Everything to the east of Stannington Road within a twenty-mile radius had been searched: Stannington Park, farms and their out buildings, open fields and the new housing estate, but to no avail. To the west of the main road lay more open fields and pockets of woodland. These were the areas now being targeted. If Keeley Armitage wasn’t found here, the search would have to be widened and continue over the border into Derbyshire. With nothing but sprawling acres of green land, the search would be arduous. More officers would need to be drafted in and other forces asked to join.
DC Finn Cotton and PC Natasha Tranter had been paired up and were tasked with searching the small copse of trees known as Storrs Brook. Light was beginning to fade, and it wouldn’t be long before the sun disappeared behind the looming clouds slowly edging their way across the horizon. Following a hot, dry summer, it would appear that autumn was about to bite; a storm was coming.
Throughout the day the wind had steadily increased. The heavy-duty waterproof trousers and matching coat, hat, and insulated gloves were not flattering, but they helped keep the officers warm.
‘I bet we’ve done more than ten thousand steps today,’ Natasha said as she and Finn left the brightness of farmland behind and entered the shadowy cover of trees. The temperature was noticeably cooler in the Brook.
‘My feet are killing me,’ Finn said. ‘I bet I’ve got blisters when I eventually take these off.’
‘Do you think we’ll find her?’
Finn turned to look at his partner. He saw the worried expression on her face. ‘I kind of hope we don’t. If we find her out here then we’re finding a dead body.’
‘The only alternative is that she’s been taken for … God only knows what. It’s a no-win situation.’
‘Don’t let DCI Darke hear you say that. There’s a lot riding on her finding Keeley alive.’
‘What’s she like to work for, DCI Darke?’
It was a while before Finn answered. ‘I don’t really know her that well. I generally take my orders from DI Brady, but she seems fair. She’s a little screwed up, obviously. Every now and then I feel like I’m being stared at. I look up and she’s glaring at me and then I remember I’m sitting at DC Easter’s desk.’
Searching the copse would require more intricate techniques than open space. There were many places a body, or clothing, or a scrap of fibre could be hiding. Finn took a torch from the pocket of his oversized coat and switched it on. It wasn’t dark yet, but twilight was setting in. It wouldn’t be long before the search was called off for the evening and they’d be brought back out here again tomorrow.
They looked around trees, up trees, swept undergrowth and scrambled through thickets. The ground was uneven and bone dry. Twigs snapped underfoot, the sound echoing in the silence.
‘Finn, can I ask you a question?’
‘Sure.’
‘Has anyone mentioned me in the HMET?’
He thought for a moment. ‘I don’t think so. Why?’
‘I just wondered if people were talking about me going out with Rory.’
‘I haven’t heard anything.’
‘That’s good. I’m being talked about by some of the uniform officers,’ she said, looking downbeat.
‘Really? Why?’
‘A female PC going out with someone in plain clothes; I’m obviously trying to further my career by sleeping my way to the top.’
‘Is that what they’re saying?’
‘Yes. When Harry Blythe went out with DS Hobbs last year, nobody said a dicky-bird. In fact, he received pats on the back all round.’
Finn noticed how suddenly distracted Natasha seemed. She’d lost all impetus in the search as she dwelled on the taunts she was receiving.
‘Have you spoken to your sergeant about it?’
‘What’s the point? She’s just as bad.’
‘I could have a word with DS Mills if you like. She can’t stand all this bullying in the workplace. She’d know exactly what to do.’
‘I’m frightened of looking into promotion in case people think I’ve only been accepted because of who I’m dating. I really like Rory. I’ve been out with a few headcases in my time, and I’ve got the scars to show for it, but Rory, well, he’s …’
She didn’t get to finish as she tripped on the root of an oak tree, lost her balance and fell. She slipped down a small embankment and into a dried-up river bed.
‘Natasha? Nat?’ Finn called from above. He didn’t receive a reply.
He edged his way down slowly, taking extra care where he stepped, and using each tree to steady himself so he didn’t take the quicker, but more painful route, to the bottom.
He found Natasha sitting upright, leaning against the truck of a mighty oak. She was nursing her ankle and looking straight ahead. Her face was muddy and grazed where she’d collided with a branch on her way down.
‘Natasha, are you all right? Have you hurt yourself?’
She didn’t reply. She stayed staring straight ahead, her expression blank, her eyes wide. He turned around to see what she was fixated on and almost fell over at the shock.
Upside down, legs entwined in the roots of a tree sticking out of the embankment, head almost touching the dry riverbed, was the cold dead body of Keeley Armitage.