Under a Silent Moon: A Novel Read Free Page A

previously been the central ticketing office, but they’d been moved to the new Traffic Unit two weeks ago. Fortunately, as it turned out, because the room usually reserved for MIRs was already in use. There had been three armed robberies in the space of a month, a bank manager and a member of the public shot dead, and the investigation for that was well under way.
    In a way this room was better, Lou realized; the area briefing room was right next door, which meant they could use it without having to lug all the equipment back and forth, and the canteen was just up the corridor. The only downside was that the only windows looked out onto a brick wall. And the nearest custody suite was a few miles away in Briarstone nick, which wasn’t ideal, but no one asked anyone who was ever actually affected by these management decisions what they thought.
    A knock on the door of her goldfish-bowl office, which was right in the corner; Mandy, one of the HOLMES inputters. “More for you,” she said, handing over another pile of papers to add to the collection.
    “Thanks. How’s it looking out there?”
    “Well,” Mandy said, with a discreet cough, “were you expecting DI Hamilton?”
    “Oh shit.” Lou felt the blood drain from her cheeks. “What’s he doing here? I asked for Rob Jefferson.”
    “Apparently DI Jefferson’s done his back in. Sorry. Thought you should know.”
    Lou pulled herself together and managed a smile. “Thanks. All the photos ready?”
    Mandy nodded, and left her to it.
    Fucking Andy Hamilton—that was all she needed. Another knock at the door, and Lou looked up to see Andy’s bulky frame filling the glass window. She took a deep breath and beckoned him in.
    “Guv,” Andy acknowledged, giving her his best charming smile.
    She regarded him steadily. He’d put on weight since she’d last seen him, but he was still attractive, that dark hair and dark, neatly trimmed goatee. Eyes that were wicked, that suggested imminent misbehavior.
    “Andy. How are you?”
    “Great, thanks. You’re looking . . . well.” His eyes had managed to travel from her new shoes, up her legs, to her face, within a fraction of a second.
    She gave him a smile so tight it pinched. “We’ve got a briefing in twenty minutes. Have you got a desk?”
    “I’ll find one. It’s going to be great working with you again, Lou.” He was disarmingly relaxed. Not fair.
    “How’s Karen? And the kids?”
    Andy’s expression tensed, but only slightly. “They’re all fine.”
    “Is Leah sleeping through yet?”
    “Not quite. We have the odd good night here and there.”
    “This is going to be a tough case, Andy. If you’re finding it difficult fitting it around home, I want to know about it, okay? I can’t have you not with us a hundred percent on this.”
    “You know me, Boss. Loads of energy and up for anything.” He finished with his cheekiest grin, and a wink.
    Lou felt something twist inside her. She looked up at him. “Strictly work, Andy, okay?”
    “Sure thing.” And he was gone.
    But he had always had trouble taking no for an answer.
    15:40
    Flora pulled her cold Wellington boots on over her thick socks in the mudroom at the back door.
    “Can I come with you?” the policewoman asked, appearing in the doorway.
    “Sure,” Flora said, her tone unnaturally bright. “You’ll need boots. Here, try these.”
    The woman slipped off her shoes and pulled Felicity’s old boots up over the cuffs of her smart gray trousers. “They’ll do,” she said.
    “What’s your name?” Flora asked, giving in at last.
    “Miranda Gregson,” came the reply.
    As soon as she heard the name Flora remembered it. “Of course. Sorry.”
    “That’s okay. It’s a difficult time.”
    She gave Miranda one of her father’s jackets to wear and they set off toward the stables. It was already starting to get dark, a wind blustering and swirling around the farm buildings, tugging at their clothes.
    “I used to go riding when I was