Page 4 of Killing Mind

Which was why she’d chosen to keep her mouth shut during the short journey to the home of Samantha Brown’s parents. She couldn’t trust herself to say anything positive, so it was best she didn’t speak at all.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had a cob on. It happened just a couple of times a year and had normally passed by the next day.

He brought the car to a stop outside a detached house in Sedgley.

A half-barrel planter containing trailing fuchsias adorned the area to the right of the front door.

Kim rang the bell and then turned to her colleague.

‘I’ll do the talking.’

He nodded as the door opened to reveal a slim, fair-haired man wearing black trousers and an open-neck shirt. A pair of rimless glasses rested on top of his head.

‘Mr Brown?’ Kim asked, holding up her identification.

He nodded slowly as he brought down the glasses to take a better look.

His face creased in concern. ‘Detective Inspector…’ he said, clearly wondering what they were doing at his door.

‘May we come in?’ she asked.

‘Of course,’ he continued, pointing to the second door on the left.

Kim entered what was clearly the man’s home office. She noted an A1-sized drawing board in front of a high-backed stool. Two line drawings sat side by side. An antique pine desk held a top spec Apple computer and an open notebook. A captain’s chair had been pushed aside. On the left-hand side was a three seater sofa in front of a wall of bookshelves. She guessed he was an architect who worked from home.

‘Please, take a seat,’ he said, pointing to the sofa.

She had the feeling that the man before her thought he could prevent potential bad news by displaying good manners.

Kim sat and Bryant followed suit as the man lowered himself onto the captain’s chair and turned to face them.

‘Mr Brown, is your wife…?’

‘Myles, please,’ he offered.

Kim wasn’t keen on using first names, but given the circumstances of what she was about to tell him, she’d follow his wish.

‘Okay, Myles, we need to speak to both you and your—’

The door to the study opened, cutting her off.

‘Darling, I can’t get hold of…’

Her words trailed away as her gaze lifted from the phone she was carrying and saw them sitting there.

The woman she assumed was Mrs Brown and the person not answering her phone was her daughter, Samantha.

Kim worked hard to keep down the nausea that threatened her.

‘They’re detectives, Kate,’ Myles said, standing and beckoning his wife over to the seat.

She acquiesced, holding the phone limply in her hand.

‘Is it Sammy?’ the woman asked, tremulously.

Kim realised that these were the last few even remotely normal moments the couple would experience until they constructed a new normal around the loss of their child.

Both faces were filled with a mixture of fear and anticipation and yet, once they knew, once the words were spoken, they would wish for this time back, for the time, any time before she said the words.