Cold as Ice (Willis/Carter #2)(43)

‘One man was in the flat that night. He was white with brown hair. Danielle tried to make him leave but he wouldn’t go.’

‘Anything else?’

Jeanie looked at him accusingly, then she turned away, shaking her head.

‘Look, Jeanie – bottom line, I have faith in you but if it gets too much we can pull you off it. Just remember we’re a team. We’re all in this twenty-four seven till it’s over.’

She turned on him: ‘I can’t stay round here twenty-four seven. I have Christa to consider. I have a life beyond the job.’ She looked across at Carter who was watching her. The old affection they had once had for each other gave them an intimacy. He studied her profile. It was hard not to remember what she looked like lying next to him. His eyes went past her to the large snowflakes that had started to fall, drifting so slowly down to earth.

Her eyes searched his. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come back after I had Christa. It’s been an uphill struggle since then. Then I left myself open to the mistake that nearly cost me my life. It’s a year ago I was stabbed. Maybe I should have called it a day then.’

‘No, Jeanie. You were meant to work in this field. It’s not a job for you, it’s a vocation.’

She rolled her eyes and groaned. ‘Don’t give me that crap please.’

But he could see she knew what he was saying was right.

‘You have to juggle life.’ She didn’t answer but stared out at the snow. ‘Look,’ Carter continued. ‘I understand. I don’t want to lose you. Just be here in the day to talk to the boy and someone else can take over the evening shifts if she needs someone to stay the night. She probably won’t. How’s that?’

Jeanie sighed, rested her head back on the headrest. She closed her eyes, exasperated. ‘It’s bound to entail more than that. I’ll think about it. I have to talk to Peter.’

‘Peter knows it’s your job, Jeanie. He married a copper.’ Carter got out of the car. Jeanie caught him up. She was cross and she held him back by his arm.

‘Don’t be a tosser, Dan. Last year, almost to the day, I nearly bled to death on the job you say I was born to do – I nearly died doing it. There’s not a moment I don’t feel vulnerable. I have a hard job coping with the anxiety. You don’t understand what it’s like.’

He stopped and turned to face her.

‘I’m sorry . . . I do understand because I understand you. I know what you are capable of and how certain things are important to you. I know you can be very tough and still be your sweet, warm, loving, intuitive, wise-beyond-your-years, if not a little self-deprecating self.’

He could see a smile appearing – despite everything he’d managed to work his charm. He was pleased with himself as he turned and started walking towards the house.

She caught him up. ‘Smug bastard.’

‘We’ll get the phones fixed. Every call that comes into Tracy’s phone will go via us. Hello, Tracy.’ Carter stepped inside the house and Jeanie followed, closing the door behind her. ‘I hear you’ve had a phone call?’

She nodded: her eyes wide. Still reeling. ‘Is it Jackson’s dad?’ Tracy was whispering. Jackson was preoccupied with the new toys that Jeanie had brought over for him. Scruffy was lying beside him on the floor, in the corner of the lounge. Tracy had laid out a blanket for Jackson to keep his toys on.

‘No it isn’t him. He was in custody at the time of the call, Tracy.’

‘Who is it then? Who phoned me?’

‘Please, Tracy, keep calm. I know this is something you never imagined you’d have to cope with but you are coping with it,’ said Jeanie. She looked to Carter to continue.

‘We believe that the person who has taken your daughter was also responsible for the death of a friend of Danielle’s – a woman called Emily Styles. Do you know that name?’

‘She was the woman pulled out of the canal.’

‘Yes. She was.’ Tracy sat on the sofa, staring straight ahead. ‘What does he want with Danielle or me?’

Carter glanced at Jeanie. Tracy lifted her eyes. Jeanie shook her head.

‘I can’t answer that, Tracy. He didn’t contact Emily Styles’ family.’

‘Is he going to kill her?’

‘No,’ answered Carter. ‘Nothing is certain, Tracy. He kept Emily captive for months before he killed her. We still have time to find Danielle.

‘He knows who I am. Will he come here? What about Jackson?’

‘Someone can stay with you all the time. Or we can move you to a safe house but, for now, I’d rather you stay here because Jackson needs stability. It’s paramount we handle this right, this is now between you, your daughter and the person who has her.’ Jeanie reached out to try and reassure Tracy with a touch. Tracy had paled, her eyes wide. Jeanie sat beside her and placed her hand on her arm.

‘The phone call was distressing for you, I know, but it means she’s still alive and there’s hope.’

Tracy shook her head, uncertain. She was in a place of panic, fear, a trapped place that Jeanie often saw. It was her job to comfort and to guide families through the trauma of waiting for news about a missing child, of holding on to any hope, of facing facts in the new world they had been dropped into.