Follow the Leader by Mel Sherratt Read Free Book Online Page B

hungry, and I have to go out again soon. That’s why I’m back a little earlier.’
    ‘Do you have to?’ Rhian pouted. ‘I thought we could have some afternoon delight, so to speak.’ She waggled her eyebrows comically, waiting for him to acknowledge her, but he said nothing, just kept his eyes on the screen.
    A few moments later, knowing she wasn’t going to get his attention, Rhian moved away with another sigh. He was good at that – ignoring her, making her feel invisible when he had more pressing things on his mind. Still, taking the rough with the smooth was something she was used to. With Joe, the rough was bad but the smooth was always worth waiting for.

    Day two of the enquiry had been frustrating for Allie. So far there were no leads. No witnesses, no ID from forensics that could put anyone else on the scene. Any CCTV cameras that would have been on the area didn’t reach down and underneath the bridge to show what had happened on the towpath. Finally, she’d tasked Sam with trawling through the ones that panned around the city to see if there was a chance they had been in range, but again, there had been nothing. Despite media coverage on the local radio stations and front-page coverage of the story in The Sentinel , no witnesses had come forward with any further details. They were at a loss at the moment until more forensics came back.
    As her hands flew over her keyboard, her mind went back to the letter E that had been found in Mickey Taylor’s pocket. It wasn’t even the beginning of Mickey’s name: the worst scenario they had been going over in that evening’s briefing was that it might be the beginning of a word. If so, it could be a sign of more to come – which was a horrible thought in itself. Everyone was certainly stumped as to why it was there. Without the magnetic letter, no one would have been any the wiser – the murder would have been taken for a random attack, a robbery gone wrong. But the letter changed everything.
    She finally left the station just before nine that evening. Before heading home, she popped over to Riverdale Residential Home on the off chance that her sister might still be awake. At the main doors, she pressed her key fob to the monitor to allow her access. Walking through the now-darkened reception area and along the brightly lit corridor to Karen’s room always reminded Allie of how long she had been coming there, how seventeen years of her sister’s life had been taken away from them both. Still, it was pleasant, and the staff and the facilities were second to none, and it was only a mile from where she and Mark lived in Werrington. Her sister had the best they could offer her.
    Karen was propped up in bed when she walked into her room. Her dark hair was washed, her fringe held back with a purple cli p. H er face seemed a little more puffy than usual but that was because Doctor Merchant had tried a different cream on her psoriasis and it had caused a slight reaction. She noted that the patches looked better than the last time she’d visited, though.
    Allie wiped a bit of dribble from Karen’s chin and bent to kiss her forehead. ‘Hey, Sis. How are you doing?’
    Karen groaned, an angry response, her eyes firmly set on the small television screen behind her.
    ‘Not sulking, are you?’ Allie’s shoulders drooped. ‘I’m sorry; I’ve been busy with a case.’
    Karen groaned, louder this time. Allie breathed a sigh of relief: it was a frustrated groan, not one of annoyance. She turned to look at the television, catching Bradley Walsh walking across it in a crumpled flasher-mac–type coat. She stepped to one side with a smile, realising that she was blocking her sister’s view.
    ‘Well, well, now,’ she teased. ‘I can’t have you missing Law and Order. ’
    She drew up a chair and sat down beside the bed, concentrating on her own murder case as Detective Sergeant Ronnie Brooks tried to solve his. Allie hoped Mickey Taylor’s murder wouldn’t be one