Val glanced between them, her watery eyes narrowing. “Anyway, what’s the point?” she continued. “There’s nothing for them here. Not since their daddy passed.”
“There’s you,” Pember said, as though suddenly remembering himself. He moved to stand, but Blake gripped his leg, all but pulling him into his lap.
Val stared at him, her wispy brows pulling into a frown. “What’s wrong with you, boy? You got ants in your pants?”
Pember flushed, his pale skin taking on a crimson hue. “N-no, I just—” He glanced up at Blake, who only returned the look with a smirk. Pember swallowed. “B-but surely you miss them?” he continued.
Val gave a sad smile and dropped her head. “Aye. But what reason am I for them to return home?”
“You’re every reason,” he whispered, leaning across the table to touch the back of her hand.
Silence passed between them, the moment hanging heavy in the air. Eventually, Blake sighed and said, “Cheesecake, anyone?”
CHAPTER 13
BODY IN THE FOUNTAIN
Blake
Raindrops ranin rivulets down Blake’s black golf umbrella, dripping on his shoe as he watched the uniformed officers hurrying to protect the body. A shock of red blood across a white T-shirt drew Blake’s gaze, and he stared at the victim sprawled across the cobbles next to the fountain. The smell of ozone was thick, giving the air a humid quality.
“Well, shit. Another fucking alpha,” Mark said, huddled under his Barbour jacket whilst water dripped down his nose. He’d tried to muscle under Blake’s umbrella several times, but Blake had stuck out his elbow and given him a dirty look. Mark gave up eventually.
Early morning shifters were still being ushered out from between the pine trees, each of them extremely unhappy about having their routine interrupted.
“They’re saying the poor fucker had his fangs knocked out,” Mark continued.
Blake sighed, glancing down at the clipboard that he’d rather ingeniously secured inside a clear evidence bag. Mark had takenno such precaution, and furiously shook his bundle of sodden papers.
“Sarge?” a voice called, making Blake look up.
An equally sodden response officer stood in front of him, exhaling heavily, making Blake draw back from the mist she created.
“Yes?”
“Do you want a cordon on the whole park, or just in the immediate vicinity?”
She tugged at her hood, making the rain drip onto her unprotected radio.Rookie mistake.Blake’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the edge of the shifter park. It would be light soon, and the people of High Enfield would begin their morning commutes.
“Place an outer cordon on all entrances and exits,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket. “I’d like an inner cordon around the treeline.”
“Yes, Sarge. And the log?” She clutched a bright red booklet to her chest with the wordsMAJOR INCIDENT SCENE LOGstamped in black letters.
Blake smirked as he took the thick document from her gloved hands and scribbled Mark’s details on the inner page.
“There you are, DS Matthews,” he said, slapping it against his chest. “Make yourself useful.”
“Thank you,” the officer said, turning to leave. Blake caught her sleeve.
“Here,” he said, pulling another evidence bag out of his pocket and placing it over her radio. “Shit day to get a cake fine.”
She looked down at her chest, then back up at Blake. “Oh! Thanks. Yeah… I’m still wiped out from crashing the car into a victim’s wheelie bin. The fuckers made me buy biscuits for the entire shift.”
Blake chuckled. “Not even custard slices? Uniform must be getting soft.”
She shrugged. “Not soft. Just poor.”
With that, she jogged towards another officer who was trying to wrangle the scene tape into submission. There was nothing else to be said as they watched the third murder victim disappear underneath the white forensic tent.
