The storm had broken overnight. It was as if nature had been waiting for Keeley to be found before unleashing a barrage of sixty-mile-per-hour winds and a month’s worth of rain in six hours. Had Keeley’s body not been found in time, vital forensic evidence might have been lost, and there was no telling what state the body would have been in when it came to identification.
Matilda hadn’t heard the storm. The tall trees at the bottom of her garden had swayed in the gusts and shed most of their leaves. Her garden, landscaped to give it an intentionally wild look, had been given a serious hiding; pots had been tossed about and smashed, plants and flowers drowned, and the cushions on the garden furniture were beyond salvageable.
While the storm was raging, Matilda had been safely indoors with Daniel Harbison. He was knocking on her front door within ten minutes of her calling him. They stood in the hallway facing each other, eyes locked, standing almost toe to toe. Nothing needed to be said. The atmosphere was electric. Matilda made the first move. She grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him towards her, kissing him hard and passionately. She took his hand and led him upstairs.
Matilda didn’t know if it was finding Keeley’s body, her mood plummeting, the sense she didn’t want to be alone, or the memories this case stirred up of Carl Meagan going missing, his subsequent return (maybe), or remembering the time in 2015 when she was happy, had a husband she loved and someone to go home to. Whatever the reason for calling Daniel, she was pleased he had come around. She’d forgotten how much she loved sex, the feeling of a hard body pressed against her and a man’s huge, callused hands all over her. It was a pleasure she thought she’d never have again. She was happy she’d waited for the right man rather than a casual encounter she’d soon regret.
As Daniel was showering in the en suite he’d designed, Matilda lay in bed, the duvet wrapped around her. She was smiling. There was a general feeling of bliss and satisfaction about her. She looked across at the framed photo of James on the bedside table. She didn’t feel guilty for sleeping with another man; she felt proud of herself for moving on, finally. After months of telling herself that was what she was doing, she’d actually done it, and it felt amazing.
***
Matilda hoped she wasn’t grinning inanely as she entered the HMET suite. If anyone would pick up on the signs something wonderful had happened to her overnight it would be Sian, and once Rory found out, she’d be the talk of the whole station. Fortunately, everyone was occupied with the aftermath of Keeley’s body being found and were all hard at work. Matilda was able to sneak in unnoticed.
There was a knock on the glass door of her office. She looked up and saw Christian standing on the other side. She beckoned him in.
‘Morning. How are you feeling?’ He asked.
‘I’m ok.’
‘Listen, I hope you don’t mind, but I was talking to Jennifer about you last night,’ he said, referring to his wife. He pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘She can always tell when there’s something niggling away at me. Anyway, we know you’re on your own in that big house, no neighbours around, so, if you want to come over to ours for a meal or a few drinks, you’re more than welcome. Open invitation, that kind of thing.’
Christian was obviously nervous at breaking down the professional walls with his boss. His moist brow and his reddened cheeks were testament to that. Matilda couldn’t help but smile. She guessed he’d been badgered by his wife all night until he agreed to ask her.
‘That’s very kind of you, Christian, thank you. I may do that one day. Thank Jennifer for me, as well.’
‘I will.’ He seemed to visibly relax. Matilda hadn’t accepted but she hadn’t said a firm ‘no’ either. The invitation may be left open, but they both knew she wouldn’t act upon it.
‘How is Jennifer?’
‘She’s doing ok. She’s increased her hours at work. More money coming in, finally.’
‘More going out, too, unfortunately.’
‘Tell me about it. Anyway, the reason I came to see you is because Jodie Armitage has been on Twitter again.’
‘Oh?’ Matilda looked to her computer. She hadn’t turned it on yet.
‘Yes. She announced late last night that her sister had been found dead. Then she put up a few photos of Keeley saying what a beautiful girl she was and that she’d miss her.’
‘What kind of photos?’ Matilda turned to her computer and logged on to the social networking site. Rather than posting several photos in a single tweet, Jodie had posted them all individually and almost flooded the site with smiling pictures of her younger sister. Matilda looked at the times of the tweets; they were all several minutes apart.
‘What’s she doing?’ She asked herself as she scrolled through the teenager’s timeline.
‘I think she’s attention seeking.’
‘What?’ Matilda looked up.
‘I know it’s a horrible thing to say, but her sister has just died; everything will be about her now. Then, after the funeral, when she goes back to school and the dust has settled, all the attention will be on Linda and Craig and Riley. Even then, Keeley will be thought of before Jodie is to keep her memory alive. This is Jodie’s outlet for someone to acknowledge her and her grief.’
Matilda looked at the DI with a puzzled expression. ‘That’s very deep for you.’
‘I think I might be maturing,’ he said with a glint in his eye.
‘Well, keep it up. We could do with more maturity around here. I’ll get Ellen to have a word with Jodie about posting online and we need to keep an eye on what else she posts.’
‘I can monitor that. Will you be attending the PM?’
‘Yes. It’s been pushed back until Linda and Craig have formally identified the body.’
‘I can’t begin to imagine what they’re going through. To see your child on a mortuary slab must be the worst image possible.’ He remained in his seat, staring into space.
‘Do you want to get everyone ready for the briefing?’ Matilda prompted.
‘Sure.’ He stood up and headed for the door. He turned back to Matilda. ‘Have you changed your hair or something?’
‘No. Why?’ She asked, pushing her hair behind her ears.
‘You look different.’
‘In what way?’
‘I’m not sure. There’s something just … different.’
‘Nope. Same old me.’
‘Must be me.’ He left the room.
Matilda smiled to herself. She stood up and was about to join the team when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. There was a text and an email waiting for her. The text was from Daniel:
Can’t believe what we did last night. So happy. Free for dinner tonight?
She didn’t reply. She didn’t want to seem too eager.
The subject line of the email was ‘DNA Sample’. She opened it and read that the sample from the boy in France claiming to be Carl Meagan was now in the hands of forensics officers working for South Yorkshire Police. It wouldn’t be long before the truth was revealed.