The Infirmary (DCI Ryan Mysteries prequel)(31)

Every step they took brought them closer, and the greater his understanding, the more likely it was that Ryan would recognise him when the time came. That wasn’t policing. It was pure instinct.

Just like the instinct warning him that he was not alone.

Quietly, Ryan set down his briefcase and reached across for a heavy ornamental bowl sitting on the console table in his hallway. He moved softly across the wooden floor and almost swore when one of the boards creaked.

He froze, listening for any sound of movement behind his living room door and, beyond it, the bedrooms.

Nothing.

But he knew he was not alone. His body was on high alert as he prepared to defend himself.

He stepped into the living room and came to a halt as the scene unfolded.

Long, tanned legs stretched out on his sofa in striped pyjama shorts. The woman they belonged to was fast asleep and snuggled into one of his sports sweaters with a faded tick on the front. Her face was bare of make-up and her long hair was still wet at the ends from the shower. She had the face of an angel and was even more beautiful in repose.

Ryan let the air in and out of his lungs in one long breath and set the bowl back on the table before walking across to sit on the coffee table beside her.

“Natalie?”

She stirred, then rolled over.

Ryan let out a short laugh and wondered if her timing could possibly be any worse. It was neither safe nor convenient for his sister to be there, but it seemed the decision had been taken out of his hands. That would teach him in future not to go handing out keys, willy-nilly.

His mother was behind it somewhere, he was sure of it. She’d been making noises recently about him spending too much time alone and not seeing enough of his family. He’d tried telling her that he was caught up in a murder investigation, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

“Come on, sleepy-head,” he said, unconsciously echoing a killer. “Time for bed.”

“Mm.”

“I see you helped yourself,” he muttered, eyeing the carnage she’d left in his kitchen with long-suffering acceptance. “When did you arrive?”

“Couple of hours ago,” she yawned, leaning against him comfortably as he led her through to the spare bedroom. “You’ve run out of milk. And chocolate.”

“I don’t keep a ready supply in my chocolate cupboard,” he replied.

“That’s why you’re so grumpy all the time.”

He moved across to switch on the bedside lamp and ran an awkward hand through his hair.

“Natalie, look. You know, it’s great to see you but now is a really bad time. There’s a lot going on—”

“You always have a lot going on,” she pointed out, and settled herself under the covers. “You need to relax more.”

“Not right now,” he said. “I’m in the middle of a major murder investigation. I can’t have any distractions.”

“I get that,” she said, yawning widely. “But I’ve been given strict instructions to make sure you eat properly and get a bit of sleep. Oh, and I’m supposed to make you laugh, if I can.”

“Mother.”

“Yes, Mother,” she replied. “Otherwise known as, She Who Must Be Obeyed.”

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he said. His eyes were so tired he could hardly see, let alone think straight.

“You’ll hardly know I’m here,” Natalie said, with an imperious wave of her hand.

“Right. Like a hole in the head.”

“Switch the light off, will you?”

“I live to serve.”





CHAPTER 12


Tuesday 8th July

A new day dawned dull and misty, curling its way in from the sea in thick white clouds so the river was barely visible. Ryan watched the city awaken as he polished off a piece of toast and warred with himself over what to do with Natalie.

His sister was almost ten years younger than him and most of their childhood had been spent apart at separate boarding schools. He loved his parents, respected them, but would make a different choice when the time came to educate his own children.

If the time ever came, he corrected.

At present, his work was all-consuming. Even if he did find somebody patient enough to put up with the antisocial hours his work dictated, how could he expect them to share the burden of what he carried home each night? When you saw first-hand the violence that one person could do to another, it was hard to shrug it off and speak of other things.

It was easier to remain alone.

“You look thoughtful.”

He turned to see Natalie enter the lounge area, rumpled from sleep.

“I am. I was thinking you should go back home today. I can’t look after you,” he said, as gently as he could.

“I don’t need you to look after me,” she said, testily. “As it happens, I’m between jobs so I came here to look after you, for a change.”

He didn’t know what to say.

“Thanks, but I don’t need anything.”

“Bollocks,” she said, heading across to switch the kettle on. “You need a shave, for a start. There’s designer stubble and then there’s whatever you’ve got on your chin.”

Ryan raised a hand to his face and found it alarmingly bristled.