Blood Loss by Kerena Swan (brene brown rising strong .txt) 📗

is a deal to Derek and he won’t go back on his word. I cover my glowing pink skin with pyjamas and a dressing gown then pull the DNA testing kit from under my pillow.

Maybe I shouldn’t have used the mouthwash. I might contaminate the evidence. I’ll wait for a while and read the instructions again. I posted a swab stick and a return envelope to Dad this morning after triple-checking the unique reference number on the return envelope to ensure it marries up with my sample. The leaflet says I should get Mum’s saliva sample as well. She’ll refuse if I ask her, but maybe I can do it without her knowing.

I pick up a sample stick and tissue then tiptoe down the stairs to where she’s lying on the sofa. Her head is tipped back and she’s snoring with her mouth open. Perfect. I creep towards her and deftly wipe the stick inside her cheek. She shakes her head then blearily opens her eyes.

‘Wha…? What are you doing?’

I wipe the side of her mouth with the tissue and hold the stick behind my back with the other hand. ‘You were dribbling again, Mum. Come on. You need to go to bed.’

She sits up and puts her feet on the floor, her head hanging down and her face hidden by her hair, then she lurches forward and stands up, swaying slightly. I hold her arm as she makes her way to the stairs.

‘You’re a good girl, Sarah. I may not have told you this but…’ She grabs the handrail and puts her foot on the first tread three times before moving forward again.

‘But what?’

‘Eh?’

‘You started to say something.’

‘Did I?’

‘Yes. You said, “I may not have told you this but…”. What else were you going to say?’ We’re halfway up the stairs now.

‘Oh, yes. I was going to say I may not have told you this, but you’re my special girl. My special, darling girl.’

I don’t know whether I’m pleased or disappointed. Mum has rarely said loving words to me over the years, probably to stay on Dad’s good side, so this would have warmed my soul a while back. But I thought she was going to tell me something about my parentage.

I guide her to her room and leave her sprawled on the bed then go to my own room to put her saliva sample in the envelope provided. I run downstairs and have a drink of water then allow saliva to build up in my mouth before taking my own sample. I’ll post them first thing in the morning.

Back in my room, I lie on the bed and stare at the cracks in the ceiling. Robert’s death comes into my mind and I wonder if I’d have coped with his rejection of me better if I hadn’t spent my entire life feeling unloved. Perhaps. Not that it makes Robert any the less to blame for what happened. He was a low-life fraud who deserved what he got, and the world is better off without him.

Hang on, though. If my suspicions are wrong and the tests prove John Butcher is actually my father, then might I have inherited his temper and violent tendencies, like I’ve previously wondered. No, that’s ridiculous. I don’t enjoy violence at all. I want a peaceful, happy life with someone I love. Someone who loves me back. When I know who I am, I’m going to move forward and build a new and positive life. Not long to wait now. Not long until everything becomes clear.

Chapter 27

March | DI Paton

The lane was deserted this time, and no longer speckled with snow. No doubt the journalists had taken all the pictures they needed and wrung every detail of newsworthy significance from the scene before moving on to the next human road crash. Paton wondered if the Tay Killer, as the press had named him or her – was checking the news daily to see if the police were any nearer to catching them. They’d know the police had discovered the victim’s identity but they wouldn’t know the police had CCTV of their car at the hotel in Paisley and were trying to locate silver Fiestas. He pondered over what the killer might be doing now. Was he or she trying to destroy evidence or set up an alibi? Flee the country even?

Paton mulled over the forensic findings again. The presence of vaginal fluid and the lack of space in the room for a third person strongly indicated a woman suspect but had the sex happened some time before the killing? The lack of tyre tracks in and out of the property suggested there were only two people there. Unless the killer and the woman left together? Hopefully, a long look at the crime scene would reveal some clues.

Cheryl and Paton bounced in their seats as the car bumped along the track. He turned into the driveway of the cabin and climbed out of the car, massaging his back.

‘I think that last pothole has done me an injury,’ he said. ‘I just hope it hasn’t knackered the suspension.’

Cheryl stopped beside him and tapped the tyre with the toe of her boot. ‘At least it’s the company car, boss.’ She looked sideways at him and he laughed. ‘What are you hoping to find here?’ she asked.

‘Enlightenment, of course.’ He grinned at her then walked towards the front door.

The crime scene tape had been taken down and the cleaners had been in so there wouldn’t be any blood today, thank God. The cabin remained unlet, though. No one but the macabre would want to stay somewhere a murder had recently taken place. Before he entered the cabin, Paton stood and listened. Nothing but birdsong and the wind sighing in the trees. Not even a car in the distance. A scream would go unnoticed out here.

Paton unlocked the door and they stepped inside. The place smelled like the swimming pool he visited as a kid – of chlorine and