Free Missing (The Cass Lehman Series Book 3) by Melanie Casey

well as Phil’s partner. I thought she might eat him alive, but they’re a good team.’
    ‘So you don’t want me to come back?’
    ‘As Phil’s partner, no.’
    Ed looked away. He didn’t want her to see how hurt he was that she was prepared to hand him over to MCIB without batting an eyelid.
    ‘Right, I see …’
    ‘Oh come on! You’re not much of a detective, are you? I want you to come back here and take on my role for three months. It could be longer, but that depends on what happens with Pat’s health.’
    ‘Acting DCI?’
    She smiled for the first time and rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, don’t look so shocked. You’re one of my most senior detectives and now you’ve got MCIB experience as well. It wasn’t a difficult choice.’
    Ed leant back in his chair and let the thought roll around in his mind. It was appealing, but he wasn’t sure how Phil’d take it. How would she feel about him being her boss?
    ‘You don’t have to give me an answer now. Take a couple of days to think about it and talk to Cass. You’d need to come back from MCIB a bit earlier. Pat’s booked in for his surgery at the end of next month. I haven’t approached DCI Arnott yet, but if you agree to move then I’m sure he’ll be accommodating.’
    Ed had a pretty good idea of what Crackers’ reaction would be. ‘Accommodating’ wasn’t the word he would have used.

    ‘Thanks. I’ll give it some thought,’ he said.
    She stood up and offered her hand. The formality of the handshake felt strange. He was on his way out of the office when a thought struck him.
    ‘Can I talk to Phil about it?’
    ‘Yes, if you need to. Just let her know that I’d prefer to keep it quiet until a decision has been made and announced.’

CHAPTER
8
    I blinked into the darkness, trying to work out what had woken me. My eyes were heavy with sleep and my brain fuzzy around the edges. The glowing numbers on the clock swam into view. It was just after 7pm. I’d been asleep for nearly four hours.
    ‘Cass?’ Ed’s voice echoed up the stairs from the small entrance lobby.
    ‘Up here.’
    I flicked on the lamp and sat up in bed, then listened as he trudged up the stairs. He appeared in the doorway.
    ‘Are you sick?’ He walked over to the bed and sat down, tugging at his laces and easing his shoes off. I wrinkled my nose. He had the unmistakeable odour of rubbish dump about him.
    ‘I had a vision while I was out for lunch.’

    ‘Are you OK?’ He’d seen the aftermath of my visions enough times to know they left me wrung out.
    ‘Yep, just tired.’
    ‘Where’d it happen? Were you by yourself?’
    The anxiety in his voice had crept up a few notches but his questions were sounding more like the Spanish Inquisition than an expression of concern.
    ‘In the city, and no, I wasn’t by myself. I’m fine.’ I threw the bedclothes back and climbed out of bed. I was still fully clothed. When DCI Arnott had dropped me home I’d barely made it out of the car and up the stairs before collapsing into a comatose state on the bed. I couldn’t even remember getting under the covers. I studied Ed’s face. The dark circles told me all I needed to know, but I asked the question anyway. No point being a complete bitch. ‘How was your day? You left at the crack of dawn.’ I couldn’t help throwing in the last bit.
    ‘I had a shit day. Look, we have a few things to talk about. How about I order some takeaway and we crack a bottle of red?’
    ‘I’ll be down in a minute. I need a quick shower to wake up.’ I sniffed. ‘And you might want to have one after me.’
    Forty-five minutes later we were sitting on the couch, glasses of wine on the coffee table and plates of Thai food on our laps. I was wide awake and Ed smelled of soap instead of a wheelie bin. I kept my eyes locked on my plate. I wasn’t going to start this conversation. As far as I was concerned he’d caused the argument, so he could begin the fixing process.

    He wriggled against the