Catching the Ice Queen Page 9

  ‘Still looking for a place to live, then?’ he said, reading the page upside down.

  ‘Yeah. My landlady has found a buyer so I need to be out asap.’ The ‘For Sale’ board had hardly been up five minutes before the cocky little estate agent had been replacing it with ‘Sold’. The thought of it made Robin depressed. ‘You wouldn’t believe the rents people want for tiny, tiny spaces,’ she went on. ‘Either that or the place is filled with low-lifes.’

  He snorted. ‘Have you asked Debbie Atherton from Traffic? I’m sure I heard her whittering on the other day about needing an extra body for her house-share.’

  She sat up. ‘Really?’ She knew Debbie very vaguely. ‘I’ll go and hunt her down now.’

  He crooked a smile at her. ‘You won’t have to hunt very far, detective. She’s over there.’ His beefy finger pointed across to the food counter where the solid policewoman was taking a big plateful of macaroni cheese. Ten minutes later the deal was done: assuming Robin liked the house when she went round after their shifts that evening then the room was her’s. A huge feeling of relief washed over her, making her almost giddy.

  ‘Listen up!’ DCI Goode was shouting. ‘We need some bodies to assist with an arrest this afternoon. Anyone interested?’

  ‘I will!’ she was on her feet before Lydia and Tomas got their frowns on. She tried to beam across the room her absolute desperation to do something, anything, other than forensic accounting for a couple of hours. Goode half-laughed.

  ‘Alright, Tweetie, keep your hair on. Now, who else?’

  Quite a few hands shot up – everyone was feeling frustrated that the latest murder was getting them nowhere in the Ice Queen enquiry. Robin grinned impulsively at another DC and for once got a semblance of a smile in return. My luck is definitely improving, she beamed to herself. And going off on a shout with the rest of CID might remind them that I am part of the team.

  ‘OK, shut up.’ Keith Bolton took over. ‘Today we’re after Tony Philips. He’s an all-round thug and his photo has been picked out by the postman who witnessed Gary Greenway being beaten up as in the days before his death. He’s got form for other assaults and rumour is that he’ll punch your granny for fifty quid.’

  ‘Kind of a gun for hire, then?’ called a voice from the back.

  Keith scowled at the room. ‘More of a pool cue for hire. We’re going to pick him up and squeeze him, and see what pops out.’ The potential that he might give up Sylvie Dean or one of her cronies hung unspoken on the air, but they all knew that was the real reason for today’s action.

  Robin felt the familiar surge of adrenaline as she and the others made their way downstairs and climbed into the back of three unmarked vans. This was why she was a police officer, and not an accountant or a restaurant owner, this delicious sense of danger. Funny, I never thought of myself as a risk taker, she realised as she adjusted the heavy stab-proof vest she was wearing and gripped an extendable baton. For some reason her mind flicked to Lara Black. Maybe I should take a risk there, too. I think she’s interested, but if I ask her out and she isn’t then what’s the worst that could happen? She frowned and tried to shake away the distraction. Don’t think about this now! Around her she could see her colleagues making their own preparations. This bloke could be nasty, and they were taking no chances.

  The van slammed to a stop and the driver yelled: ‘Go now!’

  Robin grinned to herself and jumped out, and almost immediately realised that something had gone horribly wrong.

  The plan had been that they’d rush in and overwhelm the suspect while he was in the street’s little betting shop, but again some wicked magic seemed to have pre-warned him. He was there, all right, but with a dozen of his mates. The first wave of police were met with the cracking sound of baseball bats on heads and she saw two or three officers drop to the pavement. DCI Goode shouted some command that she couldn’t hear, but even as he spoke everything disintegrated into shouting and pushing, ugly faces distorted by feral grimaces, the cracks of batons on wrists, and screams from both sides. Excitement turned instantly to fear as she struggled to keep her feet, and for what felt like an eternity she was buffeted here and there by the shoves of the struggling men before a sharp push in her back sent her spinning into Tony Philips himself. On autopilot she raised her own extendable baton and whacked him across the knees, making him howl with the sudden pain, but as she raised her arm for a second strike something grabbed her wrist and twisted her around.

  ‘Bitch!’ shouted a man as his fist slammed into her face. Robin had a split second of seeing the world spin dizzyingly on its axis, and then everything went black.

  Chapter 10

  ‘What was the final tally?’ Robin asked dully, sitting very still with an icepack pressed to her eye. Her head boomed with the regular beat of her pulse, magnified to hideous volume and ripping through her skull as pure pain.

  DS Bolton occupied the chair next to her in the hospital waiting room. His face sported a wide strip of plaster, which she knew hid a gash from a Stanley knife. ‘Eight walking wounded, including us. Three being kept in for observation.’ He shot her a look with a bloodshot eye. ‘As you should be, too. Being knocked out is not nothing.’

  ‘I know. I just hate hospitals.’ She suddenly remembered how ill his wife was. ‘God, sorry, Keith. Have you called Muriel?’

  He snorted. ‘She was not amused. Her sister’s with her tonight.’ He shuffled his feet. ‘She wanted to know what I was thinking, going out on a dangerous shout with just a couple more weeks to go in the job.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Didn’t need to say anything. She knew it was my last hurrah, really.’ He looked old and tired, and Robin reached over and squeezed his hand. ‘Ow. That hurts.’

  She winced and stretched her fingers, which were sporting a purpling bruise. ‘It hurt me too, if that’s any consolation.’

  ‘Bugger all,’ he said, but almost smiled. ‘Anyway, DCC Black will be wanting to speak to all of us about this fiasco.’ Robin looked away, apparently considering a long scuff on the toe of her boot. ‘But nobody’s got you in the frame for being the grass, though.’ She looked round at him and grunted as the pain caught up and slammed into her brain. ‘You were in plain view the whole time, and didn’t make any calls.’

  ‘Well, that’s something.’

  ‘Good looking woman, that Lara Black,’ said Bolton unexpectedly.

  ‘Uhuh.’

  He twisted in his seat and grinned, looking like his old, wicked self. ‘Is that all you can say? ‘Uhuh’?’ Annoyingly, she felt herself blush, which made the DS laugh his head off.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ the Deputy Chief Constable’s cool voice cut through his chuckles and Robin felt her face go even redder. ‘Detective Sargent?’

  She was tall and serene, and if she had been wearing almost anything other than the dark blue uniform Robin thought people would easily mistake her for an angel. She’d certainly appeared out of nowhere like a heavenly visitor.

  ‘Just hysteria, ma’am. Pay it no mind.’ Keith straightened his features into a half-frown.

  The woman turned and looked Robin over.

  ‘And you, DC Sullivan. How’s the head?’

  ‘Only a bit bashed, ma’am.’ Surely she couldn’t call her ‘Lara’ in these circumstances?

  ‘No concussion?’

  ‘Probably not. I just need to take it easy for a few hours.’

  ‘Is there – somebody who can keep an eye on you?’ Was that hesitation in her voice? ‘Concussion can be dangerous.’

  ‘My landlady.’ Robin felt an unaccountable urge to explain more fully. ‘She’s retired, so she’s got the time to make sure I’m ok.’

  ‘Good.’ There was an awkward moment of silence. ‘Where’s DCI Goode?’

  ‘Getting his arm plastered, ma’am.’ Keith pointed towards a closed door. ‘It’s broken in two places.’

  ‘What a bloody mess.’ Robin was very aware of how close Lara Black was
standing. I could just stretch out my hand and touch her, came the thought, unbidden into her mind. She blinked. What am I thinking? My brain must be more scrambled than I thought.

  Abruptly Keith Bolton levered himself to his feet. ‘I’ll go and see how long he’s going to be, ma’am,’ he announced, and shuffled over to the closed door and let himself through. As it banged shut behind him Robin blinked and found Lara Black had sat down on the chair he’d vacated.

  ‘How are you, really?’ There was no mistaking the concern in her voice this time. Again Robin had an overwhelming impulse to reach out, hold her hand, something, that she only just mastered. She looked up and saw worry on the other woman’s face. A fierce protectiveness shot through her. She wanted to make that anxiety go away.

  ‘It’s not that bad, honestly.’ She lowered the ice pack and Lara winced at the sight of her eye. ‘Hey, don’t knock it: the black-eyed-pirate look is all the rage this season. I think it suits me.’

  The comment won a faint smile, before Lara reached over and traced her fingertips gently over Robin’s battered face.

  ‘You look beautiful as you are, you don’t need to become a fashion victim.’ Robin held her breath as electricity danced across her sore cheek under the touch. The pale hand dropped into the woman’s lap with an air of defeat, and before she knew what she was doing her own hand had reached across and squeezed it. After a pause where Robin could swear her heart had stopped beating she felt Lara’s cool fingers wrap around her own. I am holding hands with the Deputy Chief Constable, she thought, listening to her pulse re-start and accelerate.

  ‘Are you sure you’re going to be alright?’ Lara’s voice was so sad and low that Robin had to lean forward to hear it. She was opening her mouth to reply when she noticed that the forward motion had not stopped, but instead had lurched crazily sideways. She saw the woman’s blue, blue eyes open wide with shock and her voice came distorted into her ears: ‘Robin! Robin!’ An arm shot around her shoulders and took her weight, but it was ok because Robin was weightless, just made of thin air, really, and she smiled as everything softly soaked away into darkness.

  It was another fourteen hours before the doctors agreed that Robin could go home. She grabbed her bag and shuffled gingerly to the exit, wincing at the brightness of the morning outside. Sometime in the night Keith had shambled into her cubicle to say goodbye, his brother-in-law having come out to collect him.

  ‘I can come back in the morning and pick you up,’ he’d said. She had smiled, not wanting to risk shaking her head.

  ‘Don’t be daft, Muriel would have my guts for garters.’

  ‘Well, that is true.’ He patted her hand awkwardly. ‘Take care, then.’

  Now she wished that he had come back, as leaving the hospital by herself was making her feel lonely and bitterly sad. Don’t be childish, she reprimanded herself. Just get in a cab and go back to Sue’s. The memory of Lara Black’s hand in hers looped in her brain on endless repeat, but in the harsh light of day Robin wasn’t sure if she hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. Wishful thinking, that’s what it was.

  ‘Robin!’ She turned towards the voice, not wanting to believe what her ears were telling her. But it was true: Lara Black was walking quickly towards her, waving. ‘Robin!’

  She stopped and waited for the other woman to catch up. Robin couldn’t stop herself from absorbing every detail of her: the golden hair flowing around her shoulders, aglow in the morning sun, the pale, beautiful face, the trim body shown off in all its glory under a tight grey polo neck and pair of black soft trousers. But it was the blue eyes that held her captive, shining with surprise and something very like delight.

  ‘Hi,’ was all Robin could manage, her mouth dry.

  Lara smiled, real happiness showing on her face. ‘The A&E people said you’d already gone. I thought I’d missed you.’ She was very close, and then she’d closed the gap between them to fold Robin into a quick hug. It was over as soon as it had happened, but Robin’s body burned from the contact. Gently Lara took her bag from Robin’s hand and they walked through the doors and into the Spring morning.

  ‘My car’s parked over here.’ It was a lovely day but Robin found her steps getting more and more uncertain as they moved down the path towards the car park.

  ‘I’m not moving very fast today.’ Try and sound normal, for God’s sake, she counselled herself.

  Lara looked across and pushed her arm through Robin’s, holding her close. ‘I’ve got you. Do you need to sit down?’ A pair of nurses walked past in the opposite direction and smiled at them. Robin felt Lara’s arm tense, but it didn’t let go.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Robin thoughts whirled unhelpfully in a million directions. ‘Are you sure you want to be seen with me like this?’

  Lara looked at her and didn’t answer for a second. Then she said firmly. ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to be grumpy.’

  ‘You don’t sound grumpy. You sound like a woman with concussion.’

  They reached the dark blue Golf and Lara helped Robin sit in the passenger seat. Her hands were soft and caring as they adjusted the belt and flipped the sun visor down to shade her sensitive eyes from the morning glare. Her long blonde hair flopped against her shoulders, and Robin had inhaled its heady scent before she could stop herself. This is all crazy, she thought, sitting very still and trying not to break whatever spell seemed to be working. When the other woman was herself seated and was expertly piloting the car away Robin said:

  ‘I can’t believe you came to pick me up. That’s really kind of you.’

  The blue eyes cast a look across at her and Robin blinked, trying not to get lost in them. ‘I owed you a hospital trip, I think.’ Right, of course, that’s all it is. She swallowed and tried to ignore the wave of disappointment that coursed through her. As if reading her mind, Lara reached across and squeezed her hands. ‘And I wanted to. I –‘ She took back the hand from Robin’s astonished grasp and turned the steering wheel. ‘I like you.’ Her face had blushed faintly pink. ‘I’d like to get to know you better.’

  ‘I like you too.’ Understatement of the century. Then Robin shook her head. ‘Sorry, I think that crack on the skull has given me delusions. Is this actually happening? Am I really in this car with you?’

  Lara laughed, and it was such a sexy sound that Robin’s body immediately responded. She bit her lip and tried not to let her face show how much she wanted to stop the car and peel that jumper off and--

  ‘It is really happening.’ The other woman was smiling, happiness and uncertainty warring on her face. ‘Is that ok? I haven’t been too pushy?’

  ‘Pushy?’ Robin’s look of pure astonishment made Lara laugh again, and the awkwardness of the moment faded away. ‘No, you haven’t been pushy.’ They were nearly at Sue’s now and recognising the journey to be almost over made Robin reckless. ‘You’ve been confusing, and mysterious, and kind and very, very beautiful, but you’ve not been pushy.’ The car drew up to the curb and the front door opened. As her landlady surged down the steps in a flap of worry Robin turned to Lara anxiously. ‘Was that too much?’

  Lara smiled and cupped Robin’s cheek with her cool fingers, just for a second. ‘It was lovely.’ She glanced out of the window and took her hand away. ‘Your landlady is about to pop.’

  Robin looked round and saw Sue’s anxious face pressed up against the glass. She opened the door, Lara coming round to help her with her bag.

  ‘Oh Robin! Are you ok? I’ve been so worried! I’ve hardly slept a wink….’ Robin let herself be hugged by Sue and then tuned her out. She turned back to Lara Black, who was standing with her hand on the car roof, ready to get in and go.

  ‘Can we meet up soon? Go for a walk or something?’ It’s too late to try not to sound desperate. The woman smiled a slow smile that spiked Robin’s pulse and made her mouth go dry.

  ‘Definitely,’ she said.

  After a couple of days cooped up at home with Sue fussing like a mother hen, Robi
n was desperate to get out. She still hadn’t seen the room that she’d signed up to take, but fortunately the lure of getting her housing situation sorted out was enough leverage to make her landlady let her out of the house.

  ‘You will be careful, won’t you?’ she flapped as Robin climbed into Mickey’s battered car for the short drive across town. She squinted through the window at Robin’s friend. ‘You will take care of her? Promise me?’

  ‘Yes, Sue.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Harbottle.’ Mickey grinned and tooted the horn as they shot off, and then they both laughed.

  ‘Oh dear, she does fret!’

  ‘I know, but she means well.’ Robin was fond of Sue. ‘She’s in a state because she feels she’s throwing me out of the house when I’m at death’s door.’ Mickey whizzed through a set of traffic lights that had just gone to red. ‘Hey, I may be off sick but I’m still a copper!’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’

  Robin’s phone beeped. She smiled as she read another message from Lara. Since dropping her off the other day she’d been texting regularly. At first it had just been general enquiries about how Robin was doing, but soon the messages had deepened to become tiny conversations about the world and their lives. Robin had begun to feel close to the other woman, and she was starting to get nervous about whether those feelings would translate into their face-to-face meeting later. Or perhaps she just had butterflies at the thought of seeing Lara again. She tried to put all that aside as she tapped out her reply.

  Looking forward to seeing you later.

  A moment later came the response:

  Me too.

  Robin caught her friend giving her a calculating look. ‘So…. Who is she? I’m assuming she’s not that fantastic blonde from the club who nearly got you the sack.’

  ‘God no!’ Robin shuddered at the thought of Sylvie Dean undulating across the dance floor like a predator. ‘She’s somebody from work.’