Bad Sister(93)

As she gave chase down the road and across the park, Lindsay heard sirens. Then she saw two other men in front of the suspects, at the opposite end of the park, running towards them.

Her legs and arms pumped as she ran, but the gap was lengthening. She could make out that one suspect was slower, he was falling behind the other. She was catching him up. Her legs burned. The gap was closing. The faster suspect stopped abruptly and the two other men jumped on him. Excellent, the civilians had stepped in. Sometimes that was good, sometimes not. Today, Lindsay was grateful.

Lindsay was vaguely aware of police vehicles screeching up at the perimeter of the park. Her eyes were on her goal. The slower man bent over, heaving for breath. She caught up with him, reaching out and grabbing his T-shirt. Both of them were immobile for that moment, both gasping for air.

Mack ran up beside her, and, after shooting her a glare that clearly meant he was angry at her recklessness, apprehended the out-of-breath man.

Now that Lindsay had recovered sufficiently enough to look at him properly, a thud of recognition hit her.

‘What a lowlife. How the hell can you call yourself a police officer?’

Miles Prescott simply turned his head away from her.

The other man, who’d been wrestled to the ground and pinned to it by the helpful public, was Aiden Flynn, as suspected. The relief that he’d been detained, that she hadn’t entirely messed it up, was huge.

‘Who do I have to thank for the excellent take-down?’ she said as she approached the police officers at the far end of the park. A curious crowd had gathered; there were people everywhere.

‘You’ll never believe me, Boss.’ DC Sewell emerged from behind the uniformed officers.

‘Go on. Surprise me.’

‘Our Mr Trevor Jones. Jonesy.’

Lindsay didn’t know what to say. He did have a strange habit of being in the right place at the right time where Connie was concerned. As grateful as she was for his assistance, she made a mental note to keep an eye on him in future – a restraining order might be required.

‘Who was your have-a-go-hero partner, then?’ Lindsay laughed.

Jonesy shrugged. ‘Not sure. I’ve seen him about, mind. Mostly when I’ve seen Connie, as it ’appens.’

‘Right, well he seems to have disappeared for now.’ Lindsay’s eyes scanned the area, but she couldn’t see him. ‘Thanks for your help.’

Lindsay walked back to the police vehicle that now contained Aiden Flynn.

‘You don’t mind if I have a moment, do you?’ Lindsay motioned to the arresting officer, jerking her head towards the car.

‘Sure. He’s been cautioned.’

Lindsay climbed in. She wanted to see the man who’d gone to such lengths for herself. Her mouth almost gaped in surprise. Aiden looked so young – his skin surprisingly soft-looking, plumped. Healthy. Not what she’d expected and in stark contrast to Brett Ellison’s. He didn’t appear innocent-looking, though. His face held an expression of smugness, not that he had reason to be, as far as she could see – he’d been caught after all. His dark eyes bore into Lindsay’s.

‘What you looking at?’ He thrust forwards. Lindsay flinched, even though she knew he was restrained. ‘Think you’re clever, don’t you?’ Spit sprayed from his mouth. Lindsay drew back slightly, then smiled.

‘We’ve got enough evidence to put you away, if that’s what you mean?’

‘Yeah, well,’ he sniffed and tried to wipe his nose on the shoulder of his grey T-shirt. ‘You might bang me up. But it’s not the ones on the inside you should worry about, is it?’

‘Meaning?’

‘No comment.’ He grinned, and then turned away.

This, added to the things Connie had told her, made Lindsay think that this was bigger than Aiden Flynn. There were more people involved in whatever this was – would they ever uncover the whole truth and bring them all to justice? Probably not in her time. Lindsay left the car, and Aiden, behind. For now. She’d get her moment with him, but right now she had more important people to worry about.

‘Hey, Mack.’ Lindsay looked up at him, struggling to find clues to his mood on his weary face. ‘Any news about Connie’s condition?’ She held her breath, praying for the answer she desperately wanted to hear.

‘Being treated for shock, a few bruises, and ligature marks …’

Connie sucked in air through her pursed lips. That sounded nasty.

‘I wonder what would’ve happened, if I hadn’t interrupted them?’

‘But you did. And as much as I’m angry at you for putting yourself and others in danger – because it could’ve ended very badly – you made a judgement call which turned out to be right. So, drinks are on you later.’ He nudged her and winked.

‘I’d best come and help you process these two.’ Lindsay searched Mack’s eyes, hoping he’d be kind.

‘Go on. I’ve got Clarke and Sewell. I can manage while you check on your mate. It would be better if it was you who took her statement anyway.’

‘Thanks, Mack. I owe you,’ Lindsay smiled and walked back to her car, her legs still unstable from the running. She wanted to be at the hospital to offer her support to Connie.

She wanted to know her friend was okay.