Kiss and Hell (DI Olivia Austin Book 3) Read online

  Her phone rang, and it stopped the sick feeling that swirled in her stomach again. The name on the screen should have given her comfort, but instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

  “Mum,” she answered with a big sigh. Tears welled at her eyes, and she willed herself to put on a brave face. “Hi.”

  “Oh, Livvie,” she returned. The sniff confirmed that she had indeed been told the news. “Isn’t it awful?”

  Of course it was.

  “Tell her to come home, Linda!” she heard her dad’s voice in the background.

  “Did you hear that?” her mother asked. “Your Pa's wanting you back here. We're going to your sister’s in an hour to wait for news. Is there anything you can tell us?”

  Olivia waited for two uniformed officers to walk past before she spoke.

  “I only know what you do,” she sighed. “I haven't been assigned to the case, but as soon as I know anything, I’ll call you. We'll...” she stopped herself. We'll what? Get through this? Be okay? Empty words didn’t seem appropriate anymore. They’d been repeating the same ones for fifteen years now, and nothing had changed. Assurances hadn’t brought Alex back, hadn’t given anyone closure. Maybe this was for the best. They could finally lay him to rest.

  The side door of the police station opened again, and Olivia watched Lawrence stroll through it. He caught sight of her and made his way over, his dark eyes finally meeting her own after his superb avoidance inside the office. Panic gripped Olivia’s chest; the last thing she wanted to do right now was speak with anyone about her brother.

  “I can't come over right now,” she hissed into the phone quickly. “I have to work. I need to work. But I’ll try and pop over later. Thank you. Love you all. I have to go, bye.”

  She ended the call before her mother could protest and just in time for her partner to arrive at her side.

  In his hands he had her bag and coat.

  “You should go home,” he said handing them out to her. “I'd offer you my shoulder, but I don’t even know what to say. I’m just... I...” DI Lawrence pulled her in for a hug and squeezed her. Unexpected relief washed through Olivia as her partner embraced her, and she let her arms float up to hold onto him in kind.

  “Just know that I might not be blessed with the best understanding, but I’m always here to listen. Always.” He said the last part as he pulled away and stared at her, his eyebrows raised, waiting for her reassurance.

  “I’m fine,” she whispered with a sad smile. “Honestly, better than I thought I would be. We've talked about this day often over the years, and I used to imagine myself crying and the tears and the anguish and heartache... But I’m... I’m strangely okay—I think.”

  Her voice trailed off. Was she okay? Or was that what she told herself? Perhaps it was the shock of getting answers to something they’d always assumed would stay unsolved? Either way, staying at work was the best thing for her.

  The more she threw herself into the Benson assault case, the less she had to think about what ifs and whys.

  The door opened again, and DC Timothy Harris emerged. He saw the two detectives and hovered awkwardly.

  “It's fine, you can come over,” she encouraged.

  He arrived at their side, rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it in what she could only assume he thought was affection.

  “I'm sorry,” he sighed. “I really am. But unfortunately, I need to borrow Dean...”

  Lawrence raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh?” he checked his watch. “Can it wait five minutes? I'll be up in a sec.”

  Tim nodded but hesitantly hung around.

  “It's just, a body has been found, and Collins wants to start the briefing ASAP.”

  DI Lawrence gave Olivia a frown.

  “I'll call you later,” he assured her. “I should go.”

  Liv, still in need of a distraction, tucked her coat over her arm.

  “Count me in too,” she said quickly. “My head's clear. I promise. I'll give the case 100%. You have my word.”

  He paused, watching her intently.

  “I don't know if this is a good idea,” Tim warned as they followed him back inside. “You might want to sit this one out. It’s nasty.”

  “Please, Tim,” she heard herself plead. “I need to focus on something other than this limbo I’m in.”

  He gave her one more look before beckoning her to join.

  “Why did you say this one is nasty?” Lawrence asked as the trio walked together. “What do we know so far?”

  They stopped at the bottom of the stairs and DC Harris turned to them.

  “Barely anything at the moment,” he answered. “But a young woman's body was found in a hotel this morning by the cleaners, and to their horror, it looks as though…” Tim swallowed, eyes darting between the two detectives. “She's been eaten alive...”

  Well, fuck.

  2

  Olivia’s mind teemed with the facts from the case, threatening to overflow. She and Lawrence hadn’t even arrived at the crime scene yet, and she already felt a queasy feeling overcome her insides.

  She’d seen a lot of shit during her time with the City of London Police, but never had she encountered any sort of cannibalism. It certainly wasn’t something they went over in her police academy trainings.

  “Are you sure you’re up for this?” Lawrence asked, piercing Olivia with a quick glance from his dark eyes. She felt cold for a moment, as though she’d walked into a draft. Somehow, the details of the case had already distracted her enough that for a moment she forgot about Alex, but the weight of the missing body alongside the potential cannibal crashed into her simultaneously. There was so much in the world that was left to waste unnecessarily.

  “Of course,” Olivia assured him with a smile, although even she knew it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, the idea of investigating a crime scene with… well… a half-eaten woman isn’t exactly what I was hoping for when I walked into work this morning, but it’s better than sitting at my sister’s house waiting for news with bated breath.”

  The more she thought about it, the more content she felt about her decision not to go home.

  Her parent’s had Mills; that was enough and that was how it had always been. Besides, she’d made a promise to herself that if she accompanied Lawrence to the crime scene today, she’d put everything else out of her mind so she could concentrate and give it her full attention.

  Many would have thought her cold-hearted or emotionally detached, but deep down, it was the only way she knew how to cope. Build up the walls and let no one else inside. It didn’t mean she loved her brother any less, though. In reality, it was quite the opposite.

  “I hear you,” Lawrence sighed, his shoulders noticeably releasing as he stared at the road. “I have your back, though. You know that. Just promise me something?” His voice was grave.

  “What?” Olivia asked, shifting in her seat to better face her partner. “Is everything okay?”

  He gave her a quick look.

  “Yeah, don’t look at me like that, it’s nothing big,” he justified, though his face remained serious. “It’s just… well… if I get sick at this scene, just promise me you won’t tell a bloody soul.”

  Olivia let out a loud laugh at that. It felt a bit cruel, but it also broke whatever tension had been looming over the car since they had stepped in earlier. It felt as though plastic wrap had entombed them and suddenly, with a tear, fresh air could finally return to their lungs.

  “What?” Lawrence demanded. He tried to sound annoyed, but a smile played on his lips.

  “I’m sorry,” Olivia chuckled. “I shouldn’t laugh, I know. I just thought it was going to be something more serious than that.”

  “It is serious,” her partner insisted. “Do you have any idea how long it will take to live down that I vomited at this scene, especially after the Laredo incident?”

  Liv raised an eyebrow.

  “What on earth is the Laredo incid
ent?” she asked with a gentle gasp, eyes widening in curiosity.

  Lawrence bit his lip and shook his head.

  “If you know, you know,” he answered. He tapped his thumb against the steering wheel, and Olivia rolled her eyes.

  “Men,” she sighed with amusement. “So overly dramatic sometimes. Don’t worry, I’ll make Tim talk later.”

  Her partner laughed.

  “Good luck with that, then!” he teased. “You know how loyal the man is.”

  She couldn’t deny that. Since her very first day, she’d never heard a bad word said about DC Harris. And if there was one person you could count on, it would be him. If he’d been sworn to secrecy, he’d never tell.

  The delicately smug voice of the satnav indicated they were nearing the hotel, and Olivia allowed herself the time to mentally prepare for the bloodbath they would most likely walk into.

  She couldn’t blame Lawrence for wanting to keep any sort of intense reaction to the crime scene private, but part of her wondered if he’d made a show out of it because it let them forget for a moment the hellscape they were about to step into.

  The car pulled quietly into the hotel car park, and the pair gave each other one last long, knowing look before exiting their vehicle.

  The building looked nice, clean. As they entered through the dramatic sliding glass doors, Olivia made sure to note a couple of security cameras, as well as a hotel bar right off from the lobby. Two officers stood at attention upon the detectives’ arrival.

  “PC Hershel.” Olivia smiled, happy to notice that she recognised one of the uniform-clad individuals. Hershel had a good sense for detective work and a great work ethic too. Sometimes, Olivia wished she could peel back the layers just a bit more and get a better sense of who the woman was under the uniform. Still, it was always a pleasure to work with her on a case.

  “Detective Austin,” the young constable acknowledged her, gently tipping her head forward before returning to attention. “We’ve sealed off the crime scene and the majority of that floor. We’ve also managed to secure security footage from yesterday evening. My colleague has spoken with the front desk about who reserved Room 308, and we’re currently tracking down credit card information as we speak.”

  “Perfect,” Olivia replied. “Have any witnesses come forward regarding last night?”

  PC Hershel flipped through the pages of her own notepad and until she found the right part.

  “The receptionist from the evening shift was able to ID the victim from her clothes—she was wearing a rather scandalous black dress,” she informed the detectives. The receptionist said she was drinking rather intensely based on the way she stumbled out of the bar. She’s in the back if you’d like to interview her.” Hershel’s answers were precise and pointed. She really was a huge asset whenever working on a case; she instinctually knew what to keep an eye out for beyond just the textbook examples.

  “Sounds like she might have been dressed up to either go out or meet someone,” Olivia exhaled, jotting the information down. “Thank you very much. Do we know who the victim is yet?”

  The officer shook her head.

  “Unfortunately, not,” she answered. “She didn’t have any identification on her, and her face is… well, it’s not easy to ID, but we’re going to put as much of a description as possible into Missing People and see if we find any matches.”

  Olivia nodded, lips pursed. It was always difficult when they had a John or Jane Doe; it was much harder to determine motive when they didn’t even know what their victim’s background was like.

  “And who discovered the body?” Lawrence chimed in, paralleling Olivia’s posture as he took his own set of notes.

  “One of the cleaners,” Hershel replied, twiddling with the antenna on her radio. “Whoever the killer is, they didn’t even bother to put a do not disturb sign up. She was quite shaken, so after giving us a description, we sent her home. I made sure we got her contact information so you can talk to her again later.”

  The officer held her own notepad out, and the detectives quickly jotted down the details.

  “Good work,” Lawrence offered gruffly.

  She gave him the slightest of smiles in return as she put her things away and glanced at them both.

  “Just doing my job,” she explained.

  “And doing it well,” Lawrence concurred with his own gentle smile. Hershel cleared her throat, evidently unsure how to handle the compliment.

  “Tell me,” Olivia interjected. “You saw the body, didn’t you?”

  The young constable pinched her lips together at that question, eyes averted to the ground. A long sigh escaped her mouth, her eyes closing as she exhaled. The answer was written across her face, plain as day and, Liv noted, it was the first real emotion she’d seen in the woman.

  “I did,” she admitted. “Not to worry you both, but it’s not a pretty sight. Forensics are up there already, and you’ll need to make sure you wear an overcoat. It’s... messy.”

  Lawrence cleared his throat and adjusted his stance, preparing for whatever was to greet him on the 3rd floor.

  “Understood,” Olivia replied. She saw how tightly strung the officer held herself, as if she were a cocoon spun a bit too snug, holding her limbs close to her centre. There was a common misconception that policemen and women were stoic robots who could deal with whatever was thrown their way without flinching, but it simply wasn’t true. She was testament to that herself.

  Olivia lowered her voice so two staff members walking past didn’t hear.

  “Everyone copes with a horrific crime scene in different ways,” she offered her colleague, trying to find the balance between too soft and too uncaring. Hershel struck her as the kind of woman who never wanted to be seen as weak; Olivia related a lot to her in that way. That didn’t, however, take away from the fact that she was still human and still needed an outlet. “Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself and make sure you attend the debrief. It’s okay to talk to someone about it if you need to.”

  The officer shifted uncomfortably and straightened her duty vest.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered, making it clear to both Olivia and Dean she was simply telling herself that—not because she believed it, but because it was easier to say.

  “Of course,” Liv replied, offering her a gentle smile. “I Just thought I’d mention it, in case that changes.”

  PC Hershel nodded, her walls very solidly built up.

  “Well, we should get up to the crime scene.” Lawrence sighed, glancing over to Olivia. “Thank you for being so helpful, Constable.”

  Hershel nodded once more before falling back to meet her partner.

  “Shall we?” Olivia asked, checking her watch to see how long they’d been on scene.

  “Let’s do it,” Lawrence affirmed, marching forward towards the elevator.

  She appreciated his confidence; it helped propel her own feet forward despite the pit of dread building in her stomach. The morning had been such a haze that she hadn’t fully processed the scene she was about to study, and as the lift doors opened for the duo, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

  The same feeling stayed with her as they pressed upwards, causing her own heart to plummet down.

  “You okay?” Lawrence asked, turning to his partner.

  “I will be,” she assured him. Her reflection in the lift’s mirror stared back at her, and even she could tell that some colour had drained from her already pale face, her auburn hair doing little to hide her nerves.

  All the earlier emotion surrounding her brother had made the bags under her eyes more prominent. She rubbed at them, hoping to also rub away the awful image she had of his lone skeleton in the mud.

  “Are you?” she asked, pushing the attention to Lawrence and away from herself. She studied her partner; he also seemed a bit uneasy and gave her a weak smile in response.

  “I’ll be all right,” he forced, holding his gaze steady. “We both will be.”

  Ol
ivia felt assurance trickle into her extremities. This wasn’t going to be an easy crime scene—the look on Hershel’s face alone had told them that. But they’d be taking it on together, and that had to count for something.

  “We’ve got this,” she insisted, reminding herself of the horrific injuries she’d witnessed first-hand during the Oxford Street attacks. A man in shock, carrying his own intestines, a woman’s body shot and exploded all over the window of a shop. Yes, this couldn’t have been worse than that.

  “You’re right,” Lawrence agreed, something between a smile and a grimace flashing before his face. “And if one of us gets sick…”

  “No one has to know,” Olivia finished his sentence for him with a wink.

  “Exactly,” he replied, his nod not as calm and collected as he’d probably hoped.

  The lift pinged, giving them just enough time to collect themselves before the doors opened.

  “We’ve got this,” Olivia repeated under her breath, turning to face the cordoned-off hallway. The walls were on the yellow side of beige, decorative plants and mirrors painting a picture of serenity despite the catastrophic incident that had recently occurred in Room 308.

  “We’ve got this,” Lawrence echoed.

  Despite the gnawing dread in her stomach, Olivia squared her shoulders off and took her first step into the hallway. Three scene of crime officers stood before them, ready to help the detectives into their white forensic suits and overshoes. Olivia exhaled, trying not to think of the carnage that awaited them.

  We’ve got this.

  3

  Lawrence had emptied the contents of his stomach into an evidence bag he was handed immediately after walking into the crime scene.

  Olivia couldn’t say she blamed him; the acrid smell of spilled blood filled her nose with a nauseating presence, while the sight before her eyes made her stomach curdle. Still, she managed to keep her breakfast down against all odds.