Read Online The Lost Girl (Brennan and Esposito) by Tania Carver - Free Book Online Page B

happier doing something else. But then she also wondered if Phil would have thought he’d be letting the memory of his adoptive father down. That was why she believed he had joined the force. Not that he had ever said as much. Not even to her.
    She put those thoughts from her mind, concentrated once more on the task at hand.
    Essex University in Colchester was next. Then secondment with the police while she was a PhD student. The murders. Then her demise. Marina didn’t need to read about that again.
    Marina sat back. Looked at the screen once more, at her notes.
    Children’s homes. Foster homes. Something to go on. She knew – or strongly suspected – that Cotter had given her this job just to give her something to do, to feel like she was contributing in some way. Keep her from worrying.
    Marina hoped that wasn’t true. She wasn’t a frontline detective but she had skills that could catch this woman, could find her husband, skills that most police officers often didn’t possess.
    She kept staring at the notes. Yes, Cotter would follow it up. But no matter how urgent the job of finding Phil was, she would be hidebound by procedure and protocol. And every second counted. But Marina had no procedure or protocol to follow. Nothing to stop her from investigating this herself.
    She smiled. And she knew just the person to ask to help her.

13
     
    ‘G et your bags packed,’ Cotter had said, ‘you’re off to Colchester.’ That was how Imani found herself on the A14 driving as fast as she could, ready to hopefully make some headway in the hunt for her missing DI.
    She had gone straight back to Steelhouse Lane after phoning Cotter. Passed on the neighbour’s information to the DCI.
    ‘So he did leave,’ said Cotter. ‘We have to assume as much. And we can’t get in touch with him.’
    ‘And the description matches the one Colchester gave us for DS Beresford,’ said Imani. ‘Even the car fits. This isn’t random. Definitely. There’s some planning been put into this.’
    Cotter nodded, thought. ‘I’ll get Sperring and Khan looking into it from this end. Get Elli to check CCTV in the area, uniforms to get out looking for a Vauxhall Insignia. Perhaps he’s even matched the number plate.’
    ‘It seems likely,’ said Cotter. ‘Or something similar. Muddying the water, perhaps?’
    ‘Could be. Sending us on a wild goose chase.’
     
    The drive was largely uneventful. The road was single track in parts and although Imani became frustrated when she got stuck behind someone who didn’t share her sense of urgency she refrained from using the lights and siren of her unmarked. The slower pace actually helped her, forced her to take in the surroundings, look for any signs that Phil hadn’t arrived at Colchester, had taken a detour somewhere along this road. She sighed. That could be anywhere.
    She looked at her hands on the wheel. Her knuckles. Steady. No shaking. She hadn’t been back on frontline duties for long. A remarkable recovery, the psychologist said, considering what she had been through. Nearly nine months ago now. But it was still hard to forget. Watching a colleague being killed in front of her, a colleague who perhaps could have become more than a friend, was one thing. Being tasered, kidnapped and imprisoned by a murderer who planned on killing her slowly and making her suffer purely because she was a woman who had bested him was something else entirely. Something she wouldn’t – couldn’t, didn’t – forget easily.
    If it hadn’t been for the support shown to her by her colleagues and family she didn’t know what would have become of her. Especially Marina. She had worked hard to bring her back to some semblance of normal. Hours of ranting, screaming, sobbing, holding. And eventually a small chink of light through her darkness, a light that expanded and grew until she felt confident – safe – enough to walk in it. Marina was brilliant. She understood what Imani had gone through. After