The case was still running around Kim’s head when she pulled up outside Ted’s house at ten past ten.

Truthfully, she would have preferred to make a strong pot of coffee and spend the night in her garage building the bike. But today was Thursday and, regardless of murder, Friday was still the end of the week, and Woody had made his timescale clear.

‘Come on, boy,’ Kim said, opening the car door.

She’d taken him for a walk once she’d got home but after a long day she didn’t want to be separated from him again. She suspected he cared less about that than she did.

‘Aah, two for the price of one,’ Ted observed. He petted Barney on the head and stood aside.

‘Sorry to come so late,’ Kim apologised, following Barney, who was eagerly sniffing Ted’s front room.

‘Not the first time, is it, Kim?’ Ted observed.

She smiled at the memory: She’d been thirteen years old and suffering. Foster family four, Keith and Erica had recently been killed in a car accident, following the happiest three years of her life. She’d been returned to the care system like a stray cat, where people had prodded and poked her to open up and talk about her grief, her loss. Everywhere she went: school, Fairview, all talking at her, trying to crack her open like a coconut.

One night she had ducked out of Fairview and caught the bus to Ted’s house. It was the only place she’d felt she could get some peace.

‘You asked if you could come in and just sit a while,’ Ted said, sharing her memory.

She recalled it well. Ted had asked if he could help. She’d shaken her head and gone outside to the wooden companion seating set. Ted hadn’t joined her. Instead, he had called Fairview to tell them she was fine and that he would ensure she got back safely.

‘You know, I still wonder what it was that you were thinking about that night,’ he said, filling the cups.

She’d never told him and she never would.

Only she knew that she’d sat in the safety of Ted’s garden allowing the memories of Erica and Keith into her brain. Keith showing her how a spark plug worked as they sat on the garage floor amongst a collection of motorcycle parts. Erica making a delicious evening meal while humming tunelessly in the kitchen. Inevitably thoughts of Mikey had tagged along too; the feeling of his warm body against her before he lost his grip on life. And the pain had been unbearable. Somewhere inside herself she had felt something breaking, dying. She had fought for breath as the agony had engulfed her body and she had known that she couldn’t live through it, that she couldn’t return to Fairview or school and function or even survive.

Any thought of family had the power to weaken her, destroy her ability to focus towards adulthood and freedom.

She had wondered how she could get through the next five minutes, let alone five years.

And then she’d watched the fish. How they swam and swam and swam over the same area, time and time again, the monotony of being on repeat. She recalled having read they had a five-second memory, so each swim was probably a new experience for them every time.

How great to have no memory, to not keep looking back. Only forward to the other end of the pond.

Suddenly it seemed so simple. Just don’t think about the things that held the potential to do her harm, to weaken her. Put the memories away. Picture them being placed into a box, sealed away; safe. Keep busy, keep focussed and ignore it.

She had repeated these words over and over as the fish swam and Ted watched her from the doorway.

Eventually her breathing had regulated, the panic had subsided and the pain had begun to fade.

‘You pushed past me to leave and I asked if you were okay. You told me you were “sorted”,’ he said.

‘And I was,’ she replied, following him through to the lounge.

‘Hmm… not so sure about that,’ he said. ‘But we’ll leave that for now. Have you given any thought to the things that were making you so angry the other day?’

Kim shook he head. ‘No, I’ve been a bit busy, and to be fair, there are brand new things that piss me off every day.’

‘Yes, quite, but I think some of those things are important to explore.’

Kim felt a dread beginning to form in her stomach. Perhaps she would have been better seeing a force shrink after all.

‘I went in hard on a guy today,’ she admitted. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to share that with Ted but the words had just come out.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘I roughed him up verbally, questioned him aggressively. Lost control a bit.’

‘Tell me about him,’ Ted said. ‘The guy you were hard on.’

She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t really matter. Could have been anyone.’

‘But it wasn’t. I’m sure you’ve interviewed many people this week. So, tell me about him. Just three things to describe him. The first three that come to mind.’

She pictured Giovanni Mancini.

‘Young, handsome, cocky.’

‘Int—’

‘Ted,’ she snapped.

‘He’s not Dawson,’ Ted said.

‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous,’ she bit. ‘I know he’s not Dawson. He’s a suspect who may be responsible for two or more deaths. That’s why I went in hard,’ she said, feeling the heat flush her face.

‘On some level, he reminds you of Dawson. Those are three words you would have used to describe him. You’re angry with him because he died.’

‘You know,’ Kim said, tipping her head, ‘you could get a job on one of those cheap help phones with insights like that.’

He met her gaze. ‘Ooh, there’s a raw nerve. Always has a direct line to your defences, which blazes a trail to your vicious tongue.’

She opened her mouth to argue, but they both knew he was right.

‘Have you cried?’ he asked.

She considered lying but then shook her head.

‘Interesting,’ he said, pursing his lips.

‘Ted, you’re sounding like a therapist,’ she warned as Barney turned twice before lying at her feet.

‘So, how are you feeling about elevating your colleague and giving her more?…’

‘She’s working her own case right now,’ Kim declared, defensively.

‘Freely?’ he asked.

‘Of course not,’ she snapped. ‘She’s a constable. It’s my job—’

‘What kind of case is she working?’ he asked.

‘Missing girl, probably a runaway.’

‘Dangerous?’

She shook her head. ‘Unlikely.’

‘And the new guy, Penn. You like him any better than you did the other day?’

‘He’s a good officer,’ she said.

‘Great answer for someone’s question but not mine. I asked if—’

‘I heard your question,’ she snapped. ‘And the answer is no.’

‘Why not? Is he aggressive, lazy, arrogant, useless, ignorant, rude?’ Ted pushed.

‘Jesus, Ted. Are you forgetting how many people have tried to get into my head? I just don’t like him. It’s that simple.’

‘But you did before,’ Ted said, unruffled. ‘When he was someone else’s charge.’

‘You make it sound like he was Travis’s kid?’ Kim acknowledged.

‘Interesting that you would say that,’ Ted said.

Kim groaned and allowed her head to roll back against the sofa. Her sudden memory of jokingly calling Stacey and Dawson ‘the kids’ was pushed firmly to the side.

‘But that’s what it’s like, isn’t it? Like being given a child you didn’t want. Imagine taking Barney to the dog park and somehow he gets out. And then someone gives you another dog, any old dog. It wouldn’t be the same. But you came with one dog and left with one dog so what’s the difference, right?’

Just the thought of it prompted her to lean down and rub Barney’s head.

He paused and regarded her for a few seconds.

‘Over the years I’ve grown used to your obstinate silence. Our sessions normally consisted of you not answering my questions, but I’d like you to answer just one.’

She said nothing. She would never commit without knowing the question.

‘How many times have you wished it had been you that had gone up that bell tower instead of Kevin Dawson?’

She gave it serious consideration. Ted rarely asked for anything, but for some reason, he was asking for this.

‘A few times,’ she answered, honestly.

He nodded.

‘You dare say interesting one more time…’ she warned.

He shook his head. ‘I wasn’t going to,’ he said. ‘I was just thinking about your reaction to Stacey becoming more independent. You realise that if a parent loses a child they become more protective of the child they’ve got left.’

‘Oh, Ted, you’re—’

‘Hear me out, Kim,’ he said, holding up a hand to her protests. ‘You’ve admitted that you’ve wished you’d gone up there instead of him, that you’d died instead of him. That’s normally a selfless act reserved for those closest to us. Normally our nearest and dearest relatives.’

She shook her head.

‘You really don’t see it, do you?’ he asked, shaking his head.

She shrugged. ‘See what?’

‘You were not only building a team, you were building a family.’

She opened her mouth to argue but her opinion wasn’t important. Only his was going to Woody.

‘I disagree, but even if you’re right, did I pass and do I get to keep my job?’ she asked, verbalising the only question that mattered.

‘Well, Kim, that is between me and your boss.’