Sweet Little Lies (Cat Kinsella #1)(15)

It feels like a lifetime before Parnell speaks again. ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ He looks to Steele. ‘Kinsella’s right about one thing though, people are as jumpy as hell. They’re either going away and leaving their houses empty, or they’ve got family visiting, and obviously neither’s ideal when there’s, and I quote, “a madman on the loose’’.’

Steele groans. ‘Magnificent. That’s all we need. I hope you warned the residents not to talk to reporters. If they get a sniff of a “madman”, they really will think it’s Christmas.’

A silence falls over the room. Just the white-noise drone of technology and Flowers’ stomach rumbling in low, melodic tones.

Steele breaks the lull with a weak laugh. ‘Look, I think we’re just about done here. The Feast needs feeding, don’t want him keeling over, do we?’

Flowers licks his lips in a way I think we’re supposed to find grotesquely erotic.

‘Usual drill,’ says Steele, voice raised. ‘DS Parnell and DS Flowers are your first ports of call, but my door is always open. Unless it’s closed, of course.’ She walks over to her discarded shoes, a pair of emerald suede courts that cost more than my rent. ‘So, final call. Anything else? Anyone?’ She turns on her heel, dropping a hand to Parnell’s arm as she passes. ‘Lu, be a love and sort out assignments. Kinsella, a word, my office.’

*

‘Now I know we’re in the age of “female empowerment” but I’ve got to tell you, Kinsella you look like shit warmed up.’ Steele gestures for me to sit down, picks up a lipstick and applies it perfectly without the aid of a mirror. ‘I mean it, you look awful. Washed-out. Although maybe it’s that top – yellow’s definitely not your colour.’ She pauses. ‘Did you buy it in a panic? I’d take it back if I were you.’

Her face is the very picture of authoritative benevolence, but it’s all in the voice.

She knows.

I don’t know how she knows, but she knows.

‘Good sleep?’ she adds with a pinched smile.

‘Oh, you know, on and off.’ I jerk a thumb towards the incident room. ‘Parnell’s not looking too rosy either.’

‘Parnell! Christ, it’d take more than a bit of beauty sleep to save Luigi Parnell. He’s a lost cause. There’s still hope for you.’

Harsh but fair. Unashamedly overweight and sometimes a little under-groomed, Parnell’s the kind of detective who makes you forget Sonny Crockett and Fox Mulder ever existed.

She drums her nails on the desk. Expertly manicured. I can never imagine her sitting still long enough to have them done. After a few seconds, she stops and leans forward. ‘Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. Are you absolutely sure you’re ready for this one?’

Be calm. Be rational. Stay classy, Kinsella.

‘Of course,’ I say, feigning cool surprise. ‘Why? Have I done something wrong?’

‘No.’ She lowers her head, mutters ‘for God’s sake’, then glances up again, trying to look like she doesn’t want to throttle me. ‘I just think it might be too soon after .?.?. well, you know.’

‘Alana-Jane. It’s OK, you can say her name. I won’t have a meltdown.’

‘I was thinking of the mother, actually.’

‘Dafina Tolaj. You can say her name too.’

She points the lipstick at me. ‘Listen you, I’m less bothered about her name and more bothered about the fact that she was another blonde, thirty-something woman covered in blood.’ She looks familiar somehow. ‘I think you can do without that again so soon, don’t you? Especially while you’re still seeing Dolores.’

Dolores, not Dr Allen. Visions of them dissecting me over a nice bottle of Merlot does them both a disservice, but I have a tendency to catastrophise when I’m cornered. Another counsellor told me that.

‘You don’t want me on the case, is that it?’

Full-volume. ‘For God’s sake, Kinsella, I’m not picking the netball team. You’re not the fat kid in PE so quit with the doe-eyes. I need everyone at the top of their game at the moment and I’m just not convinced you are.’

‘Based on what exactly?’ It sounds stroppy, confrontational. I mumble a quick ‘sorry’.

Steele shoots me an arch stare. ‘Based on the fact I saw you at the crime scene this morning. You never used to be that queasy.’

I try humour. ‘What can I say? We got pizza from Big Jimmy’s again last night.’ I rub my stomach. ‘Seriously, Boss, they should close that place down.’

She smiles and I sense a tiny victory. ‘Look, I’m not sure Dolores would advise you being involved, that’s all.’

‘Has she said something?’

‘No.’ Of course she has. ‘So how are the sessions going?’

‘Am I still batshit crazy, you mean?’

‘I mean are you finding them helpful?’

I could tell the truth but it’s easier and ultimately to my benefit to play along. ‘I am, surprisingly. I’m actually feeling pretty good. She’s pretty good. I definitely feel a lot calmer. And come on, be fair, no one’s at the top of their game at five a.m. Not even you.’

No reaction so I change tack. Less front, more fawning.