Flesh and Blood (A DI Amy Winter Thriller) by Caroline Mitchell (best love novels of all time .TXT) 📗

victim’s autopsies. Ray wasn’t stepping on anyone’s toes. His papers had been published in many medical journals. His colleagues in the field were delighted to liaise with him, particularly when it came to the death of a police officer. It was all hands on deck as far as Amy was concerned.

‘Good to hear from you, Winter,’ Ray said, as he answered their pre-arranged call. ‘How are things at home?’ It was the first thing he always asked her, regardless of what was going on. His voice was loud and jolly, despite the late hour of the night.

‘Good, thanks.’ It was also Amy’s stock reply. As much as she loved chatting with Ray, she wanted to get to the crux of things. ‘But we’re under a lot of pressure to solve this case. The press is making out I’m some kind of Superwoman since the TV documentary was aired. And, well, you know how tough it is when one of your own is taken.’ Amy had never met Carla; they weren’t even in the same force. But that was how it was in the police. The band of brother- and sisterhood didn’t just apply to officers in the same county, or even country. It stretched worldwide. An unspoken bond between officers. A promise to have each other’s backs. Which was why it hurt so much when one of them was taken. Amy knew some officers would be blaming themselves for not being there when Carla was murdered. But Amy’s intuition screamed that Carla knew that her suspect would be there. Yet she chose not to call it in. Now it was up to Amy to prove who she was meeting and why.

‘You’re more Wonder Woman, I think. A pint-sized one,’ Ray chuckled at the end of the line. Amy let him off. His remark about her height was good-natured in intent.

‘If only I had her golden lasso,’ she said. Her old family used to call her ‘pocket rocket’, but that was not a term she wanted to be reminded of any more.

‘So, you’re hoping I can shed some light on things?’ Ray’s voice cut into her wandering thoughts. ‘You’ve read the autopsy reports, I take it.’

‘Yes,’ Amy replied. ‘But not as thoroughly as I’d like. What’s your take on it, Ray? Do you think Carla or any of the other victims were murdered?’ Amy nibbled on her bottom lip as she awaited his response.

‘I can’t say if Carla was murdered. Cause of death was drowning. From all accounts, she wasn’t much of a swimmer, and her clothing weighed her down. There was nothing in the way of defence wounds. Carla was petite. It wouldn’t have taken a strenuous struggle to tip her over the edge.’

‘And there were no other injuries?’

‘Nothing concerning her death. But I flagged up something of interest with the other victims.’

Amy’s heart pulsed a little faster as a flare of hope grew. ‘Oh yes? What’s that?’

‘The tiniest pinprick. You’d only see it if you were searching for it.’ Ray spoke with a sense of pride. ‘And you know me, I like a challenge.’

‘Tell me more,’ Amy replied. ‘Do you think they’d been jabbed?’

‘It’s possible. With enough drugs to make breathing difficult when submerged in the sea.’

Amy’s forehead creased in confusion. ‘But we’ve had the tox reports back. Chesney was the only person with drugs in his system and he smoked cannabis.’ The information didn’t sit right. She needed to know more.

‘But that was a cheap basic screening,’ Ray continued. ‘I’ve ordered a more in-depth one.’

‘Because your theory is . . .’ Amy waited for Ray to finish her sentence.

‘That the victims were injected before they died. These weren’t self-administered. One was in the buttock, another in the back. This is the link you’ve been waiting for.’

‘Hopefully you’ll find something in the tox reports.’ Amy grinned to herself. ‘Ray, you’re a little beauty.’

Booming laughter carried down the phone. ‘First time for everything, Winter!’

Another thought occurred. ‘So, say they were needle marks. Any idea of the height of the person administering them?’

‘Given the angle, I’d say the killer wasn’t much more than five, five and a half feet tall.’

‘Interesting stuff,’ Amy replied, smiling down the phone. ‘I look forward to reading your report.’

‘Winging its way to you now.’ Ray paused for breath. ‘Donovan was telling me about Carla’s voicemail and how the CCTV was vandalised the night she died. Sounds like she got in over her head.’

‘Only some of the cameras were spray-painted . . .’ Amy’s voice faltered as a thought entered her head. ‘Sorry,’ she said, as Ray asked if she was OK. ‘I’ve just realised. Only some of the cameras were vandalised the night Carla died.’

‘Not much point in buggering them all up, I suppose,’ Ray chuckled.

‘Maybe so,’ Amy said. ‘But two of them were faulty to begin with, and they weren’t sprayed. How did they know which ones were working?’

As their call came to an end, Amy summarised the evidence so far. Carla left her home to meet a teenager with regards to a case. A case she had been investigating on the quiet. She was lured to the pier, the CCTV disabled prior to her getting there. A text was sent from her phone around the same time she was seen in the water.

Finally, they were making connections that were growing the deeper they delved. She thought about the puncture marks and the possible use of a drug that might not show up on a basic toxicology report. Whoever was behind this was good at covering their tracks. But Amy had the bit between her teeth and had no intention of letting go. At least now she had justification to continue with her search.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It could have been down to Molly’s freckles, or her choice of clothing, but she had always appeared young for her age. Tonight, she reckoned she could get away with looking under eighteen. She often got asked for ID when buying booze, and thanks to the groups she accessed on social media,