The Running Girls(48)
“She hasn’t spoken to him since. Never will now, will she?”
“How did Glen take it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was he sad? Angry?”
“Glen is not great at emotion. Truth is, we haven’t seen that much of him these last few months. Very busy at work, you understand,” she said, with cutting sarcasm.
“And Grace? Tilly thinks Grace only got together with her because she was on the rebound.”
“Tilly’s a sweet little thing. I don’t know if that’s true or not. Fact is, Grace and I weren’t on great speaking terms, either, after Glen left. I think a part of her blamed me. And you know what, that part was right. I should have kicked that man out long ago. He is poison, and he destroyed my daughter’s last few months on this Earth.”
Laurie paused, preparing for the question she’d wanted to ask since arriving. “I’m sorry that I have to ask you this, but I’m afraid I have no option,” she said.
Sandra frowned, smudges of mascara breaking out on the side of her eyes. “Ask me what?”
“Do you think Glen ever tried anything with Grace?”
This time, there was no pause for reaction. Sandra’s face contorted into a mask of rage. “Of course not,” she said, heaving herself to her feet. “What the hell is this? You think Glen and . . . and . . .”
Laurie slowly got to her feet. Even in her shoes, she was a few inches shorter than the barefooted Sandra and was forced to look up at the woman. “I know it’s an awful thing to think about, but please, Sandra. For Grace’s sake.”
Just like that, the anger drained from Sandra, and she fell back into the sofa. Laurie remained standing, this time looking down on the woman, who looked beaten and worn out.
“You think Glen may have killed her?” Sandra’s voice was ragged, empty, the true horror of that potential truth beginning to resonate.
“It’s something we have to explore. It would help if we could speak to him.”
“I can’t believe he would sink this low, though I said the same thing when I found out about Mia. I don’t know where he is, I truly don’t. I didn’t think Tilly knew about the situation between them. I’ve been sleeping and . . .”
Gemma walked over and handed Laurie her phone. “Station has been trying to reach you.”
Laurie took the phone. “Detective Campbell.”
“Laurie, it’s Rodriquez. I thought you’d want to know first. Been a bit of trouble in a bar on 23rd Street. A couple of arrests. I’m afraid we have Warren in custody.”
“Is he OK?”
“Yeah. Evidently someone said something about Annie and he took it the wrong way. Busted the guy up pretty good.”
“OK. Let him sleep it off, and I’ll come and get him soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Laurie tried Glen’s phone again before leaving for the station. Leaving Gemma Clayton with Sandra, she told the officer to keep gently nudging the grieving mother. It seemed obvious to Laurie that Sandra was stuck in an abusive relationship. And even if the extent of the situation was beginning to dawn on Sandra, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t protect her husband, consciously or not. It was highly likely that Sandra knew where Glen was at that moment, and for everyone’s sake they needed to find the man before he disappeared for good.
Laurie skimmed ahead through Grace’s diary, alighting on the last entry, where she’d caught her dad and Mia together. That had been six months ago, and the diary hadn’t been touched since. She tried to imagine what that would have done to Grace, but found it impossible to comprehend. Placing the diary in an evidence bag, she forced herself to listen to local radio as she made the short journey to the station, the wind rocking her car side to side as the waterline crept ominously toward the seawall. A category 4 hurricane, cutely named Heather by the National Hurricane Center, had briefly made landfall in Cuba and was now bearing down on the Gulf of Mexico. It appeared to be heading toward the coast of Texas, but no one could guess if it would make landfall or lose power over the gulf. Some islanders weren’t taking any chances and had already begun leaving the island city, fearing the chaos of a last-minute evacuation, which in previous years had seen vehicles stuck in queues in excess of fifteen hours. The mayor had yet to announce any official evacuation plans, though a hurricane committee was closely monitoring the storm and all emergency departments were on standby.
The islanders were resilient, particularly the BOIs. Many had experienced Rita and Ike with stoicism, even during the dark days of no power or communication. Laurie had stayed herself during Ike, part of a small skeleton crew who’d manned the police station. David had been away at work and they’d gone six days without speaking to one another when the power cut. The relief of speaking to him again and, days later, seeing him, was a raw emotion she would never be able to forget. She’d been reminded during those times how fragile normality was, and how quickly it could be devastated by something as simple, yet powerful, as the weather.
News of an impending evacuation had obviously reached the station. Equipment was being packed for storage as Laurie made her way down to the holding cells to speak to Warren. Sergeant Nick Raynor was manning the holding cells and offered her a warm smile as she arrived. Nick was the longest-serving officer at the station and had worked under Warren’s reign as chief, and no doubt would be doing everything to look after him. “Last time I looked in on him he was asleep, or pretending to be,” he said.