Lucy reached the open-plan CID office and did a double-take to see the outline of a man through the partially closed blinds, sitting behind her desk. She wondered who the hell was brazen enough to use her office – her team knew to keep out of it as she was very particular about her own space. She strode across the room and threw the door open, her heart skipping a beat when she realised who it was sitting there.

‘Long time no see. How are you, Lucy?’

It was a very long time since she had last seen him, but Patrick Baker didn’t look a day older. If anything, he looked better; his sideburns were gone. His face showed a few more laughter lines, but it had the sun-kissed look of a man who liked to spend all his free time outdoors.

‘Well, I was fine until I saw you sitting behind my desk. What are you doing here?’

‘I’ve been drafted in to give you a hand. Tom is worried that you might have too much on. Isn’t he kind?’

She shook her head. ‘He is, but I don’t need one, thank you.’

He stood up and walked around so he was facing her.

‘I couldn’t exactly say no and, besides, I’ve been waiting months for a transfer here. You have two murder investigations on the go. I know that you’re nothing short of amazing, Lucy, but you’re not Wonder Woman. You can’t do this on your own. It will ease some of the pressure off your shoulders. Aren’t you lucky that I was available at short notice to step in?’

Lucy didn’t know whether it was good or bad luck – they’d had their differences in the past.

‘How are George and Ellie?’

She could tell him to mind his own business, but someone else would only too gladly fill him in on the backstory of her car-crash life.

‘George lives with his much younger, very pregnant girlfriend and Ellie is your typical teenager.’

Patrick actually looked shocked. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I honestly thought that you and George were the real deal.’

A huge smile had broken out across his face and Lucy thought that she might just add to the week’s murder count by smashing him over the head with the heavy glass paperweight on the edge of her desk.

She walked off to find Tom, who was nowhere to be seen, and wondered if he’d glimpsed the pair of them in her office and gone to hide somewhere. She hovered around outside the gents and heard the hand-drier go off. She hoped it was him; otherwise she was going to look like some crazed stalker. The door opened. Tom took one look at Lucy’s face and said, ‘Should we go to my office?’

She nodded and followed him. He pointed at a chair and she sat down.

‘What’s the problem, Lucy?’

‘I think you already know, sir.’

‘Look, you need a hand. It’s not fair to expect you to have everything on your caseload. I thought you’d be relieved to have some help.’

In reality she was – as Patrick had said, it would be a huge weight lifted off her shoulders if he took on one of the murder cases. It was just the fact that it was Patrick that irked her.

‘I am. It’s just nice to be informed about these things.’

Tom nodded. ‘I know. I’m sorry, but what time did you get home last night?’

‘Nine thirty.’

‘And you started work at eight. I know you hate it when we get all concerned about you, but someone has to look after your welfare.’

She felt her cheeks begin to burn; she didn’t want looking after. Realising he was only trying to help, she smiled.

‘Thank you, I appreciate it.’

‘Good. Now, which case do you want Patrick to oversee? It’s your choice.’

She thought about it. She wanted to find Melanie Benson’s killer. She also wanted to find whoever had buried the body in the woods, but that was going to take quite some time. They were looking at another day before they even got the skeleton back to the mortuary and then the site would take days to process. If she focused on Melanie’s killer and caught him then she could take over the other case.

‘I’ll take the Benson case; you can give Baker the corpse in the woods.’ She stood up. ‘Oh, and one last request: I’m not sharing my office with him.’

Tom nodded. ‘No, I didn’t think that you would. It’s already been taken care of.’

She walked out feeling marginally better than she had ten minutes ago. Patrick had already removed himself from her office, which saved her the job of throwing him out. He was now sitting on the corner of Browning’s desk, chatting to him as if they were long-lost friends. Good. Browning was welcome to him. Patrick had been a lazy bastard when they’d been back on section – she couldn’t see how he’d have changed much.