Page 94 of Slack Tide Kill

"I think I was very clear," Mayhew seethed. "You are currently under investigation! You are not supposed to be–"

"It mirrors the land," Sally interrupted. "I get it now. The boys missing their eyes, looking right at the lighthouse? That's a perfect pair. Nancy Cagen at the Sound Mirrors, surrounded by their listening ears? That's the pattern."

"What on earth are you raving about?" Mayhew said, leading Sally back to the training suite. "The bodies of the boys were in front of the reactors, not the lighthouse."

"But they were looking at it!" Sally stopped cold by the door. "Straight through the reactor, a direct line to the lighthouse." Everyone in the bullpen was watching now. "These murders, they're about witnesses, people who saw or heard something they shouldn't have. And they're about the land! About belonging."

Mayhew's face was ashen. "So help me, you will get in that room now, Officer Rogers, or you will check yourself into hospital. Do anything else, and I will arrest you myself for interfering with an active investigation. Is that understood?"

Sally felt herself slipping. "DCI, it doesn't matter if you think I'm crazy. This is the pattern, and we can use it."

"Use it how?" Mayhew pushed the door open. "Now get in there!"

Sally looked at her. She hadn't listened. Maybe she wasn't capable of it. Too angry to hear, too angry to see. Another bad witness. But the bullpen had heard. Gemmell had heard. It was out there, and what else could Sally do right now?

She let herself be pushed inside. Mayhew slammed the door behind her.

38 ALWAYS HAPPY HOUR SOMEWHERE

Liam O'Connell rode to Rye in the back of a squad car. He'd given his preliminary debrief to DI Gemmell, covering for his partner as best he could, but still those few moments in the Mustang kept replaying in his head.

They'd come so close.

He'd told her to stop. He'd told her to pull away. She hadn't asked for permission. She'd neglected their safety with a civilian sitting in the front seat.

She'd just done it.

It dug into him, needling into his stomach and making him sick. He looked at his hands as the marsh passed by on either side. They were trembling and dark with dried mud. He needed a shower, a change of clothes, but he wasn't sure if that was enough to feel clean.

"She's a wild one, your partner," the officer driving said. Simms.

Liam said nothing, just looked out the window. It had been like this on Dark Peak. At every turn, she'd pushed harder, dragging him with her, and it had ended with her buried alive.

He'd held her close. Her freezing skin. Terrified she was going to die in his arms. Now she was doing it all over again.

The squad car pulled in. Liam got out wordlessly.

"The DCI wants you in the back, mate," Sergeant Simms said. "This way. No crossover with your partner."

His partner.

He let himself be guided. Simms badged them in, down a dim corridor into a solitary room without a window.

"It's a shit gig," Simms said, gesturing him in. "I know that. But we're using everywhere else. You're hungry?"

Liam felt thirsty. His whole body shook with the urge to drink. "Yeah."

"We'll sort something. Sit tight, join the queue for full debriefs, and job's a good 'un." Simms peered at him. "You don't look well to me, though. I'll send someone to check in on you."

"I'm fine," Liam rasped.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that. Some coffee, sandwiches and a psych eval, coming right up."

He closed the door.

Liam sat and buried his head in his hands. The urge was deep, digging into him. Somehow, he'd known this was going to happen. Not just since this morning, but ever since the call yesterday morning. Sally's voice, full of life again, the start of a new hunt.

It was like she'd been set alight, burning with the same urge that had sent her up Dark Peak alone. A fire that had almost gotten them all killed on the marsh. The closer he got to it, the more it burned him down.