Bad Sister(92)

‘Who’s with Connie now that Clarke’s here? I thought you were meant to be taking over from him.’ Mack walked over to Lindsay’s desk, where a precariously placed pile of files wobbled on the far edge.

‘Careful.’ She reached across and placed a hand to steady the pile. ‘I’m going in a sec, after I put these back.’ She pointed to the files.

Mack craned his head around her to look at the time on her monitor. ‘You’ve left her on her own for over an hour.’

Lindsay’s shoulders dropped. ‘Shit!’ She shot up, swiftly grabbing the pile of files and ramming them into Mack’s arms. ‘Can you sort these? I have to run.’

She hadn’t realised that much time had passed – she’d intended to leave the station and head to Connie’s work as soon as Clarke arrived with Brett. Then she’d got sidetracked.

‘Don’t panic,’ Mack shouted over the top of the files, ‘we’ve got Brett here, and the others have got an address for Aiden Flynn, they’re going there now. She’ll be fine.’

Yes, she probably would. But still, Lindsay didn’t want to leave her without protection until he was in custody, securely locked up. Better safe than sorry.

Her finger was dead from keeping it pressed on the buzzer. Connie wasn’t responding. Lindsay dialled her mobile. No answer. She stepped back into the road to look up at the window. No movement. She must’ve decided to pack up for the day and go home. Lindsay walked back across the market square, under the town hall to the car park. She’d go straight to Connie’s. Hopefully she’d be home by the time she got there.

During the drive she mulled over the case, mentally ticking off the evidence. They would get Aiden Flynn for the murder, she was sure of it – the evidence in the van, DNA and timings of his release would tie him nicely to that. There was also the strong circumstantial evidence of the brain injury linking him to the tattoos on Hargreaves’ body. With further investigation, Lindsay hoped they could gather harder evidence on that strand. But there were loose ends. Bloody untidy ones. Who had helped him? Multiple people would’ve been required for his plans to work. It was a difficult operation breaking Hargreaves free, getting to Connie once she’d changed her name – he’d had accomplices for sure. And not just his dad and his henchmen on the outside. The insiders were still unknown. All Lindsay could hope for was that, upon questioning, Aiden Flynn would give some of them up.

That was doubtful, though. She’d have to accept that sometimes things didn’t tie up neatly in a bow. There were so many variables in this case and coming out with all the answers was far too optimistic. They’d have to settle for the main guy, at least to begin with.

As Lindsay began driving up Connie’s road, the hair on the back of her neck bristled. She pulled over at the bottom of the hill, parked and turned the engine off. Her scalp tingled. For a reason she couldn’t fathom, she knew something was amiss.

She picked up the radio to request a back-up car. She was told to wait, that assistance would be there shortly. She didn’t want to wait. What if Connie was in danger? She texted Mack: Connie’s house. Now. It would only take five minutes or so for him to get here, Connie’s house being only two miles from the police station, but those minutes could be vital ones. She’d only ever gone to Connie’s through the front entrance, there was no side path to reach the back of the house. Looking at the other buildings, it seemed there was a back road that led to the rear of the houses. It’d probably be easier to gain access through the back. If that was needed.

Her heartbeat was rapid, her breathing shallow. What was she expecting? She found the right gate and slowly edged it open, squeezing through. With her back tight against the wall of Connie’s house, Lindsay made her way to the kitchen window.

She stopped breathing.

A quick glance had revealed two males inside. This was worse than she’d thought. She assumed one was likely to be Aiden Flynn. Who was the second? Could it be Niall after all? She hadn’t seen Connie. What had they done with her? Lindsay had to get in there. Stop this before it was too late.

Another peek through.

Connie’s legs were splayed and motionless on the floor, her upper body obscured from view.

Please don’t have killed her.

The men had their backs to the window and were closer to the lounge than the kitchen. The smaller of the two squatted down over Connie, pulling her hair. He lifted her head from the floor, then dropped it, a dull thud reaching Lindsay’s ears. She should get in there, do something. But if she burst in she had no weapon – no way of restraining two men. No way of stopping them from hurting Connie. Her heart pleaded with her to go in, get Connie to safety. Her head screamed at her to wait for back-up. She screwed her eyes up tight. How much time had passed? Was the back-up going to be here now? Where was Mack?

Go in. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.

If you do, and you fuck up, like you did on Dartmoor, then lives could be lost.

She’d have to wait.

A scream burst from the house.

Lindsay kicked the door again and again until it splintered and fell open.

‘Police!’

She heard scrambling footsteps heading away from her. As much as she wanted to check on Connie, she stepped over her still body and chased after the men with no plan in her head, just adrenaline coursing through her veins. She’d made the wrong call; they were going to easily outrun her.