Those We Know (DI Olivia Austin Book 4) Page 9

  She was vaguely aware that Dean was speaking in hushed tones into the phone, though what exactly he was saying, she couldn’t bother to decipher. He must have finished his conversation with Clara because she heard the tell-tale sound of his smart shoes against her kitchen tile.

  And then he was rubbing her back, assuring her quietly. The taste of bile lingered on Olivia’s tongue, making her wince.

  “I fucking slept with him, Dean,” she groaned before reaching for a glass, desperate to drink some water. “I had him here in my house... in my bed, and all the while he was chopping up men and women and fucking eating their...”

  She let the tap water rinse her vomit down the sink, unable to say the words.

  “You had no way of knowing,” Lawrence whispered to her. “And possession of a burner phone isn’t proof of guilt. We don’t know what it means yet.”

  Olivia sniffed.

  “It at the very least means that he was associated with Turner,” she shot back, her tone acidic. “Isn’t that alarming enough?”

  Her partner’s hand stopped on her lower back.

  “Liv.” She finally met his stare but couldn’t tell what his tone held. Are you mad at me? Taking pity on me?

  “Dean,” she replied, matching him.

  “You’re a fantastic detective. One of the best I’ve ever met—and I’m not just saying that because I’m your partner,” he offered. “Don’t let your personal life muddy your instincts. You have to see this through before jumping to any conclusions.”

  The words came like a slap to Olivia; she hadn’t expected Lawrence to be so blunt. A wave of tears welled behind her eyes, so quickly that it surprised her. She looked up to her partner, brow furrowed.

  “If he’s involved…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. The events of the night flashed in her head; the shadowy figure hovering over her, haunting her. Shaw’s hands on her body as she invited him to her bed. He had been an escape that evening. If he was somehow teamed up with Joel…

  “If he’s involved,” Lawrence coaxed. “Then he took advantage of you and your trust. That’s all there is to it.”

  Olivia shook her head, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she let her eyes squeeze shut. She didn’t know what hurt her more. How wrong she’d been about him? Or the fact that the same hands he’d touched every part of her body with had also ripped open a woman’s stomach and dragged out her vital organs.

  “What have I done?” she whispered, pulling her auburn hair away from her face.

  “Nothing,” Lawrence reassured her. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Quickly wiping tears off of her face, Olivia took a big inhale through her nose. The memory of Andrew in her house—in her bed—began to boil her blood.

  “I need to talk to him. Now,” she emphasised, coldly passing around Lawrence to grab her bag that hung on the back of her chair.

  “Liv,” Lawrence began to plead, but she could hear the resignation in his voice even as he said it.

  “Do you want to drive, or should I?” she demanded, not even bothering to look over her shoulder as she marched toward her front door. A resigned sigh echoed from behind her.

  “I’ll drive,” he replied, already following her lead.

  As they walked out to the car, Olivia could tell that Lawrence was toying with whether or not it was a good idea. By the time they climbed into the car and pulled away from her cottage, however, she knew he had come to terms with the fact that they were confronting Shaw together.

  21

  The drive to PC Andrew Shaw’s flat took about twenty minutes, during which the detective duo sat in utter silence. It occurred to Olivia that it might be worth it to discuss strategy with Dean, or even just take her mind off the situation at hand, but rage had gripped her tightly and seethed deep inside her. Taking time away from her focus on Shaw and what she was going to say upon confronting him just didn’t feel possible.

  Olivia grimaced as they arrived at his place, remembering that one hazy morning she had woken up in his room. Nothing had happened at that point—truth be told, Andrew had barely been on her radar—but it had initiated a dangerous game between the two of them.

  I never should have got drunk at Susan’s party, she silently begrudged herself as the two detectives removed themselves from the car. None of this would have happened.

  “How do you want to do this?”

  Olivia’s eyebrows raised at Lawrence’s question; she had assumed words would flow once she saw him, but now they simply escaped her.

  “I’m... not sure,” she admitted, biting her lip. “On the one hand, we could act coy, pretend like we’re bringing him into our independent investigation.”

  “Or we could be upfront immediately,” Dean finished Olivia’s thought before she could get to it.

  “Exactly.” She studied her partner’s face as the wind pulled at her hair. He met her stare, still not one hundred percent on-board with the idea.

  “What do you think Shaw would respond to best?” he asked with an almost imperceptible tilt of his head.

  She wrinkled her nose, finally turning to look at the building.

  “I think regardless of what’s going on,” she reasoned, “his hero complex means we can appeal to his pride. Act like we’re invested in his thoughts on the case, see if he gives anything up.”

  Lawrence nodded slowly.

  “And if he doesn’t give anything away?”

  Even the thought made Olivia’s stomach lurch once more.

  “Then we call his burner phone number right in front of him,” she answered. “See if we can spook a reaction.” As she spoke, her confidence in the plan grew, though she could tell by her partner’s face that he still maintained a level of scepticism.

  “My main concern is how off the books this is,” he admitted after a pregnant pause.

  Olivia shrugged in response.

  “What are the chances that Andrew actually does anything incriminating if we immediately take him into the station, though?” Olivia understood where her partner was coming from; they needed to be able to build a case if they had any hope of charges sticking. But she wanted to nail Shaw—and nail him quickly. Having him lawyer up would only result in losing any chance of finding anything. “Plus, it’s not like we’re going to get a warrant for his arrest with how little we have going for us currently.”

  Lawrence pursed his lips, and Olivia knew that he knew she was right. There wasn’t another way.

  “Right then,” he sighed. “I’ll let you lead the way. Just,” he warned, making purposeful eye contact, “don’t do anything that he can use against you, Liv.”

  A protest that she would never jeopardise the case like that died against Olivia’s lips. In that instance, she realised that she wanted nothing more than to shove Andrew against a wall and scream bloody murder until he admitted that he was complicit in the murder of their three victims.

  But even as anger tinged her vision red and asked her limbs to wrap her fingers around his neck, she knew that nothing would come of it—aside from a suspension and probably even getting fired. She had let her temper get out of hand with Francesca Atkinson; Dean had seen that, and she had no doubt he would be watching her closely today. Especially if she wanted to be cleared to run her own team again.

  “I just want to strangle him,” she admitted under her breath, unable to meet her partner in the eye.

  “I know,” he assured her. Is that sympathy in his voice? “But that won’t give us any answers. And you need that more than you need any sort of vengeance.”

  Olivia’s face reddened; sometimes she hated how well he knew her.

  “I’ll keep it together,” she promised, to herself as much as to Dean.

  “I know you will,” he agreed. “Now lead the way.”

  With one drawn out sigh, Olivia turned to finally face Andrew’s apartment. Steeling herself, she marched forward.

  22

  Olivia's heart pounded ceaselessly in her ches
t. It felt as though something was trying to rip itself out of her ribs, desperately pushing outward to free itself.

  They were facing PC Andrew Shaw’s door, both detectives attempting nonchalance despite the stakes they knew this visit held.

  The investigation was still technically pending until Dr James concluded his autopsies, but it was still risky to even try something of this nature—much less outside of the formality of the CID.

  But Olivia needed to know now, needed to look Constable Shaw in the eye and see if

  underneath his jovial and flirtatious attitude, there lay a monster.

  Rustling behind the door snapped Olivia out of her reverie. She gave Lawrence a knowing look before returning her gaze to it.

  Keep calm, she assured herself. There's no way he knows that you're on to him.

  Doubt crawled its way up her throat, clamouring for purchase, but she quickly swallowed it down. There was no time for hesitation.

  With a click, the latch sounded, and the door pushed slightly open.

  "Liv?” Shaw's voice, familiar and chipper, sent heat through Olivia's checks.

  He barely opened the door, opting to peek his head out rather than invite her to look fully inside his flat. Why won’t you let me see inside, Andrew?

  “What a lovely surprise. I wasn't expecting to see you today." His voice quickly turned charming and flirtatious, hiding any shock he may have had at Olivia’s sudden arrival to his door. He certainly knew what he was doing—she had no doubt about that.

  Lawrence cleared his throat, stepping into Andrew’s line of sight. The constable's face, previously open and full of mischief, immediately hardened. Olivia didn't think that Shaw was capable of looking embarrassed or bashful, but his response to Lawrence certainly brought him closer than she’d ever seen.

  "Detective Inspector Lawrence," Andrew quickly sputtered out. "Make that two delightful individuals I hadn't anticipated running into today.” His eyes darted between the two detectives, not quite yet at unease but certainly reaching toward nervousness.

  "Sorry to interrupt your weekend, " Olivia quickly diverted with a coy smile, though it

  made her stomach lurch to play sweet with someone who may have been involved with cannibalistic murders. "Do you mind if we have a quick chat?" She kept her voice cheery, almost upbeat.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he replied easily, though something still seemed slightly off in his delivery. They all stood there awkwardly for a moment, Shaw pressed tightly through the door frame, Dean and Olivia hovering just outside of his flat.

  "May we come in?" DI Lawrence was forthright in his request, though he kept his face rather disinterested.

  "Ah. About that," Andrew sighed, making a big show of it. "I'm actually—I have a visitor at the moment." His gaze darted over to Olivia briefly, who felt a deep flush of heat rush into her chest at the glance.

  It didn’t take much more than that statement to imply exactly what was going on and why Shaw had been acting so coy around the doorway. I’m a fool, Olivia thought to herself.

  "If it's all right with you,” the constable suggested, gesturing with the nod of his head, “we can chat in the hallway.”

  Olivia could tell that Lawrence was stifling a groan; it was hard to not immediately saddle her partner with a knowing look once Shaw mentioned a guest, however.

  It wasn't as though she and the constable had any sort of agreement. In fact, she’d done her best to insist it was a one-time thing when it had happened. And especially after the knowledge that Andrew kept a burner phone used to communicate with Joel Turner, it wasn’t as if she wanted anything else to do with him. Still, the thought that he had already moved on to another conquest made Olivia feel dirty somehow.

  Perhaps Duracell was an apt nickname because of the speed with which he moved from woman to woman, as well as referencing his other energetic qualities. It made her already confused head spin even more.

  “Excuse me for just one moment," Andrew practically drawled out, and as he retreated back into his flat, Olivia was met with the rising horror that he probably scarcely peeked his head out because he was barely dressed.

  “What a bastard, " Dean sighed with the shake of his head.

  Olivia gave an attempt at nodding in agreement, though the sinking feeling in her chest overpowered any real enthusiasm in her response.

  "Liv, if you want, I can do this on my own,” he offered, stealing a glance over to his partner.

  She shook her head emphatically.

  "No. No, it's all right. He's trying to get under my skin,” she noted. “If I let him, then what use am I? We can use our… relations to our advantage."

  Her partner gave her an expectant look but didn't push her any further on the subject.

  "All right, now, what's this about?" Andrew queried, pushing the door open to join Dean and Olivia in the hallway. He had on a t-shirt, tight grey joggers that left nothing to the imagination, and Olivia suspected a fresh round of cologne based on the strong smell of sandalwood that followed him out of his flat.

  "As flattered as I am to see the two of you at my door,” he smirked, “my hunch is that you're here for business, not pleasure."

  Each sly remark from Shaw had Olivia more and more ready to launch herself at him in a furious rage. He was egging them on, teasing her even as he had a “guest” in his flat.

  Stay calm, she reminded herself, allowing the time to take a deep breath before responding.

  "Dean and I have been talking,” she started, “and we have reason to believe PC Joel Turner wasn't acting alone."

  Shaw's eyebrows raised, but the expression of surprise didn't quite meet his eyes.

  "I thought the case was just about wrapped up?" he asked.

  He always was a fan of playing dumb, Olivia supposed. Never quite letting on all that he noticed in a situation.

  Everyone in the hallway knew that Andrew was smarter than that.

  "I think we all know that it only being Joel is just a tad too easy,” Dean remarked. “He’s a brilliant scapegoat, sure, but he doesn’t meet all of the qualities we were expecting from our killer.” Tactful yet pointed.

  "You two know the case better than me,” Shaw responded with a shrug. Was that nonchalance or a challenge?

  “I was hoping we could go over the evening I was attacked by the killer in the woods," Olivia interrupted. Andrew let a smirk dance at the corner of his lips, and it took everything in Olivia's will power not to immediately punch him.

  To his credit, Shaw seemed to realise that a smirk at the mention of Olivia’s close encounter with death wasn’t his best move. His eyes widened almost immediately.

  "Sorry, that was a poor response," he quickly backtracked. "At first, I thought you meant the events later in the evening, but now I know you what you actually mean, and yes, God that was truly awful, and I’m sorry that it happened to you, Liv.”

  At the reference to Andrew and Olivia's night together, Lawrence stepped right up into the constable's face, practically breathing down his neck.

  Olivia's partner was never usually one to be the alpha male, so his intense shift in attitude shocked her.

  “Don't even think about bringing that up," he growled into Shaw's face, who immediately looked repentant. "We're here to discuss the case, not your extracurricular activities.” His voice had become almost gravelly, dark, and threatening.

  Olivia and Andrew looked equally stunned by Dean’s outburst. Tension stretched itself into the silence, digging between the two men who still stood mere inches apart.

  "Hey. Hey," Olivia quietly whispered, a gentle warning that helped release the animosity brewing in the air. She gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tugged him away from Shaw.

  He stepped back and inhaled deeply.

  "Again, I’m sorry. That was out of line, " Andrew admitted to Olivia, and though she didn’t know how to trust him anymore, he certainly seemed sincere in his apology. "Next time, though, Dean, I believe Liv can spea
k for herself."

  He spoke the words through gritted teeth, and Olivia's stomach turned at the thought that she might need to act as referee to the two adult men. She felt her partner’s wrist tense within her hand, and she gave it another pull toward her.

  "Now, what was it about that night that you wanted to go over again?” Andrew asked, bringing them back on track.

  Was that sincerity that she heard in his voice? She thought that seeing the constable in person would solidify her suspicions, that she would look at him and immediately know the secrets he harboured. Instead, she simply found herself more confused than ever.

  "In the forest, when he attacked me,” she answered. “Did you notice anything. No matter how small?” Emotion spilled forth in her voice, and she hated that her words betrayed how vulnerable she still felt when she thought back to that night, the killer hovering over her and promising that he'd be back for her. Terror still gripped her heart when she recalled it.

  "You took off after Joel.” Shaw started to recount his memory slowly, his gaze wandering off. He took a deep breath. "You were fast. By the time I’d realised you were running after him, you were already mostly out of sight. The forest got thick quickly, and it was hard to follow your torch light. At one point it disappeared completely. I called out for you, but you weren't answering.”

  Olivia let her eyes shut, blocking out the rest of the world. Closing off her sight brought her back to the night; she could hear Andrew rustling about searching for her, her masked assailant covering her mouth with his hand. Stroking her hair. Olivia shivered, but still she nodded at the constable’s retelling.

  "He had a hand over my mouth, but I remember you shouting," she agreed. She could feel both Shaw’s and Lawrence's eyes on her, making sure she was okay. As if that was ever something she'd be fine and dandy about.

  “Right, well, eventually, I heard you call out my name. I rushed to the direction of your voice as quickly as I could. When I found you, he was already long gone. Nothing but the woods around us.” His voice became grimmer with every word out of his lips.