Page 31 of Twisted Lies

She sighed heavily as she reached for her jacket. As it was halfway on, her phone signalled a Google Alert. She still got them for articles posted by Frost since their last major case, where reports posted by Frost had been the primary form of communication between herself and a killer.

‘Oh, Frost, what have you… what the hell?’ she said, reading past the headline.

Kim felt her anger rising. ‘You ruthless, manipulative bitch.’

The godforsaken woman had taken advantage of the situation of meeting the family of Trisha Morley and was now jumping on the bandwagon.

She chose to ignore that this had been Woody’s plan all along. There was just something about the fact they had allowed Frost access to the family and that she was now writing about them that made her want a steaming hot shower and a bottle of bleach.

The more she read, the more incensed she became. All of this information had not come out during their visit, which could only mean one thing: Frost had gone back and intruded again, bothering the family at a difficult time, and that wasn’t what Woody had had in mind.

‘Frost, I swear,’ she said as her thumb hovered over the ‘Contact’ icon.

Bryant’s voice sounded in her head, urging caution. Telling her to breathe before she acted.

She returned to the article and read it properly – twice.

She noted all the references to Trisha’s childhood: her upbringing; her relationship with her sister; memories they shared. The piece wasn’t about Trisha the victim, it was about Trisha the person.

It was exactly what they’d wanted her to do. The article hinted at more to come.

A slow smile spread over Kim’s face as she put away her phone.

‘Fair play, Frost,’ she said, walking out of the door. ‘Bloody fair play.’

Twenty-Three

Stacey took a breath and placed a smile on her face as she put her key in the lock. She wasn’t sure why, as she’d never felt the need to do it before. This was her home, her safe haven. It had been Devon’s flat, but she’d felt at home here since the first time she’d visited. She’d had no complaints on making this their home, as it was bigger than her old place, had a second bedroom and a Juliet balcony that looked out onto a row of back gardens. The day after the wedding her name had been added to the lease.

‘Hey…’ she called, hanging up her coat in the hallway, another facility her own flat had lacked.

‘Hey, babe. I’m in the kitchen,’ Devon called back.

Stacey could smell the delicious aromas of her favourite Chinese meal being kept warm in the oven.

As she stepped into the kitchen, Stacey caught her breath as she always did.

Devon was dressed in low-slung deep red joggers that hugged her slim hips but showed off her toned stomach. A V-neck T-shirt with cut-off sleeves hinted at the body beneath.

The body was killer, but that wasn’t what took Stacey’s breath away. It was the soft skin, lighter than her own, that disappeared beneath the shortest, tightest curls that were cut close to the head and dyed blonde. Devon had never had a weave in her life and didn’t intend to.

It was that face and the love that emanated from it that sent Stacey’s heart hammering in her chest. For a long time, she had felt unworthy of such a creature, with her own dark Nigerian skin and the extra few pounds she carried, but not anymore. She now knew that Devon loved her for the person she was and she trusted in that.

‘How was your day, wife?’ Devon asked, moving towards her.

Stacey forgot everything as Devon took her in her arms and kissed her passionately.

Stacey groaned out loud as the desire hit her immediately.

‘Later, babe,’ Devon said, moving away. ‘First, we celebrate with your favourite wine,’ she said, handing Stacey a glass. Although not much of a drinker, she did enjoy the odd glass of rosé.

‘So, come on, tell me all about it,’ Devon said, hitching herself up onto the work surface. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘Nothing to tell, hun. The boss just called me in and said she thought I was ready for promotion.’

Devon looked disappointed, and Stacey knew she hadn’t presented it exactly the way it had happened.

‘Oh well, as long as they’re recognising how fantastic you are, which I always knew, of course.’