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

stared at her reflection in the mirror, feeling as if she were about to ride a roller coaster. The stomach-churning anticipation must be similar to how she was feeling now. Not that she had ever been on a fairground ride. Gary had promised to take her to the pier, and she would hold him to that. They had grown close over the months, too close on one particular occasion, but they had got through it. At least he hadn’t told anyone about their drunken one-night stand.

‘Does this mean I’ve turned you?’ he’d said, referring to her sexuality. She had snorted, picking at the kebab sauce on her shirt.

‘A leg-over in the club toilets does not constitute turning.’

She’d been curious, that was all. If anything, her time with Gary had left her surer than ever that she was happier being gay. They had laughed about it afterwards, and the awkwardness between them had been replaced by a deepening friendship. She only hoped their drunken one-nighter wasn’t the reason why he was having problems with his girlfriend. She did not want it getting out, not to anyone. But women could sense these things, couldn’t they? It was not one of her finer moments, sleeping with someone’s boyfriend. Her mum would have been delighted. She had always wanted grandchildren. Molly never came out and said she was gay, but she didn’t have to. They knew. Some things were said without words. Molly smoothed back her hair. If her mother had her way, she would be pregnant and married by the time she was twenty-eight. No, actually . . . She paused her train of thought. She wouldn’t want Molly to have kids. It would be too much of a risk. She might pass it on. Do these things pass through your genes? Molly was not so sure . . . Right now, she had more important things on her mind. Today had been manically busy, and the hour she’d had off in the afternoon had left her running behind. Now, night might have fallen but things didn’t end here.

A team of officers were waiting for her, keeping watch near the pier. All they needed was for her to identify the group. This was the night she would betray Matty. Excitement and guilt bloomed: a strange combination of emotions. The highs and lows of working on the high-priority team. The constant worry that it was all going to be taken away. She inhaled a deep breath. Checked her reflection one last time. Should she wear her cap backwards? No, that was trying too hard. She wished she could have infiltrated the gang. But instead, they were going to be brought in. Arrested, if necessary. Then they could be processed and eventually handed over to children’s social care. That’s if none of them admitted to being involved in the murders first.

Molly didn’t want to think about where April had been, or the path laid out for Matty as he took one for the team. The imagery made bile rise in her throat. She tugged on her denim jacket, the one that was frayed and worn. A knock on the door told her that they were ready to go. Another jolt in her stomach. Another flutter of nerves. If her mother could see her now.

‘Coming!’ Molly said, taking one last look around the room. The next time she came back here, it would be done. She only hoped that nobody would get hurt.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Thursday 29 July

Molly stared at the cracks in the pavement as she walked into town. She had passed her DCI, deep in conversation with someone over the phone.

She should have been happy. The sun was warming her back. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. But inside, she was fighting a rising tide of gloom. Last night had been a washout. None of the kids had appeared. In fact, she had not heard from Matty since their FaceTime yesterday, and he wasn’t answering her calls. DI Winter said it wasn’t her fault, but something had spooked them.

Molly had quickly popped out for tea club supplies and to get away. The weekend was coming all too quickly, and their case had grown in momentum. The press were forceful with their questions about the latest death. It wasn’t as if Molly could put an ad out in Sex Offenders Weekly to warn any potential predators planning a trip to the seaside. Her lips thinned at the thought. She was more concerned with helping Matty and his friends before they were moved on. All their leads pointed to them being sold for sex. Matty obviously had no parents to speak of, and here was she, feeling stifled because her anxiety-ridden mother monitored her every move.

In Clacton, she had tasted a life without limitations. When she returned to London, she would look for a flat share. Her wages would stretch to cover rental accommodation, and she had some money saved. She dug her hands into her jacket pockets. That’s if she had a job by then. But the thought quickly evaporated as a figure jumped out from a side alleyway.

‘Jeez, you frightened the crap out of me.’ Molly planted a hand on her chest as Tina appeared.

She appeared bruised and battered, the look on her face murderous. She had figured out her identity. Molly was forced to step back as Tina pushed her with both hands on the chest.

‘What have you done with him, you filthy copper? Seventeen, my backside.’ Tina’s words were laced with spittle, her jaw set tight.

Molly drew breath. ‘Who? Are you talking about? Matty?’

But Tina was still ranting. ‘Don’t try and deny it. I know who you are.’ There was fear behind her bravado. Tina was scared.

Molly pointed to the station from where she had come. ‘Come back with me. I can help.’

‘You what?’ Tina delivered a bitter laugh. ‘You really think I’m going to speak to your lot now? It’s because of you that Matty’s missing. I told him