Free Bad Moon Rising (#1 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) by Frances di Plino Page B

for the first three weeks and then, when I had time and tried to call you, you wouldn’t take my calls.”
    Barbara sighed. “I know. I wanted to speak to you and I didn’t want to speak to you. It was easier to think of you as a bastard than to hear you say what you’ve just said. I knew how you felt about Lydia. I just didn’t want to hear it. Sorry, Paolo. Pax?”
    Paolo stood and walked around to her side of the desk. “Is it okay to hug you?”
    Barbara smiled; trust him to ask such a stupid question. “Sure, why not?” She stood up and leaned into his open arms.
    “I’m sorry, Barbara. Friends?” he said.
    She hugged him back and tried not to want more, but it wasn’t working. “Ja, of course we’re friends. Go on, get back to work. We’re fine.”
    She felt his arms tighten around her briefly and then he moved away with a look suspiciously like relief on his face. Bloody men. She forced a smile onto her own face. Her features felt like lead, but she managed it. As the door closed behind him, her phone rang. Work calling. Thank God.
    Barbara picked up the receiver and hoped her voice didn’t crack, but she doubted it would even have been noticed. Sharon’s sobs were loud enough to drown out any other noise.
    “Barbara, I... didn’t know who to... I can’t believe... it’s...”
    “Sharon, hang on, honey. Take a deep breath. What’s wrong? Has he hit you again?”
    “No, I’m sorry. I... I shouldn’t have called you. I didn’t know who... you are a doctor, though, aren’t you?”
    What on earth was going on? Barbara concentrated on calming the other woman down and eventually Sharon seemed to get her emotions under control.
    “Barbara, I need your help. Can you meet me tonight after Larry goes out?”
    ***
    Paolo stared at the ceiling of his office. At least the one at work wasn’t crisscrossed with cracks. He hadn’t had a spare moment to look for somewhere else to rent. Getting a home sorted out needed to become a priority.
    He thought back to his conversation with Barbara and felt relief, but also another emotion which nagged at the back of his mind. He recognised it as guilt – what else? His old friend guilt was always there in the background, a lasting product of his Catholic upbringing, but right now it was tap-dancing and pushing its way to the foreground. He’d treated Barbara badly, no two ways about that. Even if he hadn’t meant to, he’d still hurt her. All he could hope for now was that she’d find someone nice to ... to what? Take her mind off what an arse he’d been?
    He looked down at the papers littering his desk and picked up the file on Azzopardi. His DNA wasn’t a match to that found on the dead women, but that didn’t necessarily put him in the clear. Azzopardi rarely did the dirty work himself, unless roughing up Maria counted as work. If he’d targeted the Albanian network then he’d have sent a few of his thugs round to work the girls over. It was always possible one of them had a taste for murder.
    On the other hand, the latest find didn’t quite fit the profile. The woman was much older than the other two. What the hell did that mean? If it was the same killer, why switch from an older woman to girls barely out of their teens? One thing at least was clear now – the murders had started much earlier than they’d first realised.
    His thoughts were interrupted by his mobile ringing. He picked it up and saw it was a call from his daughter.
    “Hi, Katy, what’s up? Shouldn’t you be in class?”
    “Nah, it’s break, so it’s okay. Dad, I’m sorry I wouldn’t speak to you when you rang, but...”
    “I know, kiddo, you were mad at me – and you were right to be. I’m just sorry I had to leave when I did.”
    “Anyway, I just wanted to make sure – you are still coming this Saturday, aren’t you?”
    “Of course I am. Why?”
    “No reason.”
    “Come on, Katy, spit it out. I can hear there’s something you’re not telling me.”
    “Is it