going. I told her that I was going to speak to him and I heard her release a breath.
‘You are?’
‘Don’t worry.’ I squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll find out, OK?’
‘Thank you.’ She pulled me into a hug. I could feel her trembling and when I smelled her sweet, pink perfume, I hugged her tighter. When she let go, she wiped her cheeks with the heels of her palms. ‘You won’t tell him my name, will you? I don’t want my father to find out. He’ll blame himself. He saves me from everything.’
‘Of course I won’t. Now go inside. I’ll text you when I’ve spoken to him.’
‘Thank you, Adamma.’
‘I have my one-to-one with Madame Girard, so I need you to cover for me, OK?’ She nodded. ‘Tell her that I can’t make it because someone tried to break into my car last night and I’m in the car park getting it towed.’
She nodded, but she looked so scared that I hugged her again.
I waited for DS Bone on the hood of his car, a battered green thing I’d nicknamed Kermit. I’d almost finished reading my newspaper when finally I saw him walking through the car park, his white shirt too bright in the sunlight, like something from a commercial for laundry detergent. I haven’t seen him since February, but he looked the same, tall and lean, though his cake-batter-coloured hair was shorter and noticeably lighter than the moustache/beard combo he was experimenting with, no doubt in an attempt to look older. It wasn’t working. But at least he hadn’t surrendered to the cheap suits police detectives seem to insist on wearing and was in jeans and a pair of aviator sunglasses that were too nice to be chasing criminals in.
He didn’t see me, he was too distracted as he undid the top button on his shirt and loosened his tie, so when I jumped down from the hood of his car, he stepped back.
‘Hey, Bones,’ I said with a grin.
‘Adamma,’ he said, hands on his hips, the corners of his mouth twitching.
‘How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ he said warily. ‘You?’
‘I’m good. How funny! Bumping into you here.’
‘I know, how funny , bumping into me, here, by my car.’ I saw the top of his eyebrow spring up over his sunglasses. ‘What do you want, Adamma?’
‘Why so suspicious, Bones? I’m just saying hello.’
‘OK. Hello, Adamma,’ he said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out his keys. He opened the car door, then said, ‘Goodbye, Adamma.’
‘So why are you here?’
He stopped, fingers curled over the top of the open car door. ‘There it is.’
‘Come on, Bones.’ I winked theatrically at him. ‘You can tell me.’
The corners of his mouth twitched again. ‘You know I can’t.’
‘Please, Bones,’ I said as he started to get into the car. ‘My friend, the one I told you about, is worried sick. She thinks you’re here to talk to her.’
He stopped, then turned to face me again. ‘Tell her not to worry.’
‘So you’re not here about that?’
My heart thumped suddenly, but I tried to ignore it.
‘No.’
‘You’re here about Scarlett, aren’t you?’ I blurted out when he turned back to his car.
‘The case has been passed on to me, yes.’ I wanted him to take his sunglasses off, even though I didn’t know what would be more unnerving: being able to see his eyes or not.
‘I thought you were CID?’ I said, trying not to give into the panic punching at me. ‘Why has the case been passed on to you? Why? She ran away.’
‘Look, don’t panic, OK—’ he started to say, but I didn’t let him finish.
‘What’s this got to do with CID? She hasn’t even been gone a day.’
‘Actually, she has; she left this time yesterday.’
‘Yeah. But . . .’ I breathed, but he interrupted me this time.
‘CID being called in doesn’t mean anything, OK?’ He held up a hand. ‘We’re just being careful. If her family didn’t own half of Ostley, no one would give a shit.’
‘You weren’t called in last time.’
‘I have to get back
‘You are?’
‘Don’t worry.’ I squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll find out, OK?’
‘Thank you.’ She pulled me into a hug. I could feel her trembling and when I smelled her sweet, pink perfume, I hugged her tighter. When she let go, she wiped her cheeks with the heels of her palms. ‘You won’t tell him my name, will you? I don’t want my father to find out. He’ll blame himself. He saves me from everything.’
‘Of course I won’t. Now go inside. I’ll text you when I’ve spoken to him.’
‘Thank you, Adamma.’
‘I have my one-to-one with Madame Girard, so I need you to cover for me, OK?’ She nodded. ‘Tell her that I can’t make it because someone tried to break into my car last night and I’m in the car park getting it towed.’
She nodded, but she looked so scared that I hugged her again.
I waited for DS Bone on the hood of his car, a battered green thing I’d nicknamed Kermit. I’d almost finished reading my newspaper when finally I saw him walking through the car park, his white shirt too bright in the sunlight, like something from a commercial for laundry detergent. I haven’t seen him since February, but he looked the same, tall and lean, though his cake-batter-coloured hair was shorter and noticeably lighter than the moustache/beard combo he was experimenting with, no doubt in an attempt to look older. It wasn’t working. But at least he hadn’t surrendered to the cheap suits police detectives seem to insist on wearing and was in jeans and a pair of aviator sunglasses that were too nice to be chasing criminals in.
He didn’t see me, he was too distracted as he undid the top button on his shirt and loosened his tie, so when I jumped down from the hood of his car, he stepped back.
‘Hey, Bones,’ I said with a grin.
‘Adamma,’ he said, hands on his hips, the corners of his mouth twitching.
‘How’s it going?’
‘Good,’ he said warily. ‘You?’
‘I’m good. How funny! Bumping into you here.’
‘I know, how funny , bumping into me, here, by my car.’ I saw the top of his eyebrow spring up over his sunglasses. ‘What do you want, Adamma?’
‘Why so suspicious, Bones? I’m just saying hello.’
‘OK. Hello, Adamma,’ he said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out his keys. He opened the car door, then said, ‘Goodbye, Adamma.’
‘So why are you here?’
He stopped, fingers curled over the top of the open car door. ‘There it is.’
‘Come on, Bones.’ I winked theatrically at him. ‘You can tell me.’
The corners of his mouth twitched again. ‘You know I can’t.’
‘Please, Bones,’ I said as he started to get into the car. ‘My friend, the one I told you about, is worried sick. She thinks you’re here to talk to her.’
He stopped, then turned to face me again. ‘Tell her not to worry.’
‘So you’re not here about that?’
My heart thumped suddenly, but I tried to ignore it.
‘No.’
‘You’re here about Scarlett, aren’t you?’ I blurted out when he turned back to his car.
‘The case has been passed on to me, yes.’ I wanted him to take his sunglasses off, even though I didn’t know what would be more unnerving: being able to see his eyes or not.
‘I thought you were CID?’ I said, trying not to give into the panic punching at me. ‘Why has the case been passed on to you? Why? She ran away.’
‘Look, don’t panic, OK—’ he started to say, but I didn’t let him finish.
‘What’s this got to do with CID? She hasn’t even been gone a day.’
‘Actually, she has; she left this time yesterday.’
‘Yeah. But . . .’ I breathed, but he interrupted me this time.
‘CID being called in doesn’t mean anything, OK?’ He held up a hand. ‘We’re just being careful. If her family didn’t own half of Ostley, no one would give a shit.’
‘You weren’t called in last time.’
‘I have to get back
Similar Books
