The Running Girls(56)

“Please, come and sit down, Sandra.”

Sandra shook her head, pouring water into the coffee machine before switching it on. While the roar of grinding beans broke the silence for a few seconds, Laurie indicated to Gemma that she should take over in the kitchen.

Laurie led Sandra to the dining table, the smell of stale wine strong on the woman’s breath. As they both sat, Laurie thought how similar they were. Both had lost daughters. Sandra was going through the early stages of grief and had turned to alcohol for comfort, whereas she was in a different stage, albeit one she suspected felt exactly the same. What had she turned to for comfort, she wondered, before glancing down at her hyper-toned body, which felt as devoid of curves as a slab of useless meat.

“This isn’t going to be easy to hear, Sandra,” she said.

Sandra smiled at her as if she was simple, as if anything could possibly be worse than finding out your daughter was dead.

“I’m afraid we found Glen’s body this morning at your apartment building in Houston. I can’t confirm for sure, but it seems highly probable that he has taken his own life.”

Sandra sat open-mouthed as the news filtered through to her. “Did he kill her?” she said, taking Laurie by surprise.

“You mean Grace?” said Laurie, glancing over at Gemma, who came and sat next to Sandra. “We just don’t know at this stage. We’ve been unable to find a note from him as yet.”

Sandra allowed Gemma to put her arm around her but remained tensed, her back iron-straight.

“Do you think he killed her, Sandra?” asked Laurie.

“It wouldn’t surprise me. He was a monster. He had no morals, no compassion, and I’m glad he’s dead. Now, let’s get this coffee. I’d like to get out of this town before that hurricane hits, and I don’t ever want to come back.”





Chapter Thirty


Laurie checked through Glen Harrington’s office in search of a suicide note before leaving the house empty-handed. Gemma remained with Sandra, helping her to pack and secure anything left behind. Laurie wondered if Sandra would be as good as her word and never return to Galveston. Grace’s body had been transferred to the pathologists in Houston, and Glen’s body would be there soon, too, so there may never be a need for her to return. And if Hurricane Heather proved to be as destructive as everyone now seemed to anticipate, Galveston’s infrastructure would be seriously curtailed in the coming months.

As she drove from Offatts Bayou, Laurie wondered if her own time in Galveston might also be coming to an end. She’d made a life on the island after getting posted here, but what was left of it now? Milly was gone, and David was receding from her. Her only real connection to the city was her job, and that was something she could do elsewhere. The hard truth was that every second in Galveston felt like it would always be a reminder of Milly. How could she run along the beaches, or swim in the gulf, without thinking about what could have, should have been? The three of them would have been so happy, and now making any kind of happiness here seemed like a distant dream.

Along the coast, it appeared everyone was thinking along the same lines, if only temporarily. The traffic toward the causeway crept along like a funeral procession, the faces in the vehicles haunted. There had been fatalities in Galveston during Ike, and in some ways the city was still recovering from that time. People had lost their homes and businesses, and many hadn’t returned. Those who prayed would no doubt be in contact with their maker right now, and from the look of it more people than last time were taking the warnings seriously. Another truth was that little had changed since Ike. Plans had been floated of ways to protect the area from further storms, but all such ideas cost vast amounts of money and what money there was had been spent on rebuilding. If Heather did make landfall tomorrow, power would almost certainly disappear in most areas. No matter what, the next few weeks, at the very least, were going to be extremely unpleasant for anyone left on the island.

By the time she reached their apartment, David was back and had already boarded the windows. He was packing and didn’t raise his head as Laurie entered the bedroom, the fallout from their earlier meeting still fresh. “I’ve packed away as much as I can,” he said, not looking up as he zipped shut a suitcase.

“Did you manage to speak to Warren?” she asked, collapsing on the bed. Despite everything that was happening between them, she was already beginning to miss him. It felt like forever since they’d spent any proper time together. She cursed herself for having followed him to the coffee shop that night. How much happier would she be now, she wondered, if she’d just stayed home. David stopped packing and lay down next to her. “We can still leave,” he said, as if reading her mind.

“You are leaving,” she said. “I have the Grace Harrington investigation.”

“Come on, Laurie, that can wait. You don’t need to put yourself in danger’s way because of a homicide investigation. They don’t pay you enough, for one.”

Laurie smiled. “That’s true enough. You haven’t answered me about Warren.”

“He’s as stubborn as you. It looks like none of us are going to leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to stay around at his place. See if I can keep one of us alive.”

“No,” said Laurie. “That’s not happening.”