Aftermath by Casey Hill Read Free Book Online

Kennedy got into it. He sauntered over and put his meaty hand on Annabel’s back and patted it gently.
    "It's okay, love," he said gently. "We'll get him. It's okay."
    Reilly reached into her bag, found some tissues then passed them across the table.
    “Please continue," she said, trying to get her back on track. "You were saying that you came home and saw your husband … can you describe the scene in as much detail as you can remember please.”
    Recovering quickly, Annabel took them and composed herself, wiping her face and nose.
    Chris remained alongside her, concerned and sympathetic, gently tapping her arm as she recovered.
    Suddenly, before she realized it, Reilly kicked him in the shin beneath the table. He jumped back, startled and then glared at her with a mystified expression. Fortunately, Morrison didn't seem to notice.
    “I … saw him lying on the ground on top of broken glass, the dining table all smashed up. He wasn't saying anything…. there was so much blood. It seemed like there was blood all over the kitchen. So I checked on him, used my jacket to try and stop the bleeding, and then took out my phone and called 999..." she trailed off again, apparently reliving the scene.
    “Did you get a look at his attacker at all?”
    “I’m not sure … it’s all such a blur … I thought I saw someone slip off out of the corner of my eye - ”
    “Slip off where - through the hallway and out the front door, or out the back way?” Reilly pressed. “And can you give us a description of this person?”
    “I don’t know, I really can’t remember. I was just so … shocked. It was like everything just … froze.”
    “Anything at all would be really helpful, Mrs Morrison.”
    “He was wearing black I think, and his head was covered - a hoodie I think. Like I said - ”
    “Approximate height, weight?”
    “I’m sorry, I really have no idea. It all happened so fast …”
    "What time was this?” Kennedy asked, taking over.
    She shook her head, "I don't know. It was late. I think maybe 2.30?"
    "Where were you till then? Sounds like a late night.”
    "I sometimes go out with the production team on Friday nights. We celebrate wrapping up the week, and the fact that we can all sleep in at weekends."
    Finally Chris started contributing. "You went out for drinks with people from Good Morning Ireland?”
    “Yes. Sometimes we meet at Roly’s for dinner, and then onwards to the Gate House for drinks. Just down the road from the studio.”
    "Great pub grub in the Gate House," Kennedy commented unnecessarily.
    Reilly continued. “So who exactly was with you last night - at the restaurant and the pub?”
    Annabel suddenly recoiled. “Wait a second…. why does that matter, and why are you questioning me like I’m some kind of criminal?"
    Chris jumped in quickly. “Don’t worry, this is just a standard line of questioning."
    “The entire production crew was there," she barked, clearly incensed. "Call them if you like. I think I've had about enough of this."
    "Please, Mrs. Morrison,” Chris implored “we still have a few questions..."
    "Bullshit!" she retorted standing. "Somewhere in this city the man who broke into my house and stabbed my husband is running from you. Hiding from you. And you are here in the hospital--instead of out there looking for him. For god’s sake my daughter could have been in the house … I suggest strongly that you people put your energies where they belong. On finding the bastard that tried to murder my husband.”
    Annabel stood up and stormed out of the room--but before closing the door added, "I'm not saying another word without my solicitor. Are we understood, detectives?"
    And she was gone. The three remained quiet for a couple breaths before Kennedy muttered. "Well that went well.”
    "What in the hell is wrong with you two?" Reilly asked, frustrated.
    “What?"
    "You especially. Oh let me give you my shoulder Annabel, you poor, sweet little angel.”
    "The woman was upset