The next thing I know, I’m on the back seat of a police car, a blanket wrapped around me.
My eyelids are heavy, my head woozy following my faint. Or blackout. I’m not sure which, but it took me back to when I was with my dad in his underground hideaway – the overwhelming pressure in my head, the heaviness in my legs. The smell.
‘I need to be sick,’ I say, clawing at the car door. ‘Quick.’ The policeman scrambles out of the front and opens the door in time for me to vomit on the ground. Hot bile burns my throat. So many questions buzz around in my head, but I’m retching too much to ask a single one. The policeman, young, inexperienced by what I’ve gathered, politely averts his gaze while I continue to spit green liquid onto the gravel of the car park. He’s staying close, though, like he’s in charge of me. Am I under arrest? I’m in the back of a police vehicle following the discovery of Olivia Edwards’ body, and I’m a person of interest at the very least. I put my fingertips to my stinging eyelids, pressing hard to prevent the tears escaping. Is this nightmare ever going to end?
Wiping my mouth with the edge of the blanket, I sit back in the car.
‘Do you want some water?’ he asks, turning back now to face me.
‘Please,’ I rasp. He closes my door and returns to the driver’s seat, grabbing a bottle from the glove compartment.
‘Here you go.’ He hands it to me. ‘Must be a shock—’
‘A shock? I’d say. I really thought I might be in time …’ I sip the water, afraid too much will start me off being sick again.
‘What do you mean?’ he says, his brow furrowed.
‘I thought I’d worked it out in time to save her. Am I under arrest?’
He stares at me, his expression inscrutable. Frustration bubbles, but I don’t have the energy to press him further. If I don’t ask questions, I can put off the inevitable for longer. My head is heavy, and I let it loll against the window. As I do, I catch a flurry of movement. I sit bolt upright, all queasiness evaporating.
‘Is that … is that her?’ I stare, wide-eyed out the back window, where I see a waiting ambulance admitting a stretcher. Not a body bag. ‘But, I saw her. She was dead. Talia said …’
‘DS Davis thought the worst when she first approached the woman, but her fears were misplaced as it goes. You must’ve missed it. On account of your faint, like.’
‘Oh, thank God!’ I slump back against the leather interior and close my eyes. She’s alive. We did it. We found her. Sheer relief floods my body, making me feel weak. For a split second, a surge of hope wells inside me as I think things might now get back to normal. Then I remember. Nothing will be the same after all of this, even if Olivia has been found alive. The policeman’s voice breaks my thoughts as he tells me DS Davis is heading over.
Talia opens my door and ducks down.
‘How are you doing?’
‘Better, thanks. Now I know Olivia’s okay.’
‘She’s unconscious, though – so not fully out of the woods,’ Talia says, then rolls her eyes. ‘So to speak.’ I give a half-hearted smile, which fades instantly when I realise what that means. If Olivia’s been unable to tell police exactly what happened, then this still isn’t anywhere near over.
‘I really thought she was gone. Seeing her there like that, she looked just like …’ I stop myself from finishing the sentence and look up at Talia’s face. Her usual bright olive tone seems washed out, her eyes heavy. The dwindling adrenaline after such a rush no doubt having an effect.
‘You weren’t alone,’ she says.
My legs, and stomach, are stronger now and I get out of the car, leaving the blanket on the back seat. Talia tells me that it took almost all the crew to get Olivia out of the underground shelter and as I watch the paramedic slam the ambulance door, I can’t help but wonder how the perpetrator would’ve done it alone. If he was planning on killing Olivia down there, getting her dead body to the upper ground would surely be too difficult for one person. Yet, my dad did it. I suppose now, in this case, they were transporting a live woman and were concerned about her wellbeing, whereas my father didn’t have to worry about handling his victim safely. Whoever’s done this likely didn’t plan to worry about it either if the end result was supposed to be Olivia’s death.
I make my way across the car park, Talia close behind, and lean against the vet practice wall. We both follow the ambulance’s progression as it drives slowly out.
‘Odd, really, isn’t it?’ Talia pipes up.
‘Which bit?’
‘How you were suddenly able to find her, where all of us have failed,’ Talia says. She purses her lips, letting the words hang in the space between us. I should’ve guessed she’d be suspicious of how I found her. It does seem coincidental. But does she really think I’m the culprit after all? Perhaps she believes I thought Olivia was already dead, and that’s why I led her to the location. Talia eyes me cautiously. My mouth is dry again and I wish I’d brought the bottle of water with me. I don’t have the energy to explain it all, yet I know I must.
‘I followed my father’s lead,’ I say.
‘He’s in prison, Jenny. It’s not as though it’s him doing this, is it.’
‘No. But someone is copying his crimes. It’s what brought me here.’
Talia stares at me for a moment longer; I can sense her weighing me up. She’s contemplating whether I am the copycat. Until Olivia regains consciousness and can tell them exactly what happened, I’m not any better off than before. I’m still far from being off the suspect list. At least Olivia is alive, though. Her family will have her back. It’s the best outcome and given how things are going, it’s a damn lucky one.
‘Might be a good idea to keep this under wraps for now,’ Talia says. ‘I don’t want to go public yet. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share any of tonight’s developments with a soul. You understand? Leave telling the world – and more specifically, the copycat – that Olivia’s been found alive. We could use this information to our advantage.’
‘What makes you think this will draw him out? Maybe he was planning on leaving her there until she died and so he won’t come back here at all.’
‘That’s a possibility.’ Talia’s forehead creases, and almost to herself she says, ‘If they were trying to make sure you went down for this, they’re not likely to risk going back to the shelter I suppose.’ She places her hand on my arm, gently guiding me towards my bike. ‘Anyway, I’ll drop you home before I head to the hospital.’
‘No, it’s fine. I’ll cycle. I need my bike at my house, seeing as I have no car.’
‘Really? After all that’s happened tonight?’ Talia gives a wry smile. She’s still cautious. I imagine her detective mind is walking through all the possibilities in her head, not just the one where I’ve been framed.
‘It’s mostly downhill from here. And besides, it’ll give me time to attempt to make sense of everything.’
‘If you’re sure. You were kinda out of it back there in the shelter. Should you take the risk?’
‘I think we both know I’ll take the risk.’
She gives me a knowing look, but doesn’t say anything further. I watch her walk to her team, listen as she talks into her radio – informing someone of what’s happened. As I cycle past, I give a nod in her direction. I feels eyes on my back as I slowly pedal out of the car park. I also catch the word ‘surveillance’ and immediately jump to the conclusion I’m going to be watched.