Page 50 of Guilty Mothers

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Page 50 of Guilty Mothers

‘I’m going to do whatever works,’ Bobbi said without apology.

Kim thanked her for her time and stepped out of the building, exhausted by Bobbi’s passion.

It was clear how strongly she felt about getting the events banned, and Kim couldn’t help wondering if there was any line the woman wouldn’t cross.

THIRTY-FOUR

Tiff tried to understand her feeling of foreboding as they knocked on Olivia and Logan Dench’s door.

She’d been riding a strange wave of misplaced euphoria since leaving the lake. Inappropriate because a man was dead, but no less real. Penn agreed with her that something wasn’t right. The feeling in her stomach hadn’t been due to an overindulgence of dairy.

But Tiff was starting to realise how immersive it all was. When she was in uniform, she reported for duty and she followed instructions. She finished her shift, and although there were people still on her mind once she got home, they were not her responsibility. She had done her job, handed over and entrusted the incident to people much higher on the food chain.

But she’d been unable to un-grip this case from her mind once she got home. It was as though she’d taken responsibility for it, that it was hers and that she’d never rest until it was solved. Did the rest of the team feel that way about every case? she wondered as Penn looked at her questioningly.

She nodded as he knocked again. It had taken the same amount of time for someone to answer the door the previous day.

They heard the sound of locks and chains being opened.

‘Hello again,’ Logan said, offering her a wide smile before looking curiously at Penn.

‘A colleague of mine,’ Tiff explained as Penn showed his identification.

‘Ooh, CID,’ he said, looking Penn up and down. Tiff could swear she saw a dismissive glint in his eye. ‘Sorry for the delay. I had headphones on, and Mom had the radio on loud in the kitchen. Do you want to come in?’

‘If you don’t mind,’ Penn said, crossing the threshold.

‘Mom’s in here,’ he said, pointing to the lounge.

He followed them in.

Olivia sat in a single chair close to the fireplace. She nodded a greeting, and Tiff sensed an unnatural stiffness in her posture.

Penn took a seat on the sofa, and Tiff sat beside him.

‘CID, Mom. Must be something important,’ Logan said, closing the door before taking the other single armchair.

‘Just a few questions, if you don’t mind,’ Penn said.

‘Of course,’ Olivia said, nodding.

‘I’m not sure what else we can tell you,’ Logan offered. ‘But if you can tell us when the funeral?—’

‘We can’t release the body quite yet. There are still questions around his death.’

‘What kind of questions?’ Logan asked.

Tiff realised that although Penn had initially been talking to Olivia, Logan had steered the conversation so that all eyes were now on him.

‘We’re not convinced his death was an accident,’ Penn said.

Logan nodded. ‘Yeah, I think it was suicide too.’

‘Not the line we’re going down either,’ Penn responded evenly.

‘But I told you he was depressed,’ Logan said, and Tiff wondered if she’d imagined the note of petulance that had crept into his voice.

‘Depression doesn’t always lead to suicide, and his sister didn’t think he was depressed. In fact, Esther thought he was the happiest he’d been in years, especially since meeting Olivia. He talked of a bright future between them.’




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