Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,44
my God!”
Sherwood’s son supported her arm and led her into the other main room of the pub—a dining area. He indicated to Ingrid and Gurley to follow. Gurley glanced at Ingrid. Ingrid shrugged back at him. The woman’s response had seemed a little extreme, in the circumstances. They hadn’t actually explained what it was about Foster they wanted to discuss. She was leaping to her own negative conclusions. Ingrid wondered if that meant the woman had a guilty conscience.
Once they were settled at a corner table, well away from any curious customers, Ingrid started over. “We’d like to speak to you about Kyle Foster because we believe he may try to contact you.”
The woman said nothing. Her gaze was focused in the middle distance.
“Has he made contact with you since yesterday morning?”
Yvonne Sherwood’s eyes opened wide, her lips parted slightly. After a beat she seemed to recover. “Why would he contact me?”
“We have reason to believe you know First Lieutenant Foster quite well,” Ingrid said, not wanting to reveal the details of Glen Cooper’s sighting just yet.
“Who told you that?”
“Do you know him?”
“He comes in for a drink now and then. But that’s true for a lot of men from the base. Doesn’t mean I know them all.” She started to scratch her forearm as if something was irritating her skin.
“We believe he may try to return to the area.”
“Surely he knows this is the worst place he could come.”
“Can you explain what you mean by that?”
“If he doesn’t want to get caught, why would he come back here?”
“Perhaps he wants to give himself up.”
Sherwood shook her head. “Why would he?”
“But surely that would be better for Kyle, better for Tommy. Better for everyone. Don’t you want to see him safely in custody?” Ingrid did her best to keep her expression as neutral as possible. She didn’t want to influence the woman’s response.
The bar manager swallowed. “Of course. We all want to make sure Tommy’s safe. But I was just trying to put myself in Kyle’s position.”
Gurley leaned back in his chair. His gaze hadn’t left the woman’s face.
“Can you think why he might come back here?” Ingrid continued.
“I can’t imagine, that seems like a stupid thing to do. Are you sure you’ve got your facts straight? Who told you he was going to come back?”
“We can’t share that information with you, I’m afraid, ma’am.” Ingrid leaned in a little closer. “How well do you know Kyle Foster?”
Sherwood stopped scratching her arm. Her nails had left long red marks. “I told you. I don’t really know him at all. He comes in here every Saturday with some of the other dads from football. They have a couple of drinks. Maybe play some pool. The kids amuse themselves outside—we have a climbing frame and swings in the garden. My son plays in the team too.”
Ingrid glanced over her shoulder toward the bar in the other room.
“Not Marcus! My youngest, Luke.”
“So does your husband take Luke to the match every week? Maybe he knows Kyle a little better? Maybe we should speak to him.”
“I don’t have a husband.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“No need to be sorry—he’s not dead or anything. A dead weight, maybe. That’s why I got rid of him. Useless lazy sod.” Her nostrils flared slightly. “I take Luke to football, Marcus looks after everything here.”
“Did you ever get a sense from Foster or Tommy that there might have been problems at home? Anything that might have indicated a recent change in Kyle Foster’s state of mind?”
“No, I’m sure everything at home was fine. There’s nothing wrong with Kyle Foster’s mind.” She answered emphatically, without a moment’s hesitation.
Ingrid wondered how Sherwood could be so sure if she hardly knew Foster. She glanced at Gurley.
“I know what they keep saying on the news about all that post traumatic whatnot, making a big thing of it,” Sherwood said, unprompted. “I heard one of the other dads talk to Kyle about it once. There’d been documentary on the television about PTSD. How it was under-diagnosed in the army. Kyle said he’d seen a few of his Air Force buddies really get it bad.” While she was talking about Foster the expression on her face had softened. It was obvious to Ingrid that she liked the guy.
“Kyle Foster was seen in the village early this morning.” Gurley blurted, no doubt getting impatient with the way Ingrid’s questioning was going. “There’s no point in protecting him, it’ll only make things worse. Did he contact you?”
What the hell