Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(67)

The cut from the night before was obscured by his eyebrow and these folks were used to his occasional war wounds from the pitch. They were becoming more frequent with time.

‘Idiots,’ he whispered to himself as he wandered through the general office to the squad room.

A few chuckles followed him and then he saw why.

The door to the squad room was closed and hazard tape had been pulled across in the shape of an X.

‘What the?…’ he said, reading the sign.

NO ENTRY DO NOT OPEN





Great, just what he needed. Some idiot playing practical jokes was not going to start this day well.

‘Who did this?’ he asked, as everyone looked away and returned to their business.

He shook his head and ripped at the hazard tape.

‘Can’t read, Bryant?’ said a deep voice from behind.

He turned to find Woody frowning at him.

‘Sir, some dickhead’s been putting stupid signs on—’

‘I’m the dickhead that put the sign on the door, Bryant, and with very good reason.’

Great, he’d just called the boss a dickhead.

‘Sir?’

‘Fleas, Sergeant. The office appears to be infested. Went in last night for a copy statement and got bit to death around the ankles.’

Bryant was confused. They’d all been in there yesterday with no issue.

‘But?…’

‘You can’t work in there until the fumigators have been out.’

‘So where the hell?…’

‘You’re a big boy, Bryant. You’re in charge for now, so providing you follow procedure and maintain efficiency, where you choose to run the investigation is your concern not mine,’ he said, before turning away.

Bryant hid his smile. He knew he wasn’t the fastest car in the race but he always managed to get there in the end.





Eighty-Five





Kim tipped the fourth cup of coffee down the sink and switched off the pot. Each sip was now sending a jolt of electricity through her veins and wiring her emotions.

Jesus, she was angry at so many things, and even offering herself balanced rational answers was not helping.

She was pissed at Woody for taking her off the case but could understand his position. She was mad at Bryant for taking over her role, but unsure what else she expected him to do. She was raging at Ted for not agreeing with her but accepted she went to him for an honest point of view.

And yet the one thing she couldn’t resolve in her head was that not one member of her team had called or texted to see if she was okay.

Obviously there had been the twenty text messages from Bryant the night before, but they didn’t count, and what about the rest of the team this morning? They’d arrived at work to be told she was off the case yet not one message.

She hopped off the bar stool and wandered towards the door that led into the garage, for the third time. Barney was right beside her, looking up questioningly.

‘Yeah, I know, boy,’ she said. ‘I’m doing my own head in too.’

Normally, with any spare time she was straight into the garage, iPod on full, being soothed by Brahms or Beethoven as she worked on her current restoration project, but not today. This wasn’t spare time. Today she’d been displaced. She wasn’t supposed to be on a day off. Her brain was in work mode and she couldn’t switch it off.

She sighed and took out her phone as Barney headed back to the sofa.

No calls, no messages, no consideration for—

Her self-pitying thoughts were disturbed by a banging on the front door.

Oh, go on, she thought, someone just try and sell me double glazing today. I dare you.

She threw open the door to find a grinning Bryant before her.

‘What the?…’

‘Yeah, we’re commandeering your home as our temporary headquarters,’ he said. ‘Now get out the way, this stuff is heavy,’ he said, barging past with cases of equipment.

‘Hey, boss,’ Stacey said, entering her home.

‘We have fleas,’ Penn said, crossing the threshold.

‘You have?…’

‘Excuse me,’ said Alison, bringing in another case.

‘You as well?’ she asked, as her living room became overcrowded.

‘I’m attached to the team, so, wherever they go, I go,’ she said, edging cautiously around the dog.

‘Okay, so how are we gonna do this?’ Bryant asked, standing with the rest of her team in the middle of the room.

For some inexplicable reason the emotion gathered in her throat.

She pushed it away.

‘Hey, don’t go getting comfortable. Not, until you’ve told me more about these fleas.’





Eighty-Six





By 9 a.m. Bryant had found the extra leaves and opened up the dining table that had never been used. Who knew it expanded like that? She’d noticed the cut above his eye and guessed he’d been on the rugby field the night before but he didn’t much like being reminded that he wasn’t as fit as he used to be.

‘So, Woody shut down the office?’ she asked, curiously.

Bryant nodded. ‘Yep, and told me to find somewhere to camp out for the day.’