A gunshot, a woman’s scream, a yelp…
Kay’s mouth dropped open at the sudden barrage of noise exploding from the radio in Sharp’s hand, a cold chill clutching at her shoulders and neck.
Before either of them could utter a word, Disher’s voice carried across the airwaves.
‘Down! Down! Get down!’
She looked across to where Barnes stood beside one of the patrol vehicles, his jaw clenched while he listened to the radio belonging to the sergeant next to him, the blue fleck of the lights casting one side of his face into shadow.
Her heart racing, she wondered if she wore the same horrified expression, and turned to Sharp.
There was a burst of static, jumbled voices, whining and a man crying out in pain, then––
‘All clear.’
A strangled sigh of relief filtered through the gathered officers waiting at the cordon, and Sharp turned down his radio.
‘Thank Christ for that.’
Then another radio hissed from closer to the patrol cars and Disher’s voice carried across from where Barnes was now walking towards her.
Her colleague froze, his radio held aloft.
‘We need urgent medical attention. Fast. A vet too, if anyone knows one.’
‘What the hell…?’
Kay didn’t hear Sharp’s next words.
She elbowed her way past two young constables, hearing the ambulances’ engines roaring to life as her shoes found the gravel surface of the driveway, and set off at a sprint.
‘Kay, wait.’
There was no lighting at the entrance to the driveway, no welcoming lamp above the wooden sign for the Reddings’ property, and as she passed the gentle curve that brought the house into view, she uttered a shallow groan.
The downstairs lights poured through the windows, and she realised Disher’s team had pulled all the curtains back to reveal the aftermath of their operation and show incoming responders that the situation was now under control.
The French windows leading from Mark Redding’s study were wide open, and two of Disher’s men stood beside the sports car, rifles lowered while they watched her approach.
Another two men stood sentinel at the front door, one with his chin lowered to his radio.
She slowed, hearing Sharp call her name, but refused to look back.
Kyle and Phillip were part of her team.
She needed to know.
Needed to be with them.
Pulling her warrant card from her pocket, she waved it at the shorter of the two tactical officers as she approached.
‘I need to…’
He swung around, blocking access. ‘We haven’t yet released the room.’
Kay saw Disher halfway across the study with his back turned to her.
‘Paul.’
He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Let her in. I’ll be handing over to DCI Sharp in a second.’
Nodding her thanks to the two men who stood aside to let her pass, Kay crossed the threshold and into a hellish scene.
Roman MacFarlane lay on his stomach, hands handcuffed behind his back while he thrashed under the restraining hands of one of Disher’s colleagues despite the blood pooling under his legs.
‘He’s the one you should be arresting, not me,’ he screamed. ‘It’s all his fault.’
‘Stay still,’ came the brusque reply. ‘You’re going to hurt yourself otherwise.’
Kay swept her eyes past him to where Patricia Redding sat dazed in a chair behind her husband’s desk, a stunned expression on her face, blood streaming from a deep cut in her forehead while another tactical team member tried to stem the flow with tissues he yanked from a box next to the computer screen.
‘Mrs Redding, are you okay?’ she said, gulping in deep breaths and trying to calm her own heart rate.
The woman nodded, her gaze drifting to where Disher and his remaining four colleagues gathered around the armchairs next to the fireplace, three of them shielding one of the chairs from view.
Disher turned at the sound of her voice, then beckoned to her, his face grey.
Hurrying over, Kay swallowed at the sight of the dog sprawled across the carpet, a nasty flesh wound gaping in its shoulder while it whined.
One of Disher’s men broke away from the group and knelt beside it, stroking its head and murmuring to it.
As she joined the lead tactical officer, the questions in her head tumbled over one another.
What happened?
Whose gun was fired?
Why was the dog injured?
She didn’t get a chance to ask them.
Instead, Disher stepped aside, and she saw then what he had been focused on while she’d assessed the damage to the room in the few steps it had taken her to walk from the open doors to where he stood.
A crumpled form sprawled in the soft fabric of the armchair, the russet upholstery doing nothing to hide the pool of blood covering the seat and accentuating the pale features of Phillip Parker.
Kyle crouched next to him, his face stricken as he looked up at her.
‘Where’s the fucking ambulance?’ he cried. ‘We need a bloody ambulance.’
Kay turned back to the French windows at a noise, to see the first of the paramedics burst into the room, canvas holdalls in their grip.
‘Over here,’ Disher said, waving his men out of the way. ‘The bullet our suspect fired ricocheted – it caught him in the leg. Doesn’t look good.’
Stepping back to let the two ambulance officers take over, Kay pulled Disher to one side. ‘What happened, Paul?’
‘The dog escaped from the living room just before we came through the front door,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It went straight for MacFarlane and mauled his leg – he’s in a bad way too, but he can fucking wait for the second paramedic team. He fired the gun he was holding but what with the dog attack and the recoil, it went wide, missed your two officers but ricocheted into that coffee table. Walker says the splinters hit the dog at the same time they hit Phillip – we entered the room as Kyle launched himself at Roman while he was lining up a second shot.’
‘Shit,’ Kay breathed, looking at the chunks missing from the table that were now scattered across the rug.
Despite the two medics, she moved closer to the chair and gently took hold of Kyle’s sleeve. ‘Kyle, come on. We need to get you out of here.’
‘He’s dying, guv,’ he said hoarsely, his dark eyes reddening as he stood. ‘We can’t leave him.’
‘Dying?’
‘There’s a substantial amount of blood loss,’ the female medic said. ‘Looks like a large chunk of splintered wood sliced into his femoral artery. We’re trying to stem the flow…’
Kay staggered, then moved in front of Kyle and dropped to her knees, reaching out for Phillip’s hand.
‘Phil? I’m here. We’re doing everything we can, do you hear me? It’s going to be all right.’ She watched as the medics worked. ‘Shouldn’t you be taking him to hospital?’
‘We can’t risk moving him until we’ve stopped the bleeding,’ came the curt response. ‘Now if you don’t mind…’
A broad hand covered her shoulder and squeezed.
‘Kay…’
She shook her head, and wrapped her fingers around Sharp’s, seeking strength from her friend and mentor’s presence but seeing the desperation in the medics’ eyes as they tried to save the man she’d known since his days as a probationer.
Back then, he’d been a skittish skinny individual, partnered with older more experienced colleagues who gradually turned him into the officer she’d grown to rely on, and who had been such an integral part of her investigative team.
‘We’re losing him…’
Kyle emitted an anguished groan and turned away, his shoulders shaking.
‘Phil…’ she managed, hoping for a sign the man was going to beat the odds, looking for a flicker of life under his closed eyes.
Phillip’s chest gave a last shuddering sigh, and a shocked silence enveloped the small group.
After a moment, Kay rested her hand on Kyle’s arm. ‘We need to get you to the hospital. That’s a nasty cut on your cheek.’
‘I’ll stay here,’ he mumbled, tears shining. ‘I’ll go when they take him, and then I’ll get myself checked out.’
Unable to argue with him, unwilling to rely on her rank to demand he do as he was told in the shocking circumstances, Kay rose to her feet and turned away.
‘Kay.’ Sharp moved until he was standing in front of her, his grey eyes troubled. ‘Kay, listen to me. We’ve got to go back to the station. We have to re-interview Porter MacFarlane before we deal with Roman.’
She watched, too stunned to reply as Barnes staggered to his feet with the dog in his arms and disappeared through the French windows, bellowing at one of the young constables outside to get him to Adam’s vet practice.
‘Kay.’
She shook her head to try to counteract the grief that was punching at her heart and turned at Sharp’s voice. ‘Sorry, what, guv?’
‘We need to speak to Porter MacFarlane. I need you. Now.’
‘Okay.’ Squaring her shoulders, determined to find some answers for her dead colleague and knowing that the rest of her team would be looking to her to guide them through their own grief, she wiped away her tears and gave her mentor a curt nod.
‘I’m ready.’