Текст книги "Wrong Place: A gripping serial killer crime thriller"

Автор книги: M. A. Comley

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

“I understand. Will you let me know once the results come back?” The solicitor handed Sally her business card.

“Of course. Thanks for attending today.”

Sally showed the woman the way out then slowly walked back upstairs to the incident room.

“Right, I need to action the forensic team to examine Dorling’s room at the B&B and his car, then I don’t know about you guys, but I’m ready for a well-deserved drink. Let’s wind things up and go to the Four Feathers, eh?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jack replied. The rest of the team nodded then tidied up their desks and switched off their computers.

“I’ll join you in a couple of minutes. I have a few things needing my attention before I call it a day.”

Jack chuckled. “In other words, folks, get the beers in before I get there.”

Sally narrowed her eyes at him. “Wait there.” She walked into her office and dipped her hand in her bag for her purse. She removed a fifty pound note, left her office and handed to Jack. “There. Wouldn’t want you being out of pocket, would we, Jack?” She turned back to her office, and mumbled loud enough for the team to hear, “Wouldn’t want your arse squeaking any louder than it does already.”

She heard the team laugh, and she struck an imaginary finger in the air, imagining her partner’s glare aimed at her retreating frame.

CHAPTER NINE

Sally spent the next hour celebrating Dorling’s arrest with the team. Feeling reservations on her part, she headed for home after consuming one glass of white wine. The team remained at the pub, engrossed in their jubilation of yet another case completed successfully. Sally pulled into the parking space at her flat then walked the hundred yards or so to her door. She stopped dead when she rounded the corner and saw the front door of her flat. Damn! Darryl. What the hell does he want?

Her ex-husband was banging on the door with his clenched fist, shouting out her name, and demanding to be let in. Two thoughts crossed her mind: either ring for backup and get him arrested for disturbing the peace or usher him into the flat before her neighbours got pissed off and called the police themselves.

Not wanting to feel uncomfortable with her new neighbours, Sally sucked in a large breath and approached her ex-husband. “Darryl? What are you doing here?”

He swayed a little when he turned to look at her, obviously drunk. “There you are. Sally, my darling wife! Come ‘ere.” He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away.

“I asked you what you’re doing here, Darryl?”

“I’ve come to see you. What a silly question, dearest,” he slurred, his voice rising. His eyes screwed up as he tried to focus on her.

Reluctantly, she pushed him through the front door ahead of her, glancing over her shoulder to see if any of her neighbours had come out to investigate the noise. Luckily, none of the neighbours had stirred.

Once she was inside, the old feelings of wariness she’d thought were buried suddenly resurfaced. She herded Darryl into the small living room then rushed past him into the tiny kitchen to put the kettle on. She knew that the only solution when he was in this state was to force gallons of black coffee down his neck. She returned to the living room to find him swaying in the centre of the room, repositioning his feet every few seconds as he surveyed all four corners of the living room. “This is shit.”

“I agree.” She left the room to prepare the coffee when she heard the switch sound on the kettle. Keep calm, girl. Let him say what he likes. You know what happens when you challenge him. With her inner voice’s instructions foremost in her mind, she returned to the living room and placed the two mugs of black coffee on the small table. She invited Darryl to sit in the only comfortable chair, volunteering to sit at the small table herself. But Darryl dropped lopsidedly into the other chair around the round table and just stared at her. Sally pushed his cup towards him.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it looks as though you need sobering up.”

“Not the damn coffee.” He struck the mug with the back of his hand and sent it hurtling across the room, where it hit the newly painted wall.

“That’s enough, Darryl,” she said, fear causing her voice to tremble.

“Is it?” he snarled, baring his sparkling white teeth, which he’d recently spent a fortune on, in spite of their hefty debts.

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I want you. You’re my wife. You belong to me.”

Sally shook her head and let out her breath slowly. Keep calm. Don’t let his temper escalate. “You’re wrong. I don’t belong to anyone, Darryl. I’m my own person. I also have a decree absolute stating that we’re no longer husband and wife.”

He leaned over the table, his face inches from hers, until she had the courage to pull away and recline against the back of her chair. Her heart raced, outrunning her thoughts. Experience told her what to expect when he was drunk and angry.

“We were married and remain married in the eyes of the church. I won’t let a shitty piece of paper come between us. You hear me?”

“I don’t want any trouble, Darryl. You have no right being here. The judge went out of his way to tell you to leave me alone. All I want to do is get on with my life, a stress-free life from now on.”

“We can do that together. Live together as a married couple again. Why not?” His brow furrowed deeply.

“It’s over. We’re over. Why can’t you accept that and just get on with your life?”

He rose from the table. Her stomach muscles clenched nervously when he moved towards her and towered over her. She stared ahead, focusing on the kitchen doorway instead of being drawn to look at him. He shuffled back and forth, as if trying to decide what to do next, then thankfully, returned to his seat. She swallowed, remoistening her dry throat.

“Why?” he repeated. “What went wrong?”

You name it, you did it. Anything and everything from gambling, drinking, womanising to frittering away all our money on ‘dead-cert money-making ideas’ your loser friends insisted you should invest in. “It’s simple. We fell out of love. There’s no need to search long and hard to find a reason, Darryl. We simply grew apart.”

“I didn’t. I’ve ached for you every day since we parted. A pilot’s life can be a very lonely existence. You just couldn’t get your head around that.”

“Is that why you turned to work colleagues in your times of need?” She flinched when the words emerged from her mouth. If she could have bitten her tongue in two at that moment, she would have happily done so as she watched his eyes widen in anger.

“You’re wrong. What are a few drinks after a long flight?”

“It wasn’t the drinks that concerned me. The selfies the pair of you took screwing each other this way and that were your undoing. They pushed me over the edge.” Shit! Now you’ve riled him. Why don’t you learn to keep your mouth shut?

He stood, tipping his chair backwards. He marched towards her, quickly covering the divide between them, and grabbed her jacket lapels before she had the chance to escape. Darryl hauled her to her feet. Their noses, as well as other parts of their bodies, touched. She made a point of staring into his angry eyes as she felt his erection grow against her thigh. Please no. Not again. Don’t let him hurt me. All the police training she’d been through over the years seemed to dissipate at that instant, just as it had deserted her throughout their abusive marriage. For once in your life, stick up for yourself. Don’t let him harm you anymore. Her inner voice demanded action, and she followed through on that advice.

She pushed at his chest, catching him off-guard. He toppled onto his backside on the floor, dazed. She leaned over him and shouted, “No more. You’ll never lay another hand on me. Do you understand?”

Darryl appeared to relax, but she refused to drop her guard, thinking that he was playing a trick on her. Finally, she backed away and dropped into her chair again. He gently got to his feet, still swaying a little, and returned to his chair.

“I’m sorry. Why can’t we just talk and try and work things out?” he pleaded softly.

“Because it’s over. O…V…E…R. Over, Darryl. When are you going to realise that?”

“But I still love you. I can’t switch my love off like a light switch. You love me, too, right?”

Sally looked him in the eye and shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t love you. Over the years, you’ve destroyed any respect or love I ever had for you. The truth is, I fell out of love with you a year after we got married. I didn’t have the heart to tell you, though. I’m not as stupid as you think I am. I knew you were screwing half the stewardesses on your trips, but I was so engrossed in my own work that I chose to ignore it. But those selfies brought everything to a head, and I could no longer put up with your womanising ways. I think half the time you believe you have the right to dip your dick where it suits. I have news for you, Darryl—you don’t. For my own safety, I had to call a halt to it. Haven’t you noticed over the past few years how many times I refused to have sex without you wearing a condom? I was scared of what disease you might infect me with. Yes, that might be an OTT reaction, but the thought of you screwing every stewardess you came into contact with used to fill me with disgust. I no longer have to face such fears, now that I’m single.”

“Who is he?” he spat at her.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? You think I have another man in my life, when I’ve had to deal with all the shit you’ve poured on me lately? Christ, if only you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Knew how you’ve succeeded in putting me off men for life. I swear I will never let a man get under my skin again. Never.”

“Yeah, you say that now. You will. No woman can live without having sex in their lives. You need us as much as we need you.”

“Really? How nineteenth century of you to even suggest that. You really have no idea. In your eyes, women are there to be used and abused at will, aren’t they? Be honest with me.”

His gaze drifted and in that moment, she knew she’d summed up her ex accurately for the first time in her life. How refreshing it was to have the freedom to do that since the divorce papers were finally signed.

“I loved you. I still love you, and I will get you back in my bed one day,” he replied, defiantly wringing his hands together on the table.

She stood up and motioned for him to leave. “No, I can categorically say that will never happen again. I despise you, Darryl. You ruined my life, the life we shared. We had it all, and you shattered it with your selfishness. Now get out of here and don’t come back.”

His shoulders slumped as he made his way to the front door. She kept her distance behind him. He opened the door and twisted to talk to her. She jumped back a few paces. He frowned. “Is that it? Is that what it has come to? That you fear me? Fear being within a few feet of me?”

“That about sums it up, Darryl, yes.”

He turned to face the front door again, but instead of walking through it, he slammed it shut. The next few seconds passed by in a flash. She had foolishly lowered her guard enough for him to get close again. His movements were like lightning. Was he pretending to be drunk all along? Within seconds, he had pinned her underneath him to the living room floor, his hand pressed firmly over her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Please, don’t let him do this to me. Not again!

CHAPTER TEN

Sally gingerly got out of bed the next morning, sore and bruised. The mental scarring she’d acquired throughout her marriage paled in comparison to what Darryl had done to her the previous evening. He’d finally left the flat an hour after the attack began. She knew she should have reported the assault to the police as soon as he left, but just like the times he’d attacked her before, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She was embarrassed. How would she be able to conduct her day-to-day business at the station, knowing that the people she worked with saw her as a victim? That thought prevented her from picking up the phone, every time.

She ran a bath then looked at her pitiful reflection in the mirror. Darryl had always hit her. In the past he’d left bruises only in places hidden from public view, but not this time. When she had flopped into bed, exhausted, the vision out of her left eye had become limited pretty darn quickly. Thankfully, the cold flannel she’d held in place whilst reliving the events in her bed, had successfully suppressed the swelling enough that her sight was at least sixty percent of what it usually was. The thought of ringing in sick never crossed her mind, though, probably because she feared Darryl would return to the flat for a repeat performance.

While the bath continued to fill, she laid out the make-up she would need far more than she usually wore to work. Frustration, pain, and stupidity ran through her like a high-speed train. Her newfound sanctuary was in tatters because of the one person she’d sworn she would never let step foot over the threshold. She should have known not to trust him. Why did I care so much about the neighbours?

After a quick bath, she applied a thick layer of make-up and pulled a black trouser suit from her wardrobe in spite of the sunshine filtering through her curtain, announcing that a warm, sunny day lay ahead.

Satisfied she’d covered the bruises, she shoved the make-up in her handbag and headed off to work without even having a cup of coffee or breakfast. The last thing she wanted to do was linger in the room where the attack had occurred. During the drive into work, she made a mental note to ring her mother and ask if she could stay there for a few days, until her fears of Darryl returning had subsided. She cringed at what her parents would say when they laid eyes on her.

She walked through the reception area with her head down then trotted briskly up the stairs to the incident room. Sally sighed a relieved breath when she found the room empty. It would give her enough time to grab a coffee and let the caffeine work its way into her system, where it could help combat her feelings of shame.

Halfway through her cup of strong black coffee, she heard the rest of the team arrive for duty. She continued with her paperwork, head down, determined to get a lot achieved early for a change. Panic struck and held a tight grasp around her heart when someone knocked on the door.

“Good morning, boss. You’re in early,” Jack said, sounding a little more cheerful than he had the day before.

Keeping her head down, she replied, “Morning, Jack. I shouldn’t be too long here. Get everyone organised, will you, please?”

“Sure thing.” He left the doorway and walked into the room. Sally froze. Out of the corner of her eye, her bad eye, she saw his shiny black shoes come to a standstill alongside her. “Boss? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Now, shoo… some of us have important work to do.”

His hand came into view, and she tried to turn her head away, but he caught her under the chin and angled her head his way. “Jesus… fucking… Christ! How the hell did you get that?”

“I had an accident after I left the pub. Clumsy really. I went arse over tip and ended up hitting my head on the pavement.”

Jack snorted. “No way. I don’t believe you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to believe me, Jack. This has nothing to do with you, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d just rather pretend it wasn’t there.”

“That’s gonna be hard to do. You can barely see out of it. I’m going round there.” He stomped back towards the door.

“Round where?” she shrieked anxiously.

“To thrash that son of a bitch.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You hear me?” She finally looked him directly in the eye.

“Why not? Jesus, look at the state of you! He can’t get away with that, Sally.”

“It’s over with. Just leave it alone, Jack.”

“I will not. If you don’t report him for assault, then I’ll do it.” Jack’s face grew redder and redder as he spoke.

“You can’t do that without my permission. Please, don’t subject me to any of that crap. I’ll deal—I am dealing—with it in my own way.”

“Seriously? No further action is going to come his way? With respect, boss, you need your head examined. I know what the bloody guy has put you through during the course of your marriage. Admittedly, this is the first time he’s left any physical signs of abuse, but surely that’s all the more reason to go after the fucker.”

“Jack, I appreciate your concern, but I brought this on myself.”

He threw his arms out to the side and let them slap against his thigh. “Spoken like a true victim. Have you heard yourself?”

She flinched. “Don’t let us fall out about this, Jack. I’ve stated that I no longer want to discuss this matter. Kindly abide by my wishes.”

“Yeah, I will, after I’ve taught the pillock a lesson or two.”

Sally tried to smile, but the pain in her cheek made her wince. “Heroic words that I really appreciate. However, I’d rather just focus on my work. That man has taken up too much of my valuable time over the years. I have no intention of letting him invade my thoughts a moment longer. Is that all right with you, partner?”

Jack sighed heavily. “If that’s what you want, Sally. I’ll tell you this, though, if ever that guy crosses my path, I won’t hesitate to give him a good hiding. No man should lay a hand on a woman. Ever. Those that do are bloody cowards.” He paused for a few seconds then added, “One last question and then the matter is closed between us.”

Sally prepared herself for the question she knew her astute partner was about to hit her with next. “Go on.”

Jack lowered his voice, “Is that all he did, Sally? Not that giving you a black eye isn’t enough. What I mean is—”

She held up her hand to prevent him from saying the actual words. “I know full well what you’re getting at. And no, it didn’t happen.” Sally swallowed and quickly shifted her gaze from Jack’s. I hope to God he believes me. There’s no telling what he’d do to Darryl if he ever learned the truth.

“Your word is enough for me. I still wish you’d let me have a few words in his ear.”

“It’s best left alone. I think he’s on his way to the States now anyway,” she lied, hoping to deter her partner further.

“And when is he likely to return?”

Sally tutted and shook her head. “I’m not his keeper. I have no idea, nor am I concerned. Now, let’s forget about this and get back to work.”

Jack shrugged reluctantly. “Yes, boss. What’s on the agenda today?”

“Well, I want to chase up the pathologist and see if the results from the other victims have come back yet, plus I need to ensure they’re treating Dorling’s room at the B&B and his car as a priority.”

“Okay, I’ll keep the momentum going with the team, make sure we can piece the evidence together without the usual flaws the barristers like to tear us apart with on the stand.”

“Good idea. Let’s nail the bastard down completely. One last thing before you get stuck in, Jack. How are things at home?”

A cloak of sadness shrouded his features. “We’re still trying to come to terms with things. We’ll get there. Let’s just say the atmosphere was a little less fraught at home last night between all parties concerned.”

“That’s a start. I’m sure things will turn out for the best, Bullet. Hey, maybe I should call you Granddad Bullet from now on?”

The startled look on Jack’s face made her chuckle.

“Jesus, you can be so warped at times. I’ll tell you one thing; this past week, there have been moments when I’ve wanted to be transferred back to the frontline in Afghanistan. At least out there, I could be sure who the enemy was, most of the time anyway. That can’t be said about my home life right now. One minute, Donna seems at peace with Teresa’s predicament.” He clicked his fingers. “Then the next, she’s breaking down in tears, devastated beyond words. I’ll never be able to figure you women out.”

“Ha! I doubt if you’re alone there, Jack. Most men don’t have a clue what goes on in a woman’s complex brain.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you on that, although I suspect it’s not the brain that worries most men. It’s the unbalanced hormones that have a tendency to strike fear into most men, me included, I have to admit.”

Sally laughed. “Shoo… I have work to do.”

After Jack left the office, she picked up the phone and dialled Simon’s number.

He answered after the second ring. “Ah, Inspector. You must be psychic I was just about to call you.”

“You were? With good news, I hope.”

“A mixture of news, shall we say? Right, first things first, I need to find the report of Maddie Webster.” Sally heard paperwork being shuffled before he spoke again, “Here it is. As suspected, the DNA results have confirmed that the bodily fluid on the victim indeed belonged to the same offender.”

“That’s excellent news. Why am I sensing there’s a but in there somewhere?”

“Ever the cautious one, while the evidence clearly links the two crimes, you’re aware, as I am, of the need for factual evidence to back up the DNA. As I recall from our last conversation, you had very little to go on. Is that still the case?”

“I’m afraid it is. Which is why I wanted you to examine Dorling’s room and vehicle as a priority. Any luck on that front?”

“The team have been at the guesthouse all night, much to the disgust of the landlady. Sadly, they didn’t really find much, only traces of Dorling’s DNA. No trophies from either victim or anything of that ilk.”

“Well, that doesn’t necessarily prove anything, does it? It only means that the victims were never in his room. What about his car?”

“We’ll be carrying out a thorough search of the vehicle over the course of the next few days. I’ve sent a member of my team out this morning to gather samples of the soil where the two victims’ bodies were found, to see if it matches anything we might find on Dorling’s tyres. One thing I will say about his room…”

Sally’s brow wrinkled as she frowned. “What’s that, Simon?”

He let out a large sigh. “I sent four guys to the address, and not one of them managed to find any evidence of blood on Dorling’s clothing, either clean or in his laundry, which was scattered around the floor. That fact alone struck me as odd. Do you agree?”

Sally nodded as if the pathologist were sitting in the room with her. “Yes, I agree, very strange. Maybe he disposed of the clothes before he went back to his room.”

“At this point, anything and everything could be possible. I just wanted to make you aware.”

“Maybe he dumped his clothes in the B&B’s wheelie bins. Did your guys check that?”

“I asked the same question. Unfortunately, the bins were emptied yesterday.”

Sally slapped the desk hard enough to make her palm sting. “Damn. Why isn’t anything in our jobs simple?”

Simon chortled. “A question I’ve asked myself a hundred times over the years, Inspector. So to recap, yes, the deaths of Brenda Fisher and Maddie Webster are connected. I’m still awaiting a few results back from the third victim, Alexina Graham. My instinct tells me that all three victims will give us the same DNA. The redeeming point is that the suspect is now locked away. We just need to come up with more evidence against him to make a conviction stick.”

“Yeah, that’s the tricky part. Of course, he’s denying ever knowing the first victim. I didn’t tackle him about Maddie Webster, as we didn’t have the results back. Maybe I’ll take a ride out to the remand centre and throw that at him today.” Sally tapped a pen against her chin.

“That’s up to you. My suggestion would be to postpone your meeting with the suspect until we have the results back from both the car and the latest victim. The more you can sling at him, the better, I’d say.”

“You’re right. Okay, I’ll wait to hear from you on that before I schedule a visit. I don’t need to tell you how important it is to get the results back quickly, do I?”

“No, you don’t, Inspector. Right, I have a double PM to perform, a murder-suicide case. I’ll be in touch shortly.”

She ended the call then rang her parents’ home.

“Hello, Mum. How are things?”

“Hello, dear. What, with the neighbours, do you mean?”

“Yes. Any improvement, or are swords still drawn as far as Dad is concerned?”

“You know your father as well as I do. Once he’s got his mind set on something, all sorts of stubbornness is stirred into the mix.”

“I know. Umm… I was wondering if I could drop by tonight? Maybe stop over even?”

“What? Why are you asking? Of course you can. You know there’s always a bed for you here, love. Is everything okay?”

Relief flooded through her. “Yes, Mum. I’ll tell you about it later. I just need somewhere to stay for a few days, that’s all. Give my love to Dad. I’ll be there around six thirty, unless something crops up here in the meantime.”

“How wonderful. I’ll cook your favourite for dinner. Roast chicken with all the trimmings.”

“Yummy, I’ll have a light lunch in that case. Thanks, Mum. Love you.”

“I love you, too, dear. See you later.”

For the rest of the day, Sally and her team followed procedures to try to place Dorling or his car at the crime scenes. Sally set the arduous task of searching through the CCTV footage to Joanna. But disappointingly, nothing of any relevance showed up on any of the cameras in the surrounding areas.

At six o’clock, Sally ordered the team to pack up and go home. After Sally had bid them all farewell, she was collecting her handbag and jacket when Jack appeared in her office doorway.

“Want me to come home with you? Check the coast is all clear?”

“That’s sweet of you, Jack. However, I’ve decided to stay at my parents’ for the next day or two. I rang Mum earlier.”

“You wouldn’t be telling me a fib now, would you?” he asked, one eye half-closed and tilting his head.

“No. It’s true. Thanks for your concern. You get off and tackle your mess at home and leave me to deal with mine, okay?”

“Grr… did you have to mention that? I might just have a sneaky one at the pub before I entrench myself in the battlefield. I can still walk you out to your car, though, right?”

“That’s a deal.”

They left the building together then went their separate ways at their vehicles. On the thirty-minute journey to her parents’ house, Sally prepared herself for the barrage of questions, along the lines of what her partner had subjected her to earlier in the day.

She pulled up in the drive and glanced across the street at the troublesome neighbours’ house. All was quiet, thank goodness. At least if a disturbance occurred during the evening, she would be on hand to deal with it.

Trepidation seeped into her veins as she placed her key in the front door and entered the house. Dex was the first to greet her. She knelt and made a fuss of her dog, who was pretty vocal and seemed pleased to see her. Tears of happiness welled up in her eyes. She hugged him, stood up, brushed down her suit, then walked into the kitchen, where she knew she would find her mother.

Not looking up from stirring the pot on the stove, Janine welcomed her daughter. “Hello, love. You’re just in time. I was about to dish up.”

“Smells beautiful, Mum.” Sally approached her mother and planted a light kiss on her cheek. “Can I do anything to help?”

“What the…” her father’s thunderous voice made them both turn in his direction.

“Don’t start, Dad, please?”

Her mother gasped and grabbed her arm. “How the heck did that happen? Did someone object to you arresting them?”

Damn! Why hadn’t she prepared a tale like that on the way over here?

Sally shied away from her father’s stare.

“What in God’s name?” Sally’s father pressed in spite of her plea.

She shook her head. “I’m okay, Dad.”

“There’s no fooling me, child. You should know that by now.”

Sally pulled away from her mother and sat down at the kitchen table. Her mother turned off the gas beneath the pot on the stove then pulled out the chair next to her. She clasped Sally’s hand in her own. “What is it, love? What aren’t you telling us?”

Sally’s gaze went over her mother’s head and locked with her father’s. His face had darkened, resembling a threatening storm cloud, but there was a glimmer of a kind smile lurking in his eyes. He knows!

He raised an eyebrow. “Your mother asked you a question, Sally. Kindly do her the courtesy of answering it.”

She knew when her father spoke in that off-tone of his there was no hiding place. Such places had been absent during her childhood, too.

Her mother turned sharply to look at her father. “Don’t speak to her like that, Chris. Show some compassion in your old age.”

Sally squeezed her mother’s hand. “It’s okay, Mum. Dad’s right. I shouldn’t keep this from you. I should have told you what he was like before.”

“You’re not making any sense, love.”

“Hush, Janine. Let her speak.”

Sally flinched at her father’s unexpected harsh words. “This didn’t occur during working hours, Mum. This happened last night at my flat.” Sally’s father sat down on the other side of her and grabbed her free hand. All of a sudden, a tsunami of emotions overwhelmed her. Her voice cracked when she continued, “It was Darryl.”

Her mother’s free hand clutched at her chest while her other squeezed Sally’s hard. “No. He wouldn’t.”

“Yes, he would,” her father stated. “This has been going on for years, hasn’t it, love?”

Sally couldn’t bear to look her father or her mother in the eyes.

“What? Is that right, Sally? Look at me, child.” Sally’s mother placed a finger under her chin and forced Sally to look at her.

“Yes, Mum. I’ve always hidden it from the pair of you. I didn’t want to shatter the illusion you had of him.”

“Ha! I had no illusions other than that he was a charmer who enjoyed cheating on you,” her father said.

“Why on Earth didn’t you tell me you had doubts about him, Chris? I always thought the pair of you got on well together.”

“I tolerated him for Sally’s sake. You know that old saying about keeping your enemy closer, well, that’s what I was doing with him. I was waiting for the day he physically hurt you in a place we could all see, and now that day has come, nothing would please me more than to teach that shitbag a lesson or two about how to treat women. Damn! Why didn’t you just come out and tell us this was going on, Sally? I’ve had to suppress the desire to thump him for years, but I couldn’t do it while you still loved him.”