“Feels like… Ah!”
Pember stumbled back as something dislodged itself. There was a whirring noise, followed by a splutter and a clunk as the fountain’s motors kicked to life.
“Oh shit,” Pember yelped, slipping and sliding as he rushed to get out. Blake yanked his arm, but it was too late, the motors started turning, pulling the water through the pipes and sending up a jet full of crimson water. It sprayed over them, coating them in bloody gore.
“Ew, ew, ew!” Pember screeched as Blake grabbed his arms and hauled him out of the fountain. They retreated into the corner of the tent, almost tripping over the body as they went.
“What the hell—” Blake began, but then he saw it, clutched in Pember’s soaking wet hand. A phone.
They looked at one another, then back at the phone. The screen was cracked, and if the little blinking water symbol was anything to go by, the device was about to go into recovery mode.
“Mark!” Blake bellowed, wiping a hand across the screen. “Mark, get me a fucking preservation bag!”
There was a flurry of movement outside the tent, but all they could look at was the quickly fading screen.
“What’re you going to do?” Pember said, wide-eyed as he handed him the phone.
The device was PIN locked, meaning there really was nothing hecoulddo other than access a few of the phone’s basic functions. Flicking to the camera, he saw that the last photograph taken was just a black screen.
“What about the call log?” Pember said, pressing himself into Blake’s arm. “O-or text messages?”
Blake shook his head. “Not without the PIN. But maybe…” He clicked on the keypad, bringing up the last dialled number.
“999,” Pember said, eyes going wide.
Blake nodded. “He tried to call the police.”
CHAPTER 14
SHIFT
Pember
The police van rocked,making the foul-smelling water drip from their clothes and onto the rubber matting. Johnny and Tay were bickering at the front, and Pember couldn’t tell if they were arguing or if it was just how they communicated. Either way, the inside of his cheek was red raw from trying not to laugh, and when they passed the sign for West Newton, the van jolted and Blake’s shoes squelched.
“This isn’t funny,” Blake muttered, hunched in his seat whilst nonchalantly wiping his glasses.
“I’m not laughing.” Pember snorted, glancing at the two clean patches around Blake’s eyes. “In fact, I’m currently mourning the loss of your tie.”
Blake tutted, running the sodden material between his thumb and forefinger. “My dad got me this tie for my thirtieth birthday.” He huffed, yanking it free and dropping it onto the floor with a wet slap.
Pember liked it too. It had been navy blue with little white swallows darting across the centre. Now it was just a brown mess.
Upon exiting the tent, they’d both been wrapped in foil blankets and unceremoniously shoved into the back of a riot van. The blankets were more for the general public’s benefit than theirs, because the sight of two people covered head to toe in blood would probably stir up a media frenzy.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Pember chuckled. “But try not to get too grumpy about it.”
“So says the man in a full protective suit and waders.”
“These suits aren’t waterproof,” he replied, unzipping the front to show Blake the wet patches covering his shirt. “In fact, the only dry part of me is my feet.”
Blake tutted and went back to wiping his glasses with a sour expression.
“Here,” Pember said, handing him a packet of disinfectant wipes. “You’ve got something on your face.” Blake gave him the side-eye to end all side-eyes, but took the wipes and began rubbing one over his forehead.
“There’s showers at the nick. But the first place we’re going is occupational health. I want a full fucking risk assessment put in place, becauseyou, Pember McArthur, are an occupational hazard.”
Pember hummed and leant back in his chair. “For a big guy, you’re such a baby. You could’ve really done with a sibling or two to toughen you up.” Pember’s mouth tipped into a playful grin. It was like an addiction—teasing the alpha to the point of making him pout.
