Web of Lies by Sally Rigby (classic novels for teens txt) 📗

from there I’m going to contact the FCA to find out who alerted them to the fraud.’

‘Surely a visit to Foxton Locks, the crime scene, is a better place to start.’

She was right.

‘Good point. I’ll go in the morning.’

‘Wait until my shift ends and I’ll come with you. Pick me up at five-fifteen tomorrow afternoon, outside the station. I’m on the eight-five shift.’

Chapter 9

7 May

Birdie stared at her birth certificate which she’d taken out of the drawer where the family’s important documents were kept. She’d been born in Leicester on 7 November. A Scorpio baby. That made sense. Nonconformist. Passionate. Determined. How many times had those traits been levelled at her?

Father: Unnamed

Mother: Kim Bakirtzis

She called up the Adoption Contact Register website on her screen and read through all the details. It wasn’t a tracing system as such, but a register for people affected by adoption to record they wished to be in contact with their birth relatives. She opened the application form. Her heart raced as she keyed in the information regarding her birth and adoption details and, after paying a fee of fifteen pounds, she submitted her request to be added.

That was it. She’d done it. There was no turning back. She just had to wait to see if her mother was also on the register and then, potentially, they could be in contact with one another. She’d no idea how long it would take to get a response, but hopefully … she caught sight of the time on her phone.

Crap. She was meant to have met Clifford fifteen minutes ago.

She grabbed her jacket and raced out of the station, shoving her arms into it on the way. She came to an immediate halt. What car did he drive? By the time they’d left the pub last night, it was dark, and they’d headed in opposite directions, so she didn’t see.

She scanned the small car park. Close to the entrance was a large, black BMW four-wheel drive that she didn’t recognise. Was that him? She jogged over and saw him sitting in the front seat. She waved, and he responded.

‘You’re late,’ Clifford said as she opened the passenger door and hitched herself up into the seat.

‘Sorry, things got away with me. You know what it’s like, having been in the job. Um … One thing you better know about me is my timekeeping’s not brilliant.’

She might as well tell him now rather than have him discover it down the track. That way he couldn’t moan at her. She hoped he wasn’t one of those obsessive, gotta to be punctual or the world will come to an end, freaks.

‘It’s good to be forewarned,’ he said, giving a warm smile. ‘Put on your seat belt and we’ll go.’

‘Have you been to Foxton Locks before? she asked, pulling the belt over her and clicking it in place.

‘No. Have you?’

‘Oh, yeah, loads of times. We used to go when I was a kid. Everyone goes. It’s a great place. Obviously not because we’re going to see where the victim was found. But it’s lovely and it doesn’t get dark until nine, so we’ve got plenty of time.’

She’d thrown in that last comment so he realised that being a little bit late didn’t matter. It wasn’t like she didn’t try to be on time, but more often than not she failed. She didn’t want to tell him the real reason for her tardiness that evening. That she’d been engrossed in adding herself to the Adoption Contact Register to try to find her birth mother. That was her secret.

‘I’ve put it in the satnav,’ he said as they drove off.

She sat back and enjoyed the smoothness of the ride. His car was far nicer than hers, which is why she’d asked him to pick her up. The old Mini she owned had belonged to an old woman who’d lived down their street. When she’d died, Birdie had bought the car off the estate for three hundred pounds. It was reliable and got her from A to B. But it was what it was, and nothing like the luxury she was experiencing now. She’d love to buy a new car, but she was saving up for a deposit to put down on a place of her own. She’d also got her student loan to pay off, which was a hefty amount even though she had dropped out after two years.

She glanced across at Clifford, whose eyes were focused on the road. For an older guy he looked good, although maybe a bit too perfect, with his chiselled jaw, dark eyes, and that quality that made a person want to keep looking at him. His height and build added to that. He wasn’t her type. She didn’t do perfect. She imagined he wouldn’t be short of offers, though.

He turned his head, catching her staring at him.

‘How was your day?’ she quickly asked, acting like that was her whole purpose in looking in his direction.

‘Quiet. Apart from when I went out for a walk with Elsa, I spent most of the time going through Donald’s records. What about yours? Any interesting cases come in?’

‘Yeah, but not for me,’ she said, letting out a long sigh.

‘Why not?’

Crap. She’d forgotten she hadn’t mentioned it last night. Would he still want her working with him if he found out?

‘If you must know, I got into a bit of trouble and have been put on desk duty for the foreseeable future.’

He glanced at her and frowned. ‘Isn’t that part of your job anyway?’

‘Yes, but usually we take it in turns. At the moment it’s only me.’

‘What did you do?’

‘Let’s just say I had an argument with a skip and the police car I was driving came off worse.’

‘Were you hurt?’

‘Thanks for asking, because not many people did. My boss was more concerned about the car. I was fine. A couple of bruises, that’s all. The problem was, it was all my fault. My mind was on other things and before I