Once again, she’d had to start their meeting with an apology. She didn’t have long – the Lola Evans and Sarah Taylor cases were keeping the whole team busy, and that evening she and Alex would be visiting the support group that both of the young women had attended. There were also the apologies for all the previous times she had cancelled on him, often at the last moment. Scott had casually brushed aside every apology, seeming to unquestioningly accept the busy nature of Chloe’s job. She didn’t think that he was by any lengths a pushover, but he seemed to have a patience that she could only dream of. She wished it was really all that simple, and that the job was the only thing that had kept her from him all those times.
Sitting opposite him now, she realised how much she liked him. Chloe hadn’t liked anyone this much in a long time. Liking him was the very thing that had sent her running from every arrangement to meet. Getting closer to him would inevitably mean having to reveal things she had managed to keep hidden for so long. There were things she wouldn’t know how to explain, that couldn’t possibly ever make sense to him, even with the best of explanations. They still didn’t make sense to her.
And then there would be the issue of sex. The thought of getting physically close to Scott was something that kept sending her running, despite how attracted to him she found herself. It was complicated, but how was she supposed to explain that to him?
‘I was starting to think I might have upset you in some way, or—’
‘God, no,’ Chloe interrupted him, a little too keenly. ‘It’s not you, I—’ She winced at her own clichéd words. ‘Work has been hectic – that really isn’t an excuse.’
‘I can imagine. I’ve seen the news.’
Chloe gave a sad smile.
‘You OK?’
She nodded. ‘I like being busy. This is just the wrong kind of busy, you know?’
‘It must be really tough, seeing what you see. I spend my days hoping something vaguely exciting might happen. You know, a kid loses an armband or something.’
She laughed. ‘It can’t be all that bad.’
‘It is. Anyway, you’re looking well.’ He flashed a smile.
She knew he was lying to be polite. In truth, she wasn’t looking great at all. The stress of her encounters with Patrick Sibley and then with the superintendent felt etched into her skin. And then there’d been the visit to her parents’ house. She hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in almost a week, although that was becoming something of a regular occurrence.
She sipped her lemonade. ‘I’ve messed you about. I haven’t meant to.’
‘It’s OK. I understand.’
She knew he didn’t, not really, but Chloe supposed it was kind of him to pretend to. She considered how uncomplicated Scott Mackenzie’s life might be. She knew this of him: he was twenty-seven; he worked at the leisure centre in Llanishen; he shared a rented flat with a friend he had known since school; he was an only child; his parents lived in Whitchurch, where he had grown up. He saw his parents every weekend, usually when he went over to their house for Sunday dinner, which his dad always cooked. It was this image of domestic family bliss that Chloe knew she had been partly captivated by. It was so unlike anything she had ever known.
Scott seemed to think of his life as boring, but it was the very kind of boring Chloe had always craved.
‘I would like to see you, if you’re still OK with that.’
‘You’re seeing me now.’ He shot her another smile and Chloe looked away. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to respond this way to a handsome face.
‘I don’t want to mess you about again,’ she said, ‘but I’d like to get this case out of the way and then… we’ll see what happens.’
She was lying. Chloe didn’t want to wait for the current case to be over – what real sense was there in that? There would be others, the next thing to keep her from living what other people might regard as a ‘normal’ life, but what was normal anyway? What she was really hoping for – trying to ask for without having to say the words – was that Scott would wait for her until she had found her brother’s killer.
She just didn’t want to tell him that until after the job was done.
‘I can wait. Do you think you’ll be using the centre before then? Anyone might think you’d been avoiding the place.’ He said it with a slight smirk, his lip pulled in a half-smile.
Chloe felt her face flush. Before Christmas she had been going to the leisure centre twice, sometimes three times a week for a swim, but since meeting and then letting down Scott repeatedly she had abandoned the pool in favour of running. She hated running.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to—’ God, what was the matter with her today, she thought. She’d been reduced to someone she didn’t recognise: uncertain, apologetic, stammering. ‘I’ve just been busy, really. I haven’t been avoiding you.’
She knew he would see through the lie.
He smiled in an attempt to reassure her. ‘I’m just messing, you’re fine. Look, you let me know when you’re ready and we’ll go out for dinner or something. Be nice to share something a bit more adventurous than a lemonade together.’
There was a glimmer in his eye that made Chloe wonder whether Scott was actually referring to food at all. A nagging voice in the back of her mind questioned whether she was making a mistake. She liked him too much, and that was all wrong. She had Luke to focus on, and a murderer to help catch.
Did she need to prioritise, or could she juggle her responsibilities with some kind of artful balancing act?
Did she always have to sacrifice her own happiness?
Expecting him to wait for her suddenly seemed an unreasonable request. If he minded, it certainly hadn’t shown. She watched him circle a finger through the small puddle of water on the table. God, he was lovely, she thought. She imagined what it might feel like to have those hands on her body – that trace of those fingertips on her skin – and had to shake her mind from the thought when he looked back up at her.
Allowing herself to get any closer might prove a huge mistake. It had happened in the past: who was to say it wouldn’t happen again?
Her phone rang in her pocket, rousing her from her thoughts. She muttered an apology and retrieved her mobile, shooting Scott an apologetic smile as she answered the call.
This might be a mistake, Chloe thought, but she was no longer sure how many potential mistakes she was prepared to avoid.
What if, whilst avoiding all the potential mistakes, she missed the very thing that might lead to something perfect? In her heart, she knew she deserved to be happy. There were just so many reasons why her brain couldn’t yet allow it.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The sky was threatening rain, which once again seemed a fitting tribute to the mood inside the car. As Alex drove she couldn’t keep her thoughts from Sarah Taylor. She wondered for the hundredth time where she was now, whether she was still alive and, if she was, what was happening to her. She had to imagine that she was unharmed. While there remained that hope, there was still everything to hold on to.
The image of Lola Evans’s body still hadn’t left Alex’s mind. When she closed her eyes at night, the young woman’s water-ravaged face was the last thing she saw before eventually drifting into sleep. They couldn’t help her, but they could still help Sarah.
‘If it wasn’t Rachel who sent that text to Connor then who did?’ Chloe said, dragging Alex from her dark thoughts.