her pale torn-at-the-knee jeans. Her hair hung over her shoulders in slightly tangled clumps, like she’d either just rolled out of bed or been in a brawl. ‘Sorry, I’m late. Everyone seems to be off work today and I couldn’t find anywhere to park outside the houses. I had to park miles away.’ She hurried up to the counter. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

One of those hideous coffees was enough. Candice shook her head. ‘No, I’m good thanks. My husband’s cooking breakfast so I haven’t got long.’ There was something she recognised about the young woman, but she couldn’t think what.

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