Free The Lost Girl (Brennan and Esposito) by Tania Carver Page A

‘Still big on informality. But yes, you’re right. And DS Beresford couldn’t go anywhere because of his car.’
    ‘Does he have his warrant card with him?’
    ‘Of course.’ Franks sounded insulted at the suggestion.
    ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ said Imani, ‘but I have to ask. I’m sure you’ve done the same thing. Even if he is an officer of yours.’
    ‘True. And I have done. DCI Cotter and I have been sharing information all the while you’ve been driving here. I know what’s happened and I’ve questioned DS Beresford. I’m satisfied he told me the truth.’
    There was a knock on the door.
    ‘That’ll be him now.’
    Franks shouted to whoever it was to enter. A huge, bald man came in. Imani stood up. DS Dave Beresford looked just like his photo. He crossed to her, smiled. Shook hands.
    ‘DS Beresford.’ He smiled. ‘Dave.’
    He had an appealing smile for such a large man. Charming, in fact.
    ‘DS Oliver,’ she said. ‘Imani.’
    ‘Right,’ said Franks, while Beresford pulled up a chair, ‘you’ve had your pleasantries, let’s get down to it. I assume DCI Cotter’s sent you here to see how we’re doing, that right?’
    ‘And to assist in any way I can, sir.’
    ‘Right. Well.’ He looked to Beresford and back to Imani. ‘We’ve got a lot to do. Hope you can think on your feet.’
    ‘I can, sir.’
    ‘That’s it then. Welcome aboard, DS Oliver. Here’s to a successful investigation.’
    She smiled, nodded. Aware all the time of Beresford’s eyes on her.

14
     
    A t least she had stopped touching him. That seemed to be the best he could hope for at the moment.
    Phil still couldn’t move. Every time he pulled against the restraints they just seemed to tighten. But at least the woman had left him alone.
    Terror had crept up on him when she had started stroking. Her hand firmly brushing over him, working its way down the length of his body. All the while smiling at him, holding eye contact. Waiting for him to flinch, move, respond, anything. Phil struggled hard to keep as still, be as passive as he could. Not let his body make any kind of involuntary responses to her touch. In any way.
    Seeing that her fingers weren’t having the response she had hoped for she had stood up, laughed and left the room. He was alone once more. His head reeling with questions.
    He once again tried to work out what he knew, rationalise the situation. He was in trouble, yes. More than that: danger. She had killed before. Clearly she had no compunction about killing again. But he didn’t think she wanted to kill him. Or at least not yet. She wanted him for something else. She had gone to all this trouble, killing three men, even getting a serving police officer to kidnap him. Or who he presumed was a police officer. She wanted something. Something he hadn’t yet given her. Something that, in her twisted mind, it seemed like he was the only person who could provide. That was the one good thought he clung on to, the one thing that kept him going. That meant that, no matter how slim, he still had a chance.
    He looked round the room once more, trying to find some clue as to where he was. His eyes fell on two little capsules on his bedside table. Blue and white, just lying there. He didn’t know what they were, but he was sure they weren’t good.
    But he didn’t have time to dwell on anything further as the door opened and she entered once more.
    ‘Had a little rest?’ she said. ‘Good. Build your strength up. You’re going to need it.’
    ‘What for?’
    She didn’t reply. Just gave him another smile. ‘Dinner will be served soon. One of your favourites. Pork and chorizo goulash, is that right?’
    Phil couldn’t answer for a few seconds. She was right, it was one of his favourites. He often made it himself since it was one of his signature dishes, as he had once laughingly described it to Marina – that and spaghetti bolognese.
    ‘I know you like to make it yourself,’ she said, ‘but I do hope