Read Online The Truth Will Out by Jane Isaac - Free Book Online Page B

ten years. But there was something about Dean. Something that made her stomach flip, gave her a lust for life. Something that reminded her of how much she’d missed these past years.
    After four months, Helen plucked up the courage to introduce him to her boys. It was a Saturday afternoon, they went out for pizza and stopped to take a walk in the park on the way home. Dean won Matthew over almost instantly with his knowledge of gold medals in rowing in the last Olympics. Robert, initially reluctant, soon followed when Dean produced a ball from the boot of his car and they had an impromptu game of football in the park.
    A month later they all went away to Cornwall for a weekend together. Helen was walking on air. Nothing could burst her bubble. Until he left her after that holiday and headed home. That’s when she received the text message.
    Hi Honey, I’ll be home around seven. Can’t wait to see you. D XX
    A simple message in many respects, but a message that said so much. And in that split second her elation hit the floor.
    The following day, back at the station, Helen looked up an old friend she’d trained with at Bruche police training centre in Warrington. DS Celia Barren worked for the Nottingham force, just like Dean. She remembered the call as if it was yesterday. They spent a few minutes catching up, talking about Celia’s daughter and Helen’s boys.
    Finally, Helen asked her if she knew Dean.
    “Fitzpatrick? Of course I do. Everyone knows Dean. Why do you ask?”
    “Just interested.”
    “Interested?” Celia paused. “Oh, no, Helen, not that kind of interested?” Helen didn’t respond. “I can see why, but no chance there. He’s still very much married.”
    Even as she recalled the conversation Helen felt her heart drop all over again. “I heard they were separated?” she had asked.
    “Not as far as I know. He keeps it all private, but I do know they’re still cosied up in the same house together. They live in the next road to me.”
    That’s why I was never invited to Nottingham, she’d thought. So many times it was promised, and every time it fell through for whatever reason. Even now, she remembered the lump in her throat, the pain in her chest. How could she have been so stupid?
    She’d excused herself, ended the call as soon as politely possible and replied to his text message. Eight simple words, I think this was meant for your wife.
    What hurt Helen more than the lies and the deceit was that he was still with his wife, even now. Helen never wished to break up a marriage. But for the first time in ten years she had really let someone in. And she wasn’t interesting, attractive, clever or funny enough to keep them.
    When she didn’t return his calls, a barrage of text messages followed. Not wishing to be played for a fool twice, she’d forced herself to delete each and every one of them, unread. When he arrived on her doorstep a week later, she refused to see him. But closure hadn’t made the pain or humiliation less easy to bear.
    “Ma’am?” Spencer’s soft tone jolted Helen back to the present. Lost in her memories, she hadn’t heard her door open, seen his face appear around the edge. He held up an empty coffee mug.
    Helen managed a flat smile, shook her head and quickly told him about the autopsy. As he retreated she collected her bag and made her way out to the ladies room.
    Relieved to find it empty, she washed her hands and splashed water over her face. When she looked up into the mirror she hardly recognised herself. Her face was pale and washed out. Dark rings hung below her eyes. Helen searched through her handbag. At the bottom she found an old pot of blusher and applied a light covering, then smoothed her lank hair and tucked the stray strands behind her ears. She snatched another glance, sighed and turned to leave.
    Just as she turned down the corridor towards her office she spotted him. Her knees immediately weakened. He was standing there, military style, hands