Chapter 14

Reid watched from the shadows as Garrett’s car exited the drive and sped off from Chantry Close in the direction of the carriageway. He guessed he was heading in to work. At least that’s what he hoped for. It was now or never, and he had to know—one way or the other.

He still couldn’t put his finger on it. He was acting on nothing more than gut instinct. It was all on the line, the job, the pension, and his liberty, but this time it was personal, he just couldn’t let it go, not like this.

Reid moved forward, a silent prayer on his lips that he wasn’t wrong. He reached the back door and tried the handle—as he’d expected, it was locked. He moved to the French windows and peered in, the key was in the lock. The teak wooden frames housed single glass units measuring approximately six by eight inches, enough to force an elbow through.

On entering the house, Reid stopped and listened to the silence, what had he expected? He didn’t know, but his copper instinct told him he was on the right track. Reid made his way through the open plan living area into a smaller room, a TV - man cave. Judging by the folders and paperwork strewn about the place it doubled as a makeshift office. Reid sifted through the papers, unsure of what it was he expecting to find.

Finding nothing of note, he exited the TV room and alighted the doglegged staircase. Searching each room in turn, still he found nothing. Reid then made his way into the bathroom and opened the mirrored cabinet—it housed some female toiletries that were scattered amongst the male grooming products—nothing more.

Reid went back to the master bedroom and opened the sliding glass doors to the first closet, it was sparse, save for a few items of female clothing, mostly size ten summer dresses. He thought he recognised one or two garments. He pulled them off the mahogany, wooden hangers and held them to his face, taking in their sweet aroma. He recognised the faint scent of her perfume, Chanel Number 5, the one she wore when they’d met. The question remained, where was she now? She couldn’t have just vanished into thin air that wasn’t part of the plan. It had to be down to Garrett. Maria just wouldn’t have run out on him like that.

He made his way along the landing and back down the stairs to the hallway. Faded blood spatter caught his attention. He took a closer look. The remnants had been scrubbed, a bodged attempt at a quick concealment. Reid considered whether or not to radio the station. But how would he explain his reason for being at the scene? He needed to validate his story. He was torn, self-preservation or Maria’s safety. He’d have to come clean; Maria’s life could be at stake. He wrestled with the idea that the blood could be innocent, the result of a cut to the hand or even a nosebleed, but his instinct screamed different.

His mind was made up; the house was a crime scene and needed a full team of SOCOs’ to decipher the clues. Reid turned to go, as the muzzle of the weapon pressed hard into his left cheek. That was the last he remembered.