The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(46)

Shuffling behind the other prisoners, Lillian entered the room. Her eyes sought out Amy, narrowing as she found her. Amy knew she would be watching her features, feeding off the slightest sign of distress. When had Lillian grown into such a monster? Many books had been written about her and Jack, but it was all conjecture and no answers were to be found in them. Some experts believed it was Lillian’s early abuse that had triggered the need to hurt others in order to gain control. But many victims of abuse lived normal lives, some dedicating their time to helping others. What had made the scales tip the other way?

Regardless of her history, Lillian’s psychopathic tendencies were wired into her brain. Even if she had been raised in the best of households, she could have turned out the same way. Could the same be said for me? The thought hatched in Amy’s consciousness. She had read an article about people inheriting psychopathic traits. But surely she would know by now?

Since discovering the truth of her parentage, Amy had spent many evenings dissecting her personality for signs. She was no stranger to manipulating suspects to provide her with answers, but it was always for the greater good. Often blunt, she was not one for physical affection as far as friends and family were concerned. But that did not make her a psychopath and there was no law against enjoying your own company from time to time. She dismissed the thought as Lillian settled into the seat before her.

She looked well, free of the bruises she sometimes sported. Annoyingly, she was growing her hair to the same length as Amy’s and even had a little colour in her cheeks.

‘Let’s get to the point,’ Amy said, preferring to bypass Lillian’s barbed comments about not taking her calls. ‘What do you want from me and how did you get my home number and address?’

‘Adam.’ Lillian grinned. ‘I granted him an audience. He was more than happy to give me your details in exchange for exclusive coverage of my story.’ She paused, her eyes roaming Amy’s face. When no reaction was forthcoming, she crossed her legs and continued. ‘What a cutesy couple you could have made . . . Amy and Adam up a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’ She chuckled. ‘It sounds like it was meant to be. Tell me, what’s he like in bed? I don’t get many male visitors. I thought about him a lot after he left.’ Slowly, she licked her lips, delivering a salacious smile.

Amy repressed the urge to shudder. Being in her mother’s company made her feel dirty, part of something beyond her control. She knew that Lillian and Jack had used her to lure their victims in. But that was a memory she did not want to recall. Amy took a deep breath as she pushed down the tide of emotions. She didn’t want to believe that Lillian had roped Adam in. The woman was a downright liar, winding her up like a clockwork toy. But Amy’s last meeting with Adam had not been a happy one. She took a deep breath, vowing to stay strong.

‘If you want your exposé, then so be it. My colleagues know all about you. They know I can’t help what a vile family I was born into.’ Amy’s chin tilted upwards in defiance. ‘They accept with good grace the decent, loving people who brought me up. They judge me by my actions, not yours.’

But Lillian was not listening; she was looking over Amy’s shoulder to the far side of the room. Like many psychopaths, she failed to acknowledge the words she did not want to hear. In Lillian’s world, her actions were justified. She had done nothing wrong. ‘See her over there?’ She pointed to a pale, pock-skinned woman in the corner of the room. Her stringy blonde hair was scraped back off her face, and Amy caught her regarding Lillian with a cautious gaze.

‘She’s my girlfriend. We call her Mighty Mouse.’ Lillian smiled. ‘She got banged up for dealing. That’s her daughter visiting her. We’re proper kindred souls.’

For once, Amy was lost for words. Why the hell would a mother of any kind get together with Lillian Grimes?

‘It’s amazing what people will do for a little bit of Black Mamba,’ Lillian said, as if reading her mind. ‘And I’ve got plenty of connections on the inside.’

Amy was all too aware of Black Mamba. Also known as Spice, the synthetic drug left its users in a zombie-like state. The emergency services were called so often to some prisons they were referred to by inmates as Mambulances. It was not unusual for inmates to deal on the inside in order to make money or garner friends, but Lillian being involved in drugs? This was news to Amy. ‘You’re dealing? That’s risky.’ She was still a police officer, and if intelligence presented itself she would use it to her advantage. Anything to keep Lillian behind bars.

‘Me? Deal drugs? Pfft! I don’t touch that shit. I just introduced her to people who do.’ A smile touched her lips. ‘She was ever so grateful . . .’ Lillian winked. ‘You’ve got to love the system. Mind you, I won’t be seeing her once I get out. Women are fine if there’s nothing else on offer, but I do miss a nice rigid—’

‘I didn’t come here to talk about your sex life,’ Amy interrupted, trying but failing to hide her disgust.

The space between them was speared by a titter as Lillian threw back her head and laughed. ‘Forgive me. Children don’t like hearing about their parents’ sex lives, do they? You can blame Adam. He got me all hot under the collar, and I needed some . . . release. As I said to Adam, that DI Donovan must be good in the sack if you dumped the Italian stallion in favour of him.’