Page 86 of Vengeance is Mine

‘You’ve given us a lead to follow. That’s something. I might need to call on you again, is that all right?’

‘That’s fine, dear, any time. Although I’m going to Cancun at the end of the month. That’s still all right, isn’t it?’

Kyra smiled. ‘Only if you take me with you.’

Milly laughed. ‘There’s six of us going and not one of us is under eighty. You’d be bored silly.’

On the doorstep, Kyra stopped and turned back. ‘Sorry, I have to ask – why Cancun?’

‘Why not?’ Milly shrugged.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Terry had been due to attend the post mortem of Dominic Griffiths first thing, but by the time he got off the phone to the Press Office trying to find out how the hell the story had been leaked to the media, he was too late. He was pleased. Attending a post mortem was never the highlight of the day, and when the person was the man you despised more than anyone else, it was difficult to find any compassion for how he had died.

Terry sat in his office with the door closed. He knew he was the wrong man to lead this investigation, but there was nobody else. In every murder investigation he’d ever conducted, he’d sympathised with the victim and their family and wanted justice to be served. This time, it wasn’t so clear-cut.

He put his head down on his desk and closed his eyes. He had some serious soul-searching to do. He couldn’t go to the Super and ask to be reassigned, because he didn’t want to risk coming across as weak or unprofessional. He was a good detective, and he didn’t want anything to interfere with his professional reputation. He loved the job. He needed it. It was all he had.

That left only one thing he could do, and that was to try and put his personal feelings aside and solve this case as quickly as possible.

‘I’ve been looking all over for you.’ Kyra Willis approached Terry, who was sat at a table in the canteen. She pulled out a chair and sat down, unable to take her eyes from his scrambled egg on toast. ‘You don’t look like you’re enjoying that.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Eggs made last week again?’ she asked, with a smirk.

‘No. I’m only eating it because I felt a bit faint. I’m not enjoying it.’

‘You’re far too thin, Terry. It’s not healthy.’

‘I just don’t seem to have much of an appetite lately,’ he said, pushing it away only half-eaten.

‘Aren’t you finishing that?’

‘No.’ He looked at her, as she licked her lips. ‘You can if you like.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, pulling the plate towards her. ‘There wasn’t enough milk for cereal this morning, so I only had a crumpet.’ She cut off a few large chunks of toast and chewed.

‘How did it go on Atlantic Road?’ Terry asked. ‘Did you have to threaten any of the neighbours with a taser to get them to talk to you?’

Kyra quickly chewed and swallowed. ‘No. I put on my little-girl-lost look, and a sweet old dear told me all about a Peugeot 206 seen cruising the area over the past couple of nights.’

‘Why didn’t she tell us yesterday when uniform knocked on her door?’

Kyra shrugged. ‘She didn’t want to get involved.’

‘So, why get involved now?’

‘Because uniform don’t have my expertise when it comes to chatting to elderly ladies.’ She grinned.

Terry wasn’t listening. ‘What car does Dawn drive?’

‘What?’ Kyra was taken aback by the sudden change of direction. ‘A Peugeot.’

‘Colour?’

‘Black. It’s not a 206, though.’