Those We Know (DI Olivia Austin Book 4) Read online

  He let his hand slowly pull the apartment door closed, shutting them in, giving them privacy.

  “You fucked Duracell?” The question hit the air, stinging Olivia more than the gash on her forehead.

  “What?” Incredulity was all that she could hold onto. “What kind of question is that?”

  Dean ran a hand through his thick hair.

  “Oh, it’s not a question, Liv.” He was fuming. Though she didn’t fully understand why.

  “And it’s none of your fucking business, Dean,” she hissed back, marching deeper into Diana’s flat in an attempt to get some space. Lawrence trailed behind her. “What I do in my personal time is my choice, no one else’s. And certainly not yours.” That seemed to shut him up for a moment.

  “You have a concussion in the middle of our first serial killer case—one where it is altogether probable that the murderer works on the force—and you really think the best idea is to have one of your team fuck your brains out?” Dean’s words stung like slaps, though his voice was barely above a forced whisper. “I shouldn’t even have to list all of the reasons that’s a poor call, Inspector.”

  “Oh, don’t ‘Inspector’ me,” she shot back, finally turning to face him. Her fingers grasped at the air, contemplating curling into fists. “Not when you’ve fucked half of the women at Newquay and anywhere in between.”

  She thought she saw him wince at her statement.

  “That’s a low blow,” he remarked. “Besides, anything I’ve done hasn’t been while concussed and investigating every cop for multiple homicides.”

  Silence passed between them, and she knew that somewhere deep down he had a point. What had happened, however much she’d wanted it, didn’t look good.

  She closed her eyes and pictured stumbling into her cottage with Andrew, the inability to keep their hands off each other for more than a couple of seconds to make it up the stairs, and the desperation she’d felt through her body… needing to be touched more than she’d realised.

  She opened her eyes quickly, aware that Dean was regarding her closely.

  “I could have died yesterday.” She heard the emotion rise in her voice, though it felt as though it came from someone else’s body, not her own. “Forgive me for wanting to feel alive for once.”

  Lawrence seemed stuck at that. Olivia could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, trying to figure out how to respond in a way that made him feel better about himself, about his position.

  “Look, can we just agree that what I do with my body is none of your business and move on? Us arguing about my sex life isn’t going to rescue Diana from this sociopath.”

  Olivia’s chest heaved as her words rung through the air. Lawrence’s face studied her own, disapproval flickering momentarily.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right.” It was as if he’d been a balloon, full of racing hot air, and Liv had gently pricked his skin. Now, he was slowly deflating, coming down from his fury. “That was wholly inappropriate of me. We should focus on the case.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, slowly closing the gap between them. “Now, back to it, I know this might come as a shock to you, but—”

  Before she could break the news to Dean that Clara and Diana were in fact in a relationship and that was why the tech analyst had been the one to discover the missing constable, Lawrence’s hand shot up to her forehead, gentle but probing. Olivia winced at the touch, pulling back slightly. She hissed in pain despite herself.

  “You’re bleeding again,” he pointed out, glancing around for something to press against her head wound.

  “Am I?” she asked, slightly puzzled. Her fingers shot up, and sure enough, when she pulled them back, they were gently coated with sticky blood against the electric blue of her gloves. “Oh, that’s not so bad.” She sighed, though Lawrence was already grabbing a kitchen roll to apply more pressure.

  “Here,” he muttered, passing it to Olivia.

  “Thanks.” The outburst from just moments before already felt like a fading memory, though Olivia was sure she’d return to Lawrence’s cutting words later. The audacity…

  “Take this too,” Lawrence offered, pulling the scarf from around his neck to place around Olivia’s shoulders.

  “I’m not cold, Dean, you don’t need to give me that,” Olivia remarked, starting to pull it off.

  “You’ve got a, uh,” he paused. “On your neck,” he simply explained, gesturing to his own body. A hickey.

  “Fuck me,” Olivia muttered, wrapping the scarf around her neck. “How obvious is it?”

  “Not terribly,” her partner replied. His voice was soft, gentle. “I just know you. Plus, Shaw couldn’t help but grin which, under the circumstances, is extremely jarring.”

  “Lovely.”

  Silence embraced the pair, each taking the time to study one another.

  “I’m so glad he didn’t hurt you worse yesterday,” Lawrence exhaled. Is that… fear in his voice? Olivia took a moment to reflect on the past 24 hours and imagined a role reversal. What if Dean had been the one hit in the head? And then to find out that another person was taken on the force…that whoever it was had the capacity to kidnap a young, athletic woman.

  If he had wanted to take Olivia, he could have. Maybe not with how close Shaw had been to them when he hovered over her and taunted her, but it was certainly an option.

  “Why did he take Diana and not me?” The question loomed in the air.

  “Liv, you can’t have survivor’s guilt. That’s not—” Lawrence started, concern furrowing his eyebrows.

  “That’s not what I mean,” Olivia interrupted, eyes lighting up. “I mean, why her and not me? He could have taken me in the woods. He’s shown he doesn’t care about blitzing people. Andrew was an easy target because he was shouting for me. The killer could have taken him down and then taken me.” The reality was starting to sink in a bit; she could easily be dead now. She had known that in theory, but it hit her like a train, threatening to make her throw up or pass out.

  And not only that, but he’d taken her friend instead. The reality of the situation heated Olivia’s cheeks, hot and fast.

  “It doesn’t make sense, unless…” Lawrence started but the realisation dawned on his face.

  “Clara,” Olivia muttered. “He must have wanted her off her game. Which means she’s probably cutting it too close for his liking at tracing him.”

  “No. No, that doesn’t make sense,” Dean observed. “You’re one of her best friends. She’d be affected if you were gone, too.”

  Olivia almost wanted to laugh at his comment; he could be so oblivious.

  “I honestly don’t know how you’re a detective sometimes,” she chuckled despite herself.

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “How so?” he asked, clearly baffled.

  “Clara and Diana. They’re together.” Olivia rolled her eyes in exasperation, the math evidently still not quite adding up in Lawrence’s head. “They’re girlfriends, Dean.”

  He absorbed the words.

  “Oh,” Lawrence replied, head slightly quirked. “Oh.”

  “Yeah,” Olivia smiled. There was something relieving about telling her partner, getting to share that with him.

  “Well, I’m a rightful idiot, aren’t I?” he groaned. “Making a fool of myself left and right today.”

  He couldn’t hold back the large grin that spread over his face.

  “Only a bit,” Olivia smirked. It amazed her how quickly they could fall back into their normal rhythm. Maybe that wasn’t altogether a good thing, but for now, it worked to their benefit. It would be hard to continue the case with a clear head if Dean continued to be an ass.

  “That’s… that’s quite marvellous,” he sighed, the pieces continually falling into place. “Good for them.”

  Her partner reached up and took the kitchen roll away from her head to assess the bleeding.

  “Quite right,” Olivia agreed. “I’m surprised you haven’t picked up on their che
mistry. Everything okay up there?”

  He nodded.

  “Pressure seems to have stopped the bleeding,” he answered. “Stitches still intact.”

  He handed her the kitchen roll.

  “Good!” she said. “Thank you. Now let’s grab Clara and head back to the station, see if we can catch this son of a bitch before the day’s even out.”

  “Let’s,” Lawrence agreed, surveying the scene one last time before following Olivia out of the door to the flat just as SOCO’s arrived.

  What happened to you, Diana?

  3

  The noise was back.

  A scream built in the back of Katie’s throat, even as her brain could think of nothing but the static of a TV, scattered and unsure.

  They had huddled together, legs pressed to legs. It did little to calm the fear that lit up her body like a blaze, but it was enough to ensure she didn’t feel alone. That she didn’t have to face this monster with no one else by her side.

  Their kidnapper had stalked close a couple of times already, though he usually retreated after banging on the metal of the door for a minute or two. Katie had done her best to explore the room, pushing herself up after many failed attempts before fumbling along the walls, using her hands to feel whatever she could.

  She had related the information to the other woman; it seemed like a fairly large container with a metal door locking them in. The hinges were on the other side.

  Her companion had sworn and then urged her to conserve her energy. “No use in wearing ourselves out more. Try to sleep, if you can.”

  And so they alternated—for how long, Katie had no clue. It could have been minutes or days, for all she knew. Her sleep was troubled and poor, always bookended by the crash of metal against metal, taunting them.

  This time was different, though.

  A different kind of creak. A key?

  Terror rose higher in Katie’s throat as she attempted to scramble to a more defensive position. What even would that be, though?

  Heavy boots thudded closer and closer. What Katie would give to see…

  The footsteps stopped just in front of them.

  “What do you want with us?” she asked, mustering up the last of her courage, using her voice to project a woman who wasn’t afraid of what was about to come. She didn’t want him to hear how terrified their silence made her. “The other girl in here's hurt. You have to get her help.”

  Silence again.

  Her uncontrollable cry sputtered from her mouth, triggering her capturer’s swift movement, and within barely a second, she was bathed in a powerful beam of light.

  Pain electrified. Her eyes seared, the gash at the back of her head set on fire with the light. She yelped, wincing and turning her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Anything to get away. She had wanted to see so badly, she had forgotten how blinding light could be.

  “Please...” she cried. “We'll do whatever you want. I have money... did have money, but I can get some more and...”

  She felt something hard hit her in the stomach. So hard that she wretched forcibly.

  Her scream came out as a strangled cry.

  The woman beside her tried to move forward, but whoever it was only wanted her.

  “Please...” she begged again. “Please...”

  The second blow came harder to her chest. It knocked her backwards, twisting her wrist underneath her, but she was too winded to scream.

  Pain seared throughout her body, ricocheting along every nerve that seemed to feel something.

  Was she dying? No. She was sure that was yet to come.

  A foot came down hard on her pelvis, pinning her down. Crushing her into the ground.

  “Stop!” the woman beside her shouted. “Get off her!”

  Their kidnapper didn’t respond, but the dull thud told her that her companion had been hit but had also refused to give him the satisfaction of a cry. She was tough as nails; Katie could tell that much.

  Pleading was no use. It was over for them. For her at least.

  The foot released her, and the momentary relief was replaced with more pain as a hand gripped her hair and dragged her along the floor, bending her already cracked wrist.

  “No!” The word became a mantra, spilling out of her mouth, blending one into the other.

  The closer she was dragged toward the door, the more desperate she became. A small part of her marvelled at the instincts she had. Limbs flying everywhere, shrieks tearing from her lips, cries spilling forth, all in an effort to get the shadow to stop. She knew in the moment that she was fighting for whatever life she had left.

  Just before she was pulled through the door, the beam from the torch flickered around the room, and she caught sight of the woman who’d become her saviour. Her companion in the darkness.

  The redness of her hair reflected against the fragments of light, and she met her red-rimmed green eyes with her own. Fear and determination mixed with the sense of impending doom. They both shared that, and their eyes connected amidst the sea of terror.

  Katie felt a sense of peace wash over her, and it blocked out the pain even as the man yanked harder at her scalp.

  “My girlfriend will find us!” the woman declared weakly, her eyes narrowed at their kidnapper. “Trust me, you don’t want to go up against her. She won’t be beaten.” Katie could hear her companion’s voice strengthening with each word. “And when she does find us, you’re finished.”

  The dragging stopped, and Katie took a moment to hook her legs around the doorway.

  “I welcome that,” the chilling, empty response came, voice void of any emotion or care. What kind of monster would do this?

  Before she had a chance to say anything, her hair was pulled tight again in an attempt to drag her from the room.

  She let out a scream as she hooked her ankles tighter around the door frame, holding on with every fibre of her being. Every sinew of muscle protested, but she had to hold on. It was all she had left.

  Let go and she would be dragged to her death, and she didn’t want to give up without a fight. Even in spite of her scalp burning. Even in spite of her fear threatening to empty her stomach contents onto her chest. She needed this fight.

  “You're going to be okay,” her female companion repeated over and over, trying as hard as she could to slide toward her. “You're going to be okay, Katie.”

  It was a lie. They both knew that. They both knew that as soon as the door closed, it would be over. The thought made tears sting the back of her eyes.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. She had so much more to give. She had a nephew due any day now; her step mum was fighting cancer and fucking winning that battle. She wanted to get married and have children and get that promotion she was in line for at work. So many things that she was ready for that she had been taking for granted—all her future eclipsed by a bastard with a horrific agenda.

  “Tell my family I love them when your girl finds you, yeah?” she called out, her voice hoarse with the pain of it all.

  “You’re going to be okay, Katie. We can tell them together.” She could hear the denial in the ginger’s voice, the fight to hold on to normality.

  She felt her body relax. She couldn’t do it anymore. Couldn’t keep up the hold with her legs on the door frame. As she released her legs, exhaustion settled over her chest, pushing away everything else: the pain, the terror, the panic.

  She locked eyes with her companion again. A haunting image in the lone torch light, fiery hair a bright halo. Her guardian angel.

  “What’s your name?” she croaked, barely able to project her voice.

  Before the answer came, she was pulled from the room and thrown against the wall. Her head smacked against the stone, rendering her vision blurry once more.

  The pain had been concentrated before. Her head. Her torso. Her scalp. Now everything simply felt broken, like she was a porcelain doll, shattered on the floor.

  She faced up to her kidnapper, one last stand of defiance. S
he watched as he lifted a fist to strike her again. Time was different now; everything coalesced into a clear order of events. In a way, she was already dead as she faced her shadowy killer.

  “Do it!” she growled between gritted teeth. She was ready now. Ready to accept that she'd never see another day, and just before she felt the force of power against her skull, she heard a loud voice shout from within the room.

  “I'm Diana! Diana Hershel.” Firm and strong against the fear. Strong against what was to come. A soothing blanket of reassurance. Just as the shadowed figure was her killer, Diana was her saviour, allowing her to rest. “Everything’s going to be okay, Katie! I’ll tell your family—”

  And then came the darkness.

  4

  “Let’s just go over it one more time, all right?” Olivia and Lawrence had gone through the past 24 hours with Clara two times already, and it was clear from the tech analyst’s face that she was exhausted at the thought of continuing. Liv couldn’t blame her; it was harrowing.

  The trio had raced back to the station, deliberately ignoring the fact that Clara probably shouldn’t be in the office. Until Collins found out, there wasn’t really anything anyone could do to stop them. And the analyst was going to be of more help at her desk, as much as Olivia just wanted to send her friend home.

  “Do you really think that will help?“ Desperation tugged at Clara‘s voice, wearing away at her.

  “Maybe not,” Lawrence sighed. “And you’re sure no one besides Olivia knew about your… relationship with Diana?”“

  “No one from my end,“ she explained. “It’s possible that Di told a couple of her former classmates or friends, but beyond that, I just doubt she would’ve mentioned it to anyone. She was still coming to terms with things.”

  Olivia paced the small distance of Detective Superintendent Collins’ office. Usually, the broad-shouldered man would occupy it himself, but Clara had taken up temporary residence in it for the duration of this case, citing the need for space and bandwidth.

  Upon returning to the station, the trio had drawn up a shaky map of the killer's logic on a rogue whiteboard. “Mess up Clara“ and “frighten Olivia” were both circled in large black marker. Other notes were scribbled to the side, like “throw off team“ and “ransom?”