Page 2 of Her Hidden Shadow

As they staggered out into the chilly January air, Lauren breathed out a plume of white steam. While waiting, the three women huddled together in their tiny dresses. Heels like towers threatening to break their ankles should they slip on the icy pavement. How she wished she’d brought a coat now. Maxine held her leopard print cape open for the three of them to bunch under and that’s how they waited until the taxi turned up, the same driver that had picked them all up from Lauren’s earlier.

‘Thank goodness.’ Lauren hurried into the front seat and the others struggled with their seat belts in the back. Before long, they were on the road back to Cleevesford. As she began to feel her numb fingers again, the motorway streetlights sent her eyelids drooping. She yawned and glanced back. Maxine’s head lay on Dee’s shoulder, and she snorted before dribbling. Both were out cold. In about fifteen minutes after the other two had been dropped off, she’d be safely home and tucked up, warming her cold feet on Robbie.

Streetlights came and streetlights went. The car got warmer and warmer, and the soothing music blended with the sound of the heater, lulling her into slumber. So warm, so comfortable. She smiled as she imagined how she’d look in her white dress on the big day. They planned to marry the following June. It would be warm and there would be bridesmaids in soft mint-green taffeta dresses, like little garden fairies. Then, the man of her dreams would be waiting for her, ring in hand as her mother begrudgingly gave her away. Her mum would come round to the wedding by then and they’d all be happy. Sienna would be her chief bridesmaid. The gorgeous best friend who she’d known since nursery school.

‘Miss, miss?’

She prised her sticky eyes open and cleared her sandpaper throat. The mojitos weren’t sitting well. Acid stung her gullet. Where were Max and Dee? ‘What?’

The taxi driver undid his seat belt and came around to her side where he opened the door. ‘You’re home. I dropped your friends off first. You’ve been asleep since we hit the motorway.’

He leaned in and began to pull her under the arms. She batted him away. How dare he lay his filthy hands on her. She was drunk, vulnerable. ‘Get off me,’ she yelled. ‘I can get up on my own.’ Had she paid him? She pursed her lips as she thought. Yes, she’d paid for the return journey up front.

He stepped back. ‘Okay, lady, I was just trying to help. Maybe you should take your shoes off.’

He was right. She slipped off her red pointed stilettos and struggled out of the car. The cold bit at her bare shoulders and her teeth began to chatter. ‘Thank you. I’m okay now.’

‘Just to be clear, I was only trying to help you out the car.’ The taxi driver’s dark-eyed stare made her look away.

‘Yes, of course.’ She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep and not said goodbye to her friends. Or worse, she couldn’t believe she’d slept while alone in a stranger’s car. Anything could have happened. Why didn’t her friends wake her up? The driver stared. ‘I’m okay now. Thank you.’ She stood on the pavement, almost sobering up on the spot as the cold penetrated her bare feet. She watched as the man got back into his car and drove a little way down the road, before pulling up just ahead. His car lit up as he held his phone to his ear. It was okay, he was just talking on the phone not stalking her. All was fine. They’d had a great night out and she was now going to bed.

Giggling, she began to hum a song by Rihanna that she’d been dancing to earlier that night as she fumbled in her tiny bag for her keys. Out spilled the tissues. Her favourite lipstick shattered on the pavement, and she was sure she dropped a five-pound note. Never mind. She’d come and gather her stuff up in the morning, or maybe Robbie would help her look for everything. With trembling fingers, she eventually managed to get the key in the lock and turn it.

Creeping into the hallway, she listened for any sign of life but not a sound could be heard. She popped her keys in the fruit bowl on the console table and dropped her shoes with a clunk onto the floor. As silently as she could, she crept to their bedroom and cautiously nudged the door open. In pitch darkness, she fumbled around, removing her dress and lifting the quilt up on her side. She sunk into their luxurious mattress. She edged her toes over to Robbie’s side where her foot met his leg. He was stone cold. Reaching out, she pressed her finger into wetness. Jolting up, she reached for her lamp and fought to find the switch. As light filled the room, she struggled to breathe as she took in the bloody body of her best friend, Sienna. Her dark, blood-soaked hair sprawled out on Robbie’s pillow.

As she went to scream, she heard a bang coming from the living room. Her heart began to thump, and a faintness came over her as she gasped for breath. Where was Robbie and who was outside her bedroom door? Without another thought, she screamed as loud as she could and pressed nine-nine-nine on her phone before the intruder entered.

Two

‘No.’ Gina pulled her naked body away from DCI Chris Briggs’s warmth as she reached for her buzzing phone.

He rubbed his eyes and rolled onto his back, dragging the quilt from her. ‘What time is it?’

‘Shh.’ She answered the call and gestured for him to stay silent. Whoever was calling from the station couldn’t know that her DCI was currently in her bed, and he knew the drill. He smiled and stroked her back as she waited for the caller to speak.

‘DI Harte?’

‘Yep.’ She rolled over onto her side. His hand reached her buttock. She playfully slapped it away.

‘We had a call come in just after three a.m. Murder of a young woman. The address is 29 Bell Road. Four uniformed officers are currently in attendance, and you are listed as being on call tonight. We’ll keep trying DS Driscoll. Forensics are on their way and the rest of your team will be informed.’

Gina leaned back against her pillow. ‘I’m leaving in a minute.’ She ended the call.

‘Who was it?’

‘Dispatch. Murder on Bell Road.’ She leaned down and kissed him on the lips, her chin brushing against the stubble that he’d shave before going into the station.

He ran one of his large hands through his hair and sat up. Gina’s cat, Ebony, jumped on the bed. ‘I’ll feed her, get up and head to the station. As soon as you’ve weighed up the scene, call me.’ He called the cat and left the bedroom.

‘Will do.’ Hurrying to the bathroom, she got cleaned up and left. She didn’t know if she could trust him totally after all they’d been through, but she needed his warmth and closeness. When someone knew a person as well as he knew her, it was impossible to let go, and she did love him, even though they almost parted for good not so long ago. A flash of insecurity made her shudder.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled up on the road behind the blue light vehicles. Two police cars, an ambulance and a forensics van had already arrived at the scene. She spotted Crime Scene Manager Bernard Small’s tall gangly frame dressed in a crime scene suit. He hunched over as he pulled his forensics toolkit from the van. Three assistants followed him, carrying camera bags and various bits of equipment. A uniformed officer was tying the outer cordon around a final lamppost, blocking off the whole cul-de-sac. PC Smith stood guard with his clipboard ready to manage anyone entering the scene.

DS Jacob Driscoll pulled up a little further down the road in his dark saloon car. He hurried toward her, and she stepped out of her car to meet him. ‘Morning, guv,’ he said. She brushed down her black coat, removing the cat hairs, then she quickly dragged her long brown hair into a bobble. Jacob smoothed his short back and sides down with his hands.

‘Morning, Jacob. Best get to it.’ She stopped walking as she reached PC Smith. ‘Fill us in.’

‘Alright, guv.’ The uniformed officer rubbed his gloved hands together. ‘The person who found the victim, Lauren Cross, called us at five past three. She reported an intruder and the murder of her best friend. Her partner, Robbie Shields, is nowhere to be seen and was meant to be home. When she called she thought the murderer was in her home, so we rushed a police car over. Since arriving, officers have searched the rooms for the intruder but found no one. When we went in the bedroom we found Lauren Cross sitting on the bed crying, and the body of her friend lying in the bed. One officer immediately checked the victim for a pulse but there was no sign of life, in fact he said the body was cold. Another officer led Miss Cross out of the house and into the ambulance where she is about to be taken to hospital. She’s drunk, in shock, and was screaming and trying to fight us off. The paramedic offered her something to calm her down which she took, so I think she’s slightly sedated.’

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