The Vow - Debbie Howells Page 0,74
the two colours together symbolise blood and tears. Anyway,’ she pauses. ‘Amy took them into her kitchen, where she discovered that instead of water, their stems were encased in a bag of blood.’
As I gasp in shock, both of them stare at me. Then as she goes on, her eyes hold mine. ‘We had a sample of it analysed. It was human blood – the same type as Mr Roche’s.’
‘God.’ I’m silent, thinking quickly. I’ve had clients stoop to the lowest of low acts, especially where matters of the heart are concerned, but even so, I’m shocked. Then I look at them. ‘You surely can’t think I had anything to do with this? I don’t even know what Matt’s blood type is.’
‘Apparently, neither did Ms Reid.’ DI Lacey’s voice is quiet. ‘Clearly someone wanted to upset her. They succeeded.’ He goes on. ‘Ms Rose, what can you tell us about the other people in Mr Roche’s life?’
I shrug. ‘Not much. He talked about his boss, David Avery – and one or two people he worked with. But I never had a chance to meet his friends. Even at its best, ours was a difficult relationship.’
‘I can imagine.’ DI Lacey’s voice is dry. ‘How did you cope with that?’
‘It wasn’t ideal. But I had a choice. Be patient and wait. If not, I could leave.’
‘Did your patience ever wear thin, Ms Rose?’ The DI’s face seems to loom closer.
I know where he’s going with this. Having seen his type in action, I’m not about to be intimidated by him. ‘Of course it did. We broke up for a while. But since we got back together, no.’ I speak coolly. ‘I trusted him. He gave me absolutely no reason not to.’
Glancing at PC Page, DI Lacey sits back in his chair. ‘Until now.’
Reluctantly, I nod. This time, I can’t argue with him.
He doesn’t comment. Shortly after, the interview ends and I’m free to leave. But as I walk away, I feel soiled, by the stale air in the office, by their air of suspicion. A stark reminder of how not being believed feels, it’s one I could do without.
I don’t go straight back to the office. Instead, I walk to the seafront, where an easterly breeze has picked up. As it chills my skin, I watch a couple of surfers catching waves, the spray briefly breaking the green water, feeling my mind start to calm. Casting off my sense of uncertainty, I have to believe the police will find Matt. That justice will be done and everyone will know I’m completely innocent.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
With the knowledge that she’s being held in custody now, my obsession with Amy’s behaviour grows, knowing she’ll be playing a game, pretending she’s vulnerable, a victim, when she’s anything but. A scenario I can’t allow to get to me.
It’s taken years to build my life, reach where I am in my career. Achievements I can’t let anything threaten, not even Matt’s disappearance. Whatever happens from here on, I have to be ready, have my own game plan. But then I take a call that completely throws me.
As I drive, I’m irritated that yet again, I have no choice, cursing the traffic, thinking about the meetings I’ve had to cancel this morning at short notice. I plan my days at work carefully, prepare methodically. Disruptions have consequences, which is why it annoyed me when PC Page called again, most insistent that I went over there straight away.
It’s a beautiful morning – the faintest hint of warmth in the winter sun. At the police station, I park outside, hesitating as I gather my thoughts. When I go in, I wait only a few minutes before PC Page appears.
‘Good morning, Ms Rose. Would you come with me?’ Her brusque, matter of fact, manner disconcerts me.
But there’s no way I’m letting her see that. ‘Sure.’ I walk with her up the same corridor as last time. ‘Can I ask what this is about?’
‘I’d like to wait till the DI gets here.’ She glances at her watch. ‘He won’t be long.’
The DI? Again? This time, alarm bells start sounding in my head. Then I’m annoyed. ‘I’ve cancelled meetings to come here at such short notice. I hope this isn’t going to take too long?’
She doesn’t reply, as instead of her office, she opens a door into an interview room with a small table and plastic chairs. ‘Have a seat. I’ll just get rid of this.’ Picking up an empty cup carelessly left behind, she