Taunting the Dead (26 page)

‘No, he wouldn’t. Phil has his big brother to hide behind. He might be locked up but he could still get to Terry.’ Carole sighed. ‘Still, at least if Terry did do him in, it would get Phil off your back too. I still think there’s something you’re not telling me.’

Shaun flinched.

‘Men like him don’t let you off repaying twenty grand,’ she added in the hope of getting him to talk. ‘He’ll want you for something bigger, you mark my words. And when he does, I hope you’ll be ready for it.’

‘You’ve changed the subject pretty quickly,’ Shaun accused. ‘You know far more about Phil than you’re letting on, don’t you?’

‘I’m just telling you what I heard.’ Carole lowered her eyes. If she wasn’t careful, she might land herself in it without thinking. She grabbed a box of cutlery in the pretence of something to do to leave the kitchen.

But Shaun wouldn’t let it go. ‘Was he at The Potter’s Wheel when Steph was murdered?’

‘I’ve told you before. I was too drunk to remember.’ Carole marched past him but he grabbed her arm.

‘I know, you told me that before. But what aren’t you telling me, Carole?’

‘Nothing!’ She shrugged her arm away.

‘Then why were you over at Terry’s again? Why the sudden interest?’

‘I’m trying to help out!’

‘You should be helping out here! Come on, spit it out. What’s the big secret?’

‘I haven’t got a secret!’ Carole lowered her voice. ‘What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?’

Shaun folded his arms. ‘Nothing.’

‘There’s clearly something on your mind too. What’s your big secret?’ Carole glared at him. ‘Not willing to share?’ she said after a while.

Shaun remained silent.

‘Fine.’ Carole walked off again. ‘Until you can share your secret with me, then I’ll go to The Gables as many times as I feel necessary.’

‘Fine! I’ll run things smoothly this end until you decide to grace us with your presence again.’

As Carole left the room, Shaun sat down with a thump. He wondered if Terry knew about the pregnancy, then cursed himself for not asking Carole. Still, knowing that Steph had been messing about could be his way out of this mess, especially since Phil was sure to be gunning for him once he found out that he hadn’t killed her.

While Shaun sat thinking of some way he could use this new information for his own purposes, Carole banged cutlery down on the tables.
One morning
, she fumed. She’d been away for two hours and Shaun was already complaining. She felt like a slave. Wasn’t she entitled to a life of her own?

Well, stuff him. Shaun would have to complain a little more because she was going to The Gables again tomorrow. She would make a shepherd’s pie. Terry would like that. She might even return to dish it out, prepare some vegetables and a carton of gravy. Maybe she could join him.

She smiled now her thoughts were back on track. Terry needed her and she would be there for him, no matter what.

Allie left the Ryder residence with a jumble of thoughts in her head. As she climbed into the pool car and reversed out of the driveway, she looked up to see Kirstie watching from an upstairs window. She paused for a moment and caught her eye, wondering if she wanted to speak to her. But she didn’t acknowledge her in any way so she continued off down the avenue.

She’d been surprised that Terry had no idea who the mystery man his wife was having an affair with might be. Oh, she knew that was the nature of the liaison, the other partner not knowing anything, but even so. Terry Ryder struck her as the type of person who would know everything that went on in his personal affairs. She wondered again if Steph had known she was pregnant before she died. After all, she’d only been thirteen weeks gone. Maybe she hadn’t had any symptoms to suggest it by that stage. And if she did know, had she told the father? Had she even had
time
to tell the father? Maybe she knew and the father didn’t?

There were so many loose ends to tie up on this case but one thing was certain. Terry Ryder didn’t take too kindly to his daughter mixing with Lee Kennedy. In a way, Allie could understand his outburst. If she had a daughter, she wouldn’t want her to go anywhere near him.

Back at the station, she started on the mound of paperwork that she needed to action. Across the desk from her, Sam sat huddled over a monitor.

‘Any luck with CCTV yet?’ Allie asked her.

‘Some,’ Sam replied, not taking her eyes from the screen. ‘I’ve picked up Steph Ryder with Carole Morrison as they go in and out of the pubs that Carole mentioned. Then they get into a taxi on Stafford Street at quarter past ten. We lose them when they leave the city centre.’

‘And there are no cameras to speak of at The Potter’s Wheel?’

‘There are two dummy cameras and a grainy image on a working camera showing the right side of the car park so I’m mapping out the cars from there. But it doesn’t swing round enough to cover the side where she was found. The light was out around the back too.’

‘Out or broken?’

‘Broken.’

Allie paused for a moment, wondering if the killer had known this or if it had simply worked out in their favour. She sifted through some of the witness statements that Matt and Perry, along with a few uniformed officers, had gathered from anyone who had been in The Potter’s Wheel that night. A couple of people had seen Carole leave and also Steph, but they couldn’t be certain which one of them had gone first or if any of them had come back in at all. It had been a typical drunken night ‒ lots going on but no one really noticing anything.
A great time for anyone to lie
, Allie realised with despair.

She trawled through more of the statements that had come in from Georgia Road. Despite its location, Nick wanted all the residents questioned. It was a long shot, but maybe one of Terry’s tenants had taken a disliking to him over a dodgy deal or an eviction. But she soon realised as she flicked through the paperwork that she could hardly call them witness statements. True to form, no one on Georgia Road had seen Steph Ryder at any of the properties in the few days before she’d died. Number sixteen said he’d never seen Steph down there, or her car. Number six refused to answer the door, on several occasions. Number twenty-four denied knowing her at all. Number twenty-two had been away for the weekend. Perry had checked that out with the custody sergeant and, sure enough, he’d been booked into the custody suite early Friday evening, appeared in court first thing Monday morning and been given conditional bail. And, according to Phil Kennedy, when she came across his statement, he said that he had seen Steph that night but hadn’t noticed anything untoward. Allie made a mental note to check that out again and also go over Lee Kennedy’s statement when that came in. So far no one had caught him at home.

A text message came into her phone. It was from her friend Kate, asking if she fancied meeting for lunch the next day. Allie sighed. She hated letting her friends down but there was no way she could make it, not in the middle of the case. With regret, as this was the third time in a row, she sent a message back with her apologies. Halfway through it, a movement caught her eye. Sam was on the phone waving frantically at her. Allie waited for her to put down the receiver.

‘There’s been a handbag found in the bushes of an empty property about a mile away from The Potter’s Wheel,’ Sam said. ‘It has a phone – a smart phone – and a purse. And there’s a watch with the name Steph engraved on it.’

Allie was in the shower when she heard the door to the cubicle open and close. Steam rose around her. Momentarily, she was shocked when she felt a hand slowly rising up the side of her thigh. But then she turned her body, closing her eyes against the force of the water. Two hands found her waist. Lips found hers. They kissed, slowly, water dripping into their mouths and over their tongues. They broke for air and his mouth moved lower, over her neck, her chest, her stomach and back up again. She gasped as his hand caressed her body.

Letting the hot water flow over her breasts, she arched her back as the waves of passion began to build. She opened her eyes and glanced down… to find Terry Ryder looking up at her. Flames licked at her insides as his lustful eyes mesmerised her. But then she saw red. Red over her stomach, the tops of her thighs, her breasts. The water diluted it but it kept coming back. She put a hand to it, brought it closer to her face. As she climaxed, she realised it was blood.

Allie woke with a start. She sat up and switched on the bedside lamp. It was three a.m. The house was quiet. With Mark asleep beside her, a slight snore escaping his lips, she wondered why the hell she’d dreamt about Terry Ryder. Until she could prove otherwise, he was a suspect in a murder case. And what the hell was all the blood about?

Could she pass this off as normal behaviour or was there something else to it? Working on a case was all-consuming for Allie. She ate, slept and breathed it until she could do no more about it. Usually that was down to one of two things. Either the suspect was caught and charged or the case went cold as the leads dried up and there was no satisfying conclusion.

Going over individuals’ details meant she often knew the victim better than the family. Yesterday, she’d picked up more personal effects from Terry. Along with examining the items found in the bag this lunchtime, yet to be confirmed as Steph Ryder’s, the afternoon’s job had been to go through everything to see what she could piece together. Finding the phone meant that they could trawl through the phone records. And as technology had advanced, there could be a lot of personal items to search through on there also. Emails, photos, even downloaded applications could build a broader picture. Quite often social media accounts such as Twitter and Facebook could tell you more than any family member. Allie liked to do as much of this as she could. It helped her to get inside the victim’s head.

She lay back down again. Thankfully, it had only been a dream. Guiltily, she spooned into Mark’s back, her hand reaching possessively around his waist, perhaps to remind her that he was real. She shouldn’t be dreaming about anyone but him.

She tried to sleep but still Terry invaded her thoughts. To catch a killer, sometimes Allie had to get near to that killer. Get them to trust her. Get them to slip up. So far, Terry had given no signs that he could be involved in his wife’s murder, but still, instinct told her to keep pushing. That meant playing her part. Yesterday, she’d known he was trying to manipulate her with all that talk about affairs. Make her seem uneasy around him so that she wouldn’t outstay her welcome. But somehow she had to make Terry think the opposite. She needed to get underneath
his
skin. It was dangerous but she’d done it before to great results. Never with anyone as powerful as Terry Ryder, though.

Allie closed her eyes and up popped Terry’s face again. What was wrong with her? Why was her heart ruling her head?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Even though her dream from the night before was still clear in her mind and even though it made her more than a little wary of visiting Terry, after the following morning’s catch-up meeting revealed nothing further coming in overnight, Allie made her way to The Gables alone. She’d phoned Terry to tell him she’d be calling but was still taken aback when she saw him waiting in the doorway. He smiled as she parked up, looking oh-so-bloody-fresh in navy jeans and a pale blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. She sighed. Wasn’t the man ever cold? It was minus two outside and she was sick of scraping the ice off car windows, yet here he was again dressed as if it were summer.

He stepped onto the driveway to greet her. Allie felt her cheeks start to flush as the aroma of his aftershave enveloped her. It had a masculine woody note with a hint of vanilla, definitely something by Hugo Boss. She breathed it in then stopped abruptly. She needed to keep her cool to pull this off.

‘We’ve found a few more things we think belong to your wife.’ She rummaged in the back seat of the car for her bag.

Terry closed the door for her afterwards. ‘I hope you’ve caught the bastard who did this as well?’

‘We’re still making enquiries.’

‘It’s been four days. Don’t you have any leads?’

‘There are a number of things we’re following up.’
Like your every move before the crime occurred.

They walked to the house. Allie could feel his arm resting on the small of her back, even though it wasn’t there. When they went through to the family room, she was surprised to see Carole there again. She was cleaning down a work surface, a tap gushing as it filled up the sink. Looking irritated, she turned off the tap and rushed across the room to join them.

Before Allie could speak, Terry did.

‘I’ll need to see the sergeant alone,’ he addressed Carole. ‘This is another personal matter.’

‘But I thought…’ Carole turned quickly on her heel. ‘I’ll make coffee, then.’

Allie felt another pang of pity for the woman but was happy to brush it aside. She passed Terry the first transparent evidence bag. Inside it was the shoulder bag that had been found. It wasn’t anything in particular ‒ small, black with a zip opening and a few decorative buckles. Perry had located it in one of the high street fashion stores for less than twenty pounds.

‘Did this belong to Steph?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘You think?’

‘I’m not a woman so I don’t take much interest in bags. You mentioned something inside it when you phoned?’

Allie passed him another evidence bag. Inside this one was a wrist watch. It was made by Tag Heuer, the model Aquaracer 2000. Its mother-of-pearl diamond dial had a polished steel case, the bracelet scratch-resistant sapphire crystal. Perry had looked it up on the internet. The price tag was just under seventeen hundred pounds to buy it now. And although there were many good counterfeit watches doing the rounds, it certainly didn’t look like a knock-off from a market stall.

Terry turned the bag over and peered at the inscription on the back. It read ‘
To Steph, all my love x.
’