CLOVER
Monday, February 7th (Present)
I woke up early. The sun was still working its way over the horizon. My mind immediately flitted to the search for my Lily. Yawning and rubbing my eyes, I forced myself to get out of bed. I had to go to work. I had to keep it up. No one could suspect a thing. My whole family was on the line, and I had to continue my normal routine to protect us.
Looking in the mirror, I tried to recognize the man I was when Mother was alive. I wasn’t as strong, but I wanted to be. I tried to be. I didn’t want to let her down. I could make the world that little bit better while making my world a happy one. A nagging voice at the back of my head still chanted “Failure,” and I knew I would never stop until I had succeeded. I will prove her wrong and make her proud.
I showered, washing myself thoroughly—twice—and dressed in black trousers, a blue shirt, and blue tie. I didn’t look in the mirror again. All I saw now was a shadow of a man, barely holding on. You don’t need her; you can do this alone. I did need her, though, but I didn’t want to.
Growling in frustration, I slammed my bathroom door shut and went down to the girls. I needed to see them, to see how much they needed me, how they appreciated our family and me.
“Good morning, Flowers,” I said and walked down the stairs. The room was filled with the heavenly scent of toasted hot cross buns.
“Morning, Clover,” they replied in unison. Lily looked to the floor. Her shyness was both attractive and endearing. I did have hope for her coming out of her shell a little more, though. There really was no need for her to be so shy when she was among family.
I sat down and a plate of warm buns smothered in melting butter was placed before me. “Thank you, Lily.”
She smiled and muttered, “You’re welcome.” There was something sad about her. The smiles she offered never quite reached her eyes. “Are you not feeling well, Lily?”
“I’m fine,” she replied and sat down. Somehow I didn’t believe her. She was the type of young woman that didn’t complain at every ailment. I respected that. She was strong.
“So, what do you have planned today?” I asked them and took a large bite of the hot cross bun, closing my eyes at the comforting taste of the warm bun.
Rose smiled and it lit up her beautiful blue eyes. “We’re going to do some knitting. We haven’t done any in a while. Which reminds me, do you think you’ll be able to pick us up some more wool? We’re getting a little low.”
“Of course, I’ll get some after work.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
I took her hand over the table and gave it a squeeze. “You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure.” Rose’s blue eyes danced with happiness. My heart constricted. Every touch from her meant so much to me—much more than anyone else’s. I wished I could go back in time and handle our meeting better.
“How is work?” she asked.
“Boring but fine.”
Work wasn’t the problem. The fact that everyone now knows about the bodies is what concerned me. It was only a matter of time before the police would want to talk to Christy’s colleagues—which I was one of. If she hadn’t been such a disgusting whore, none of it would have happened. She deserved it.
Finishing my last bite, I stood up, not wanting to put off the inevitable any longer. The girls hadn’t finished, and I knew I was being rude by leaving, but this was too important. “Forgive me for not staying, but I have something I need to tend to. Thank you for breakfast.”
“Okay,” Rose said. “We’ll see you tonight. Have a good day.”
I gave her a nod and smiled. “You too. Thank you.”
***
I arrived at work and walked straight to my office. “Morning, Colin. Would you like a coffee?” Jemma asked as she pushed my door open.
“Good morning, Jemma. That would be lovely, thank you.”
She left the room, and I turned on my computer. There were so many folders in my tray. What now? I thought and flipped the first one open.
When are they coming? I looked out of my window to the parking lot. Nothing. I tried to concentrate on work, but I couldn’t. My foot tapped the floor of its own accord and everything outside caught my attention—birds, a cat, cars, people, anything.
Jemma came back with a cup of coffee and placed it on my coaster. “Terrible about Christy, isn’t it? I can’t believe anyone would hurt her.”
“Thank you. Yes, it is. She was such a bright young woman.” Who made disgusting choices. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “In shock. I just can’t believe it. So many women in the canal too. It’s scary.”
“You just make sure you’re safe.”
She nodded. “Oh, I will be. My boyfriend is picking me up now. I don’t feel safe walking anywhere while a killer is on the loose.” I blinked in shock and Jemma walked out of my office. Killer. That wasn’t what I was. There is a huge problem out there, and I act accordingly. Did people just think of me as a killer?
A knock on my door pulled me back. Sarah, the receptionist, pushed the door open. “Mr. Brown, the police are in reception. They’d like to speak to everyone, starting at management level. Can I show them in?”
My heart raced. I hadn’t seen a police car. Glancing out the window, I saw none. Front of the building perhaps. “Of course, Sarah. Please show them through.” She nodded her head and retreated back out of my office. I took a deep breath to mentally prepare myself and then straightened the papers on my desk.
A minute or two later, two police officers entered my office and Sarah closed the door behind them. “Good morning. Please sit,” I said, gesturing toward the two chairs against the wall.
“Thank you. We won’t keep you long; we just have a few standard questions to ask.”
I nodded. “Anything I can do to help.” One of them, the female officer, flipped open a notepad and clicked the top of her pen.
“Thank you. I’m Detective Inspector Brook and this is DI McKinney,” the man, Brook, said.
“Christy was a lovely woman, always willing to help—never turned you down if you needed a chat. It’s such shame she got herself tied up in that awful mess.”
“Mess?” the male officer asked. “What mess was that?”
“Oh, I assumed you would know by now. Christy and Greg Hart, also an employee here, were having an affair.” They both looked up and the woman quickly scribbled something down on her pad. Good girl.
“Do you know how long this was going on for?”
I shook my head. “No, I only found out recently, when I heard them argue in his office.”
“What were they arguing about?”
“I didn’t catch it all, but Christy was saying she wanted their relationship to be exclusive. I guess she wanted him to leave his wife. Mr. Hart’s wife is pregnant. I assumed Greg had come to his senses and decided to make things work with his family.”
“And what did Mr. Hart want from Christy?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, I can’t speak for him, but it didn’t sound like he wanted the same. He told her he didn’t want a relationship with her. Like I said, I got the impression he’d realized he’d made a mistake having an affair. You don’t think Greg had something to do with this? He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Come on. Come on.
“When was the last time you saw Christy?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“At work, she left slightly early. It was about four forty-five, I think. When she didn’t turn up the next morning, I assumed she was just ill.”
“And no one heard from her? She didn’t call in sick?”
“I can’t say. I don’t take those calls. You’ll have to speak to someone from HR for that—Jessica Peterson.”
He nodded and McKinney wrote something else down. “Have you ever heard Mr. Hart mention any other women?”
I smiled. Their line of questioning was focused on Greg. “Not to me. He did mention going out to dinner regularly. I assumed his wife wasn’t a good cook.” Brook smiled.
They continued their questions; most were about Greg, trying to find out what kind of a person he was and his relationship with others—particularly with women. When asked where I was, they were satisfied with my “at home watching Ocean’s Eleven” answer. They would look into it, of course, but I knew the movie was on at the time Christy died. “Well, I think that’s all for now, Mr. Brown. Here’s my card if you think of anything else.” He handed me his card as the stood up. “Thank you for your time.”
I took the card and smiled at them both. “Absolutely.” That was almost too easy.