Hard Girls (20 page)

He had used paralytics, he was not physically strewdie. He had

Chapter Ten

‘I still feel bad, Kate, but you can understand my feelings, can’t you?’

Kate didn’t really, and she was fed up with pretending that she did. She and Annie had been good friends, but both of them knew that they were spending far too much time together. Kate took a deep breath and steadied her growing anger before saying quietly, ‘Can we just let it go, Annie? I know you feel I have invaded your space, and I have. But you know that, in reality, it’s actually
my
space. I mean, I own the bloody house. But I will leave, if you really feel it’s necessary, because this is starting to get on my wick.’

Annie felt bad about her resentment, and it was just that, real, raw, resentment, but she couldn’t help it. After all, she had rented this house fair and square. Now Kate was back, and she was suddenly the lodger. She felt like a stranger in what was, in effect, her own bloody home. But this went deeper than that, and they were both aware of it. Annie knew that Kate needed her, but she needed Kate even more. Especially with all that was going on. The resentment had really surprised her. In fact, she had not expected the depth of feelings she had experienced since this all started.

Annie felt ashamed of herself, even though she knew her feelings were perfectly natural. After all, she had done the psychology courses, she knew that her bad feelings were caused by the fact that the person she was determined to learn from now seemed to be taking over everything. How unfair was that? Hating the person you wanted to help you get on in life. How selfish was she? But she already knew the answer to that, she was jealous of Kate, and it killed her because she also loved her as a friend. But Kate made her feel so inadequate at times. Annie was thrilled at being given the experience of working on such a high-profile case with someone like Kate, but she also knew that she came second to Kate in every way. People talked to Kate before they spoke to her, and
she
was supposedly the lead detective. Kate was supposed to be there as a consultant, two days a week. In truth she had never stuck to that though. She was the person in charge of everything and, even though Annie knew that was because she had the experience, the reputation, and the good grace to help out, it still rankled. It made Annie feel she was on the sidelines, that she was once again the ingénue, the youngster. And why did she feel that needing Kate’s help was like admitting defeat?

Annie was out of her depth, and that frightened her. The way the girls had died frightened her. The fact that there would, more than likely, be more deaths terrified her. Unlike Kate, Annie had not learned enough to set her feelings aside, to concentrate only on what was relevant. Unlike Kate, she felt overwhelmed and nervous about the seriousness of everything that was going on around her. Unlike Kate, she wasn’t sure she could cope with this pressure which was like sooner rather than laterse alongdre eventually nothing she had ever experienced before in her life.

‘Please, Annie, let this go, will you? We should be pulling together, not moving apart. I get that you’re pissed off with me, I get that you want a fight. But I don’t want that. I really don’t want to fall out with you again.’

Annie knew how pissed off Kate was, she could hear the annoyance in her voice, see the impatience in her face.

‘I am willing to go to a hotel, do anything if it will get us back on an even keel. But it doesn’t change the fact that this is
my
house, or the fact that I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be here. And do you know what really hurts? I’ve lost everything that really mattered to me, and I’ve done nothing but try to help you in any way that I can. I have prioritised, and made you as much of a priority as the girls who have died. But I can’t cope with any more of this crap. We seem to have fallen out again and I don’t understand why. I thought we had got over all this. I know the situation is not ideal but, if you want, I can give you notice to quit and we can go from there. The contract allows me to give you twenty-eight days’ notice, don’t make me do something we’ll both regret.’

Annie looked into Kate’s face and she could see the sorrow. She could also see that Kate was just about at the end of her tether. She was missing Patrick, regretting that she had forced the issue and that it had ended their relationship. She also knew that Kate would need to see this case through to the bitter end, and she also saw that she herself was turning into Kate. It was this knowledge that bothered her so much. She could see herself in ten years time, how lonely she would be. But Annie knew that there was nothing she could do to stop that happening. Even though she was aware that her chosen career was going to be the cause of her being alone for the best part of her life, she couldn’t change anything. She wasn’t annoyed with Kate, she was annoyed with herself. Annie looked at Kate and saw the person she would eventually turn into; a lonely woman, well past her sell-by date, whose only interest was in the lives of other people. People who had been murdered, raped, or robbed. These people would become her only reason for living.

Annie had no man, no real social life, she didn’t even own her own home because she was more interested in getting on in her career, and if that meant she would have to move on, go to another station, she didn’t want the added aggravation of having to sell up.

‘I’m sorry, Kate. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t explain why I’ve been acting like I have, I can’t put it into words. I feel like this is all too much, the girls, the way they died. The pressure, the constant pressure, and the feeling of inadequacy because we can’t seem to put anything together, that we can’t link anything up to make any kind of connection, no matter how many people we interview. I hate that everyone defers to you, even though I am doing that as well. It’s like all this has shown me just how fucking useless I am really. I
know
that I am out of my depth, but I don’t know what I am supposed to do about it. I feel like an amateur, like everything I have learned over the years means nothing in the face of all this. I can’t sleep, all I can see when I close my eyes is their bodies. I see their families and wonder at their pain and their terror. All I do is try and work out over and over again what kind of person does this, how they can hurt another person and not care about it. I lie there, hour after hour and, in the end, all I seem to be capable of is absolutely nothing. And I don’t know for him.’ft sexual b d what I am supposed to do, what I am supposed to feel.’

Annie was nearly in tears, and Kate saw the bewilderment in her face, heard the fear in her voice. She knew that Annie was experiencing the exact same emotions as every other detective who was involved in serial murders. Serial murders were always senseless, always distressing, and always left the people involved, from the families concerned right through to the lowliest of PCs, in a state of complete and utter shock. These deaths made no sense to anyone except the person responsible, and that person was generally living in a parallel universe. They lived by their own secret code and were capable of great deception, they had to be to carry out their plans. They were clever, they were devious, and they were the reason Annie Carr would never sleep through the night again.

The silence was heavy between them. Kate understood that Annie secretly felt guilty because she had wanted a case like this, she had yearned for a case that would enable her to make her mark in her world. Now she had it, and it wasn’t anything like she had expected it to be. Kate had been there, and done that. She also knew that like her, Annie would find out that even if they caught the person responsible, it ultimately wouldn’t make her feel better. All it would do was give her a temporary feeling of relief.

Shaking her head sadly, Kate said, ‘Come here, you bloody fool. We need to be together on this, not arguing or having a pissing contest. Leave that to the men, all we can do, love, is stick together and hope for the best, because no matter what anyone says, or whatever you might have read, we will not find this fucker till they make a mistake. So embrace your anger and your feelings of failure, because it will always be like this. I should know, I’ve done this before and, even when you find the bastard, it doesn’t make you feel much better.’

Annie was hugging her now, and Kate felt sorry for her because it never really got any better. All Annie could ever really look forward to was some kind of ending to this case. And even that was never going to be a happy one.

Patrick knew there was some kind of trouble afoot, he just didn’t know what that trouble might be. He could feel it closing in on him, knew that somehow his world was going to be rocked. Des was on his way over, and he had sounded nervous on the phone. There was something fishy going on, and Patrick was honest enough to admit to himself that, at this moment in time, he really didn’t want to have to deal with more aggravation.

Eve was becoming a part of his life. He liked her, she was a good girl. He also liked that she was extremely fuckable, that she was interesting, and that he felt good around her. Eve made him feel young again, that he was still a part of it all. She saw him as being someone of value, and he needed that these days. After Kate and her defection, Pat craved someone to boost his ego again.

Kate’s departure had hit Pat harder than he had thought possible. He missed her and when he saw her picture in the paper or watched her on the news, it hurt all over again. Pat was still reeling from the fact that he was now alone. Even with Eve, he was alone. It was as if suddenly he saw his life through a magnifying glass, and it showed him just how little he actually had. If you stripped away his money, he was left with basically nothing of any value any more.

Pat felt that he was just drifting through life, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do to make it better. He had lived a good life: he’d travelled, eaten in good restaurants and dressed well. He had cars and property. He basically had the means to do anything good enoughche still couldnyhe wanted. So why did it mean nothing to him? Why did he feel it was all a waste of time? Pat felt that he had to make something happen soon, make something of his life again. He looked around him and saw himself as he really was, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like what he had become. An old man with no one. He had lost all his zest for living, felt the silence of his home like a cloak around him, mocking him. He needed young Eve, he wanted her youth to make him feel alive again. He prayed that some of her natural enthusiasm might rub off on him, that she might give him back the will to live. She could make him want life again, want and enjoy it. Give him a second chance before it was too late.

Sandy Compton was beautiful. Small-boned, she had a delicate, heart-shaped face that was reminiscent of a Victorian doll. She had natural blond hair and baby-blue eyes that were framed by thick, dark lashes and her Cupid’s bow mouth made her look as if she was smiling, even when she wasn’t. She was given to wearing very feminine clothes, lacy, old-fashioned attire that suited her look. She pulled it off, and somehow she managed to look both sexy and innocent. Of course, her picture on the website showed her at her best, Sandy was a very photogenic girl. Her eyes were the first thing men noticed, they were very enigmatic eyes. Women also looked at her, she was so unique. Sandy had very good manners. Unlike a lot of the girls, she came from a very good background and was well educated and well spoken. She also had the benefit of being twenty-seven, but looking nineteen in the right light.

Sandy actually liked the job. She had worked the life to pay her way through uni, a lot of girls did. It was good money with good working hours and Sandy found she had a knack for it. She enjoyed it. It was fun, and she liked the excitement of it. She now had more money than she needed, and a comfortable lifestyle. Her parents thought she was running her own interior design business, and they never asked her anything too taxing about her work, were never too intrusive. If her mother was ever sober enough, Sandy would give her a fancy little story about a lottery winner’s house, or a magazine spread that she knew pleased her, but didn’t really provoke her interest. She’d even hidden the time she spent in prison behind a story of a gap year. That was the great thing about her job, she loved the anonymity of it. She also loved that she was breaking the law, yet wasn’t breaking the law. She was breaking a moral law, but she didn’t care.

The girls who had died recently were something she thought about a lot but, on a personal level, she felt very safe. The men she attracted tended to be old-fashioned gentlemen who treated her with the utmost respect, liked the saucy side of her, and the fact that she enjoyed her work. Unlike most of the girls, Sandy didn’t need any chemicals to do her job, not even alcohol. She always attracted the kinder, more refined men who liked a drink before, and casual chatter. Sandy made them feel like they were on a date, were in charge. She knew the majority respected that because they didn’t feel like that at home. Men came to her to escape the family, the wife, the responsibility, they came to her to relax in nice surroundings with someone who agreed with everything they said, laughed at their jokes, had some eager sex with them and waved them off with a smile and a cheery little wave. But as she poured herself a small sherry and relaxed back into her chair, Sandy said a little prayer for her friends and colleagues. After all, they were all girls together, and that was why they looked out for each other.

Sandy was more or less finished for the night, and she yawned delicately. Then, repairing her hair and make-up, she wa Page

Oh, she liked Mr Spalding. He was a nice respectable man with two grown daughters and a wife who spent most of her time tending to her elderly mother. He spent most of his time as far away from his wife and her elderly mother as possible. He was as worried about Sandy’s safety as she was, and she assured him that he was her only customer. She told them all that, it made them feel better and gave her the edge. But she could see that, at some point, she would need to get herself a nice, rich husband with a good job and a kind nature. She would produce a child, and play a new game, motherhood. Everything she did, she did to the utmost. She allowed herself another three years before she snared herself a live one, and when she did, he would be wealthy, of a certain age, and he would allow her free rein to do what she wanted. Her mobile beeped and Sandy smiled greedily to herself. Another day, another dollar.