Free Shallow Waters by Rebecca Bradley

useful, Ethan.” I looked at him, narrowing my eyes,
letting him know I was serious. “This one, as I've already said, is
sensitive, you can't go barging in and printing details we don't want
releasing.”
    Ethan dropped his chin and raised his eyes at me. “Han?”
    “OK,
but take it easy.” He needed to be sensitive to our case. To my case.
This was important. I worried what would happen if there was a choice
between his career and mine. We weren't in what either of us would call
a settled relationship; I think we just established that. We rarely
spoke about the serious issues or about how we were feeling and I was
as guilty of this as he was. It was easier to take the ride. There was
a closeness though, something there, but I struggled with the issue of
trust. It was something that needed to be worked through. 
    The
last of the wine was drained and I lay back on the bed and looked at
Ethan. His arms were crossed behind his head, a relaxed stance,
comfortable. A body language of trust. I needed to trust him, I was
starting to care. I nudged my head back into the crook of his arm and
closed my eyes. Images danced in front of them.  Distorted
children with trash and hospital mortuaries. All blending together.
     

 
    23
     
    The
incident room was quiet and still. Like an early morning pond before
the wildlife wakes and creates the ripples and sound that fills their
day.  I'd raised myself from an empty bed again. Nothing had
changed.
    I
searched out Grey, who kept longer hours than anyone, including me. He
was sharp as far as keeping on top of things went. He'd be aware of
every angle of the ongoing investigation, every progress made and every
step in the planning. He was meticulous and organised. A climber.
    He was at his desk, squinting, eyebrows tucked down as he read from his computer monitor.
    “Morning, sir,” I said from the doorway.
    “Morning, Hannah.” He waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk. “Come in.”
    I
sat opposite him and watched as he finished reading. The small lines
running across his forehead looked like ripples in the sand after a
heavy storm. He looked up.
    “What's the current update?”
    My
phone vibrated in my pocket. “Sorry sir, let me just check this.” Grey
nodded and went back to his work. I fished it out and checked the
screen. Caller withheld. “Robbins.”
    Silence.
    “Hello. DI Robbins.”
    Silence.
    The
lit screen showed that the call was still open. Grey watched. I said
hello to the caller once more before hanging up and moving on.
    “Rosie
Green has been identified by her parents. It gives us something to work
with. I'm holding a team briefing this morning and I'm going to push
forensics to see where they're at.”
    Grey's
eyes narrowed. We both knew forensic science had to be taken in context
of any given situation and wasn't the be all and end all of answers. He
was feeling the pressure from the top. The Chief Constable was watching
the case. Any negative press on the force was always a blow in these
times of accountability. It affected job security and everyone wanted
to cover themselves as much as they wanted to do the right thing. 
    “We're putting in the hours, sir. Everyone is giving this everything they have.”
    Grey
nodded. These things could take time and time was something the press
was reluctant to give a police force in the murder investigation of a
child.
    “We need something positive, Hannah. Find out what happened to her.”
    “Now
we have the definitive ID we can work on her history, her friends,
family, and activities. The DI down there, Clive Tripps, has a good
team and they're doing everything we ask. Add Martin to that, and we
are well placed to know everything and have real time input. We're
waiting on a lot of information. The trace evidence from the scene is
being processed and you know that's a painful process. Being dumped in
an alleyway with the rubbish isn't the easiest scene to deal with. DNA
results from the semen will take