Page 105 of Killing Mind

The whites of Stacey’s eyes suddenly reddened.

‘Imagine he was here right now. What would he be saying?’

Stacey swallowed. ‘He’d be telling me that I was good enough and that Devon was the lucky one.’

Kim pulled her gaze away from the desk and back to her colleague.

‘And for once, Stacey, he would have been right.’

Eighty-Four

Bryant walked into a room full of excited chatter. The desks were littered with small plastic cups, half-filled and a bottle of cheap wine on the top table. Three pizza boxes lay open, scattered around the work stations.

Travis came forward, holding a mug of coffee, his other hand outstretched.

‘Come in, Bryant,’ he said, affably. ‘Join the celebration.’

Lynne raised her diet Coke at him in greeting.

‘What’s going on?’

‘He confessed,’ Travis said, loosening his tie. ‘Peter Drake told us everything.’

‘You’re kidding?’ Bryant said.

Twenty-five years ago the man had hidden behind a lawyer and hadn’t spoken a word until he’d stepped into court.

‘Nope. A bit of prodding and we got the lot. Lynne and I are going back in there to finish off once he’s had a break, but I can tell you that Peter Drake is headed right back where he belongs.’

‘Bloody hell,’ Bryant said, as the tension he’d been carrying for the last few days released its grip on his body.

‘Here, have one of these,’ he said, pouring the last of the wine into the cup.

Bryant declined. The bottle and cups were just for show and the people who weren’t driving. Bryant knew few police officers who touched a drop if they were getting behind the wheel.

‘Do you mind if I watch the tape?’ Bryant asked.

Travis’s face hardened. ‘Jeez, Bryant, you got what you wanted.’

A girl in her twenties had suffered a horrific, brutal murder. He’d hardly call that getting what he wanted.

‘Closure, Travis. I’ll watch the confession and then I can let it go.’

He saw the man’s frustration and didn’t care. If he’d learned anything from his boss it was that you saw something through to the bitter end.

‘Bob, get the confession up,’ he called to a stick thin officer reaching for a piece of pizza.

Bob looked from one to the other and put the pizza back down before rubbing his hands on his trousers. He sat, loaded the footage, stood and pointed for Bryant to take his seat.

Bryant thanked him and watched as he headed back to the pizza that had his name on it.

Bryant sat and picked up the headphones that were still attached to the machine.

‘Hey, Bryant,’ Lynne said, leaning against the desk.

‘You do the first interview?’ he asked.

She nodded. ‘I was arresting officer and there are few arrests that have given me more pleasure. I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that piece of shit is back behind bars.’