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

Wes was in trouble, and he needed her help. ‘Just be nice to them,’ he’d said. ‘All they want is a kiss and a cuddle. Who wouldn’t, with a gorgeous girl like you?’

Of course, it hadn’t just happened like that. It had taken her a while to get him to open up about what was really wrong. And now they were huddling under the umbrella as she prised the truth out of him. Mo relayed the story to Ms Harkness. She wanted every detail, every description laid to paper.

‘I can’t do it,’ Mo said, the smell of salt and vinegar rising from the plastic bag full of chips and sausages as she huddled it close to her chest. ‘And if you love me you wouldn’t want me to flirt with your friends.’

‘You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked.’ Wes dragged a hit of nicotine from his cigarette. ‘I’m finishing us. This. It’s over.’ He blew the smoke from the corner of his mouth, watching her intensely.

‘But . . . you said you loved me!’ The tears Mo had been holding in were now trailing down her face. ‘What have I done wrong? I . . . I don’t understand.’ Suddenly, her emotions were too big for her immature mind, and she sobbed as a hiccup caught in her throat.

‘Babe, it’s best we keep it that way. The less you know, the better.’ Wes stroked her hair. ‘I’m in deep shit, and it was wrong to get you involved.’ He’d sighed as he touched her necklace. All that stuff I bought you. It didn’t come for free.’

‘So, you owe money? Is that all it is?’

‘Is that all?’ Wes thumbed away her tears. ‘Babe. You don’t understand. I ain’t talking about the banks. These are loan sharks, nasty bastards. They’ll break my neck if I don’t keep them sweet.’

‘Then work out a way of paying them back.’ She was trembling now, her heart breaking into tiny pieces inside her chest.

Flicking his cigarette on to the pavement, Wes stubbed it out with his trainer. ‘I have . . . I can. But the debt’s grown too big. They’ll give me a beating. Make an example of me.’

‘There must be a way.’

‘There is, but . . .’ He paused, his look holding a pinch of regret. ‘No. I can’t ask.’

‘What? Name it. Whatever I can do to help.’

‘Remember those guys at the party? The ones with the nice gaff? Well, they’re the blokes I wanted you to be nice to. They like you,’ he said. ‘A lot.’

Mo remembered. Their house had been a far cry from the squats that Wes had taken her to before. They’d had a hot tub, alcohol was free-flowing, and people were having sex in the bedrooms. Mo had felt intimidated, as these men were in their fifties or older. She had asked to leave, and Wes hadn’t spoken to her for a week afterwards. Then he’d asked her to be nice to his ‘friends’. It all made sense now. Those people were rich because they were criminals. Wes needed Mo to smooth things over with them. It was a no-brainer as far as she was concerned.

‘Just name the time and place.’ She gave her boyfriend a watery smile, almost dropping the bag of chips as he drew her in for a kiss. She had got used to them now. She had got used to a lot of things.

‘There’s a party next week,’ Wes said, as he let her go. ‘They’ve told me to be there. I wasn’t going to go, but if you’re by my side, then they might let me off. But you need to be nice to them, Mo. No running away.’

Mo strained to remember the men he was talking about as he described them. One of them had been naked in the hot tub, drinking champagne and smoking cigars. He had two acquaintances, their arms around young girls barely older than her. She hadn’t liked the way their eyes had trailed over her as she walked around. Wes was telling the truth when he said they had a thing for her. But there was no way she would let him end their relationship because he had dug himself into a hole. Besides, she was partially to blame. He had spent so much of that money on her. She couldn’t desert Wes now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Molly’s eyes were bright, her face animated as Amy entered the office. Amy had seen that look before. She had stumbled upon a lead and could barely contain herself. Normally she would follow Amy into her office to share what she had found, but given they were all working out of one room, there was no such luxury.

‘Can I have a quick word in private, ma’am?’ she said. Paddy and Gary were working at their computers, heads down, while Steve and Donovan were chasing up their Mr Anonymous. Amy knew that Molly was competitive and did not like to share too soon. She couldn’t blame her for that. Their old DCI, Ma’am Pike, had a habit of taking credit for other people’s ideas in the early stages of an investigation, but Amy wanted a team who trusted each other enough to be open about what they had found. She was about to tell her to share it with the team, when she paused. Molly had not been herself lately. She had picked up on a sense of unease between her and her mother. Perhaps this was a personal problem.

‘Walk with me,’ Amy said, turning back into the corridor. She saw a lot of herself in Molly, but she had yet to figure out if it was a good thing. Would she be as hardened and cynical as her in ten, maybe twenty years? Amy’s walls had been built long before she discovered her true bloodlines. You gave your all to a job like this, and each year that passed, it chipped a little piece of you away.

Amy’s growing suspicions regarding the male victims in the case bothered her. Carla had given up her life