some sort of warped honesty in a punch. It’s over and done with. Emotional abuse is a mind game, and it’s amazing how even the strongest people can be manipulated over time. Amira changed. She became quiet, withdrawn, and lost contact with her friends. Meeting me for lunch or shopping became an ordeal. Invariably, she made some excuse and cancelled. In the end, I stopped asking. We used to be so close. I always thought we’d reconcile, but time caught up with us.”
“It always does,” said Faith.
“I’m having another whiskey,” said Layla, getting to her feet. “Can I get you ladies anything?”
“We’re fine, thank you,” said Faith. “We should head back to the Station. I’d like to get on the motorway before rush hour.”
“I understand. Please keep me informed of any developments, Detective.” Layla walked them to the door.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be in touch,” said Faith, “and it’s Detective Chief Inspector, actually.”
15
“What do you think of Layla al-Nin?” asked Faith, as she and Byrne headed back to the car.
“I don’t like her,” replied Byrne without hesitation, “and I certainly don’t trust her. She’s a bit too arrogant for my liking.”
“But it was interesting what she said about Daniel and Amira’s relationship,” said Faith. “I want you to check if there were any reports of domestic violence. Talk to their friends, see what they have to say.”
“Will do,” said Byrne, making a note in her phone. “Fancy coming for a drink with us? Plunkett just text to say that a few of the team are heading to the pub after work.”
“I’m wrecked,” said Faith. “Thanks for the offer. Maybe next time. I fancy an early night.”
“I suppose I’ll just have to have one for you.” Byrne smiled as they pulled up outside the pub.
“Don’t get carried away,” said Faith. “I need you lot back at the Station bright and early.”
“Yes, boss.” Byrne saluted and slammed the door behind her.
“See you at eight sharp,” Faith called out the window as she drove past.
“It might be ten past.” Byrne grinned.
Faith waved and took the mountain road home. The sun was setting in the distance and the sky was ablaze with varying shades of crimson and cerulean. She let out a long, low sigh, already looking forward to a cup of tea and a bubble bath.
Faith stopped by Angela’s house on her way home. She needed to see a friendly face.
“How are ya girl? Come in, come in.”
Faith smiled at her friend’s warm greeting. She always looked so happy to see her.
The delicious aroma of fresh-baked scones made her mouth water as she pulled up a chair at the kitchen table. Angela’s house was warm and welcoming.
“You’re turning into a real domestic goddess, aren’t you?” teased Faith.
“Someone’s got to give Nigella Lawson a run for her money.” Angela winked. “Help yourself.” She put a plate of buttery scones on the table beside a jar of homemade jam and a pot of whipped cream.
Angela’s easy-going charm and natural ability to entertain made her a pleasure to spend time with, and not for the first time, Faith was grateful to be part of her life. “You spoil me,” said Faith, in between mouthfuls.
“Someone has to.” Angela watched her friend. She knew something was troubling her, but she didn’t like to ask.
***
Faith pulled up outside her house and climbed out of the Jeep, savouring the autumnal air. She closed her eyes and listened to the chatter of the birds and the lake lapping against the shore at the end of the garden. Not for the first time, she said a silent prayer of thanks to her grandmother and the sanctuary she had provided the lost little girl all those years ago. Thoughts of her parents and brother ebbed at the edge of her mind, but she refused to think about them today. “It’s not my fault,” she whispered the mantra that Dr Crowley had taught her. She shook her head and went inside.
Faith kicked off her boots and
“It always does,” said Faith.
“I’m having another whiskey,” said Layla, getting to her feet. “Can I get you ladies anything?”
“We’re fine, thank you,” said Faith. “We should head back to the Station. I’d like to get on the motorway before rush hour.”
“I understand. Please keep me informed of any developments, Detective.” Layla walked them to the door.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be in touch,” said Faith, “and it’s Detective Chief Inspector, actually.”
15
“What do you think of Layla al-Nin?” asked Faith, as she and Byrne headed back to the car.
“I don’t like her,” replied Byrne without hesitation, “and I certainly don’t trust her. She’s a bit too arrogant for my liking.”
“But it was interesting what she said about Daniel and Amira’s relationship,” said Faith. “I want you to check if there were any reports of domestic violence. Talk to their friends, see what they have to say.”
“Will do,” said Byrne, making a note in her phone. “Fancy coming for a drink with us? Plunkett just text to say that a few of the team are heading to the pub after work.”
“I’m wrecked,” said Faith. “Thanks for the offer. Maybe next time. I fancy an early night.”
“I suppose I’ll just have to have one for you.” Byrne smiled as they pulled up outside the pub.
“Don’t get carried away,” said Faith. “I need you lot back at the Station bright and early.”
“Yes, boss.” Byrne saluted and slammed the door behind her.
“See you at eight sharp,” Faith called out the window as she drove past.
“It might be ten past.” Byrne grinned.
Faith waved and took the mountain road home. The sun was setting in the distance and the sky was ablaze with varying shades of crimson and cerulean. She let out a long, low sigh, already looking forward to a cup of tea and a bubble bath.
Faith stopped by Angela’s house on her way home. She needed to see a friendly face.
“How are ya girl? Come in, come in.”
Faith smiled at her friend’s warm greeting. She always looked so happy to see her.
The delicious aroma of fresh-baked scones made her mouth water as she pulled up a chair at the kitchen table. Angela’s house was warm and welcoming.
“You’re turning into a real domestic goddess, aren’t you?” teased Faith.
“Someone’s got to give Nigella Lawson a run for her money.” Angela winked. “Help yourself.” She put a plate of buttery scones on the table beside a jar of homemade jam and a pot of whipped cream.
Angela’s easy-going charm and natural ability to entertain made her a pleasure to spend time with, and not for the first time, Faith was grateful to be part of her life. “You spoil me,” said Faith, in between mouthfuls.
“Someone has to.” Angela watched her friend. She knew something was troubling her, but she didn’t like to ask.
***
Faith pulled up outside her house and climbed out of the Jeep, savouring the autumnal air. She closed her eyes and listened to the chatter of the birds and the lake lapping against the shore at the end of the garden. Not for the first time, she said a silent prayer of thanks to her grandmother and the sanctuary she had provided the lost little girl all those years ago. Thoughts of her parents and brother ebbed at the edge of her mind, but she refused to think about them today. “It’s not my fault,” she whispered the mantra that Dr Crowley had taught her. She shook her head and went inside.
Faith kicked off her boots and
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