Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,83
police station at all?”
“There’s no story,” Ingrid said again. “Nothing to splash across the front page of tomorrow’s Evening News. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh I’m sure you are.” Tate pulled a pack of cigarettes from her purse, shook one out and lit it with an antique silver lighter. She exhaled, blowing the smoke behind her. “I do have something else in mind for the headline tomorrow, as it happens.”
“I’m not interested.”
“No? How about I run it past you? I was thinking of focusing on your absolute lack of competence. Your inability to track down a man and his eight-year-old son. You can’t blame this one on the boys in blue. You’re all equally culpable. And as far as I can see, equally useless.”
Ingrid started to edge away. She was actually inclined to agree with Tate. They had failed at every turn. Especially after getting so close to Kyle Foster in Suffolk. It was pitiful. How was he managing to keep Tommy so well hidden?
“Still nothing to say? Don’t you have some embassy approved excuses to reel out?”
Ingrid’s phone started to ring. Relieved, she dug it out of her purse and glanced at the screen. It was Natasha McKittrick. “I have to take this.”
“Of course you do.”
Ingrid answered the phone as she hurried up Lamb’s Conduit Street. She wanted to get away. From Tate. From Gurley. If she hadn’t felt Tate’s gaze boring into her back, she might even have broken into a run. “Hey, it’s good to hear a friendly voice.”
“I haven’t said anything yet.” McKittrick sounded decidedly downbeat.
“You just saved me from the clutches of Angela Tate.”
“What’s that old hack after now?”
“The usual. My soul.”
“Tell her nothing.” She let out a long sigh.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Mills. Have you seen him recently?”
Ingrid wasn’t sure how to answer. She said nothing.
“I’m taking your silence as proof that you have. What happened? I’ve never seen him like this.”
“Like what?” Ingrid worried again that something had happened the previous night that she had absolutely no recollection of.
“I’m used to him moping about when he’s seen you, like a lovestruck teenager, too embarrassed even to take the mildest of piss-taking. But today he’s just been… weird.”
“How?” Now Ingrid was getting really concerned.
“It’s hard to describe. He seems… resigned somehow. That’s the only word I can come up with.”
“About what?”
“About you, I suppose. Like the life’s drained out of him. What on earth happened between the two of you?”
“Nothing.”
“Something must have. Did you dump him?”
“No! Really—nothing happened. As a matter of fact…” Ingrid wasn’t sure she wanted to share this with McKittrick. She certainly didn’t want to be teased about it. She wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
“What? You have to tell me now.”
“Nothing happened between us and I’d really hoped it might.”
“Whoa! You’re telling me neither of you made a move? Where was this?”
“My apartment, late last night.”
“I had no idea you planned to get together yesterday.”
Ingrid turned right into Great Ormond Street, not entirely clear where she was headed. “It wasn’t planned. I needed someone to talk to, your cell went straight to voicemail. So I called Ralph. It was a spur of the moment thing. He came over. We talked.” She picked up speed, hoping to walk off the awkwardness she was feeling.
“And?”
“And nothing—I told you already—nothing happened. I woke up a few hours later and he was gone.” She reached the end of the street and stopped.
“You fell asleep on him? As insults go, that’s pretty damning.”
“I was drunk. He knew that. I hoped he wouldn’t take it personally.” Ingrid looked up and down the street, unable to decide which direction to take. If she turned right she would loop back around to the police station. “I think I may have blown it with him. That the moment has passed. Like we’re destined to be friends and nothing more. He was a shoulder to cry on when I needed it.”
“Maybe you should give him a call. Let him know how you really feel.”
“The mood I’m in right now, that is the last thing I should do.”
“Tate really got to you that badly?”
“No, not Tate. This whole investigation. It’s stalled and I’m not sure how to fix it.”
“You’ll think of something. You always do.”
“Gurley’s asked Sol to take me off the case.”
“That’s a bit extreme.
Ingrid’s phone beeped in her ear. “I have another call. I should probably get it. Maybe we can talk later?”
“Let’s make it over a coffee, I don’t want you falling asleep on me.”
Ingrid hung up and answered the