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could see where they had started out as just asking when she was going to be home. It was on Sunday they went into full-blown panic.

Sarah. Please, just tell me you’re okay.

Sarah, I’m starting to get worried.

ANSWER YOUR PHONE!

Please? Sarah?

There weren’t too many more after she was reported missing. Once the report had been put on file and Laura had started posting things on social media with reckless abandon, Kidd imagined she’d given up on trying to reach her daughter by text.

The next ones down were the ones from her dad. And it was a different sight entirely.

“Bloody hell,” Janya said.

“What?” Kidd asked, leaning in a little bit closer.

She handed him the phone and Kidd read the messages her dad been sending her.

Don’t you say a bloody word.

You need to get home now. Stop attention seeking, your mum is worried sick.

Don’t you breathe one word of this to anyone.

Sarah!

Answer me!

DI Kidd handed the phone back to DC Ravel. “Could you download all the messages, get them all put together as part of the file?” he asked before turning to Zoe. “I think we need to get Norman Kaye and Chris Harper back in. Letting them go the other night was premature.”

“I’ll say,” Zoe said, looking over Janya’s shoulder at the messages on the phone screen. “Do you reckon Sarah found out he was fucking the headteacher?”

“That seems likely,” Kidd said. “Just in case we needed any more things happening in this case, we’ve now got a dad threatening his child. It’s all looking a little bit—”

The door to the Incident Room swung open, clattering into the coat stand and announcing the arrival of DCI Weaver. DI Kidd did his best not to sigh too obviously. He was trying to get this done, the last thing he needed was DCI Weaver breathing down his neck every step of the way. It was always a heck of a lot easier when he cleared off to his office and let Kidd get on with things.

“Where the bloody hell is my arrest?” he asked. Well, asked was definitely putting it mildly. It was more of a demand.

“We’re working on it,” Kidd replied flatly. He didn’t need this right now. “And a good morning to you too, sir,” he added, smiling at the beast of a man as he strode into the room. DCI Weaver didn’t budge, his face fixed in a grimace like the wind had changed and left him that way…since birth.

“Not what I wanted to hear, Kidd,” Weaver replied. “I’ve got the Superintendent wanting me to make an arrest and announce it to the public. I’ve got Laura Harper talking about us online and making us…you…me…look bad. Get someone in here and get them charged. Where are we on that?”

“We had Dexter Black yesterday,” Kidd said. “We had his story corroborated by Nicholas and the fact that his parents kept him locked up in his house,” Kidd continued. “They weren’t too happy with some of the websites he’d been looking at, so they decided the right thing to do was act as prison officers and stop their son from leaving the house.”

“And he found the body how?”

“An unfortunate coincidence.”

“I fucking hate coincidences,” Weaver growled.

“I’ve got the statements,” Kidd replied. “Dexter Black hadn’t been out of his house all weekend. He didn’t even go to school. He’s off the hook. We’re working on the other leads and we’re working as quickly as we can. Right now you’ve just wasted five minutes that could have been better spent trying to find the fucker who has done this. Any further questions?”

Weaver grumbled and was about to turn out of the room when he caught sight of the evidence board. He strode over to it, Kidd walking from around the computer and joining him, staring at the pictures that had been plaguing them for the past few days.

Their suspect list had gotten a heck of a lot shorter, only pictures of Norman Kaye and Chris Harper remained, but neither one of them really sat right with DI Kidd. There was something he was missing, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t have the proof he needed for either of them to wrap up the case. Even if he got them in for a little chat, he didn’t have the grounds for an arrest.

Not yet anyway.

“How are we getting on?” DCI Weaver said quietly. “I don’t like this, Kidd. I don’t like that we don’t seem to be getting anywhere.”

“We’re getting somewhere, boss,” Kidd replied. “It’s taking a little longer than I would like, but we’re crossing people off the list. We’ve got it narrowed down.”

“And where’s your money?”

Kidd stared at the board one more time. “My money is in a safe place, boss,” he replied. “I’m not a gambling man.”

“Odds not good enough for you?”

“Not quite yet, sir,” he replied. “But I’ll get there.

DCI Weaver let out a heavy sigh. “You better,” he said. “And fast. Mrs Harper has been posting again.”

“You’re joking,” Kidd said. “What now?”

“She went live last night, after everything that had happened, doesn’t think we’re doing enough, doesn’t think she’s being kept in the loop with the investigation,” Weaver said. “She’s got a bloody FLO there for crying out loud. Caitlyn is rushed off her feet, always feeding her information when she can, trying to calm her down but it’s not enough. The socials have gone insane, Diane has been fielding calls from the media all bloody morning.”

“Right, sir, I’ll get on it,” Kidd replied. “We’ll…we’ll figure something out.”

DC Simon Powell stood up from his desk at that moment, knocking a mug of tea and sending it flying across the room, cold tea covering the floor. DI Kidd was about to bark at him to get it cleaned up when he saw the look on the lad’s face. He looked panicked. And while that might have been his default state most of the time, Kidd didn’t like it one bit.

“What is it, Simon?” Kidd asked, moving towards his

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