Lucy went back to her office. Just as she closed the door her phone began to ring and she answered it, pleased to hear her teenage daughter’s voice.

‘Can I come around tonight?’

‘Of course you can, Ellie, you don’t need to ask.’

‘Just checking that you didn’t have a hot date or anything.’

Lucy giggled. ‘I most definitely don’t. I might not finish until late, though; there’s been a serious incident. But I’ll see you later.’

‘Okay. Bye.’

The phone went dead and Lucy released the breath she’d been holding. Since she’d come out of hospital Ellie had been on her best behaviour. She’d been worried that Ellie would explode about her working late and she hadn’t. It was nice to spend time with her daughter without wanting to kill her. They’d been through a rough couple of years and it was good to see the girl Ellie had once been slowly re-emerging through her teenage angst. With all the pizzas and Chinese takeaways they’d been eating, Lucy was glad that she no longer had to wear her uniform because she didn’t think it would fit her any more. Even her suit trousers had been a bit on the snug side this morning, so that was it: no more takeaways. At least until she could breathe out without fear of her button popping off. Her phone beeped signalling a text message and she saw Doctor Stephen King’s name flash up. He was supposed to take her out for a meal last night, but had phoned to cancel. There had been an emergency at the hospital and he couldn’t leave. She had understood because she knew from her own experience what it was like. Her job was the same, most of the time you floated along nicely until a major incident happened. Then it was all hands-on deck. George and Ellie had been the casualties of her workaholic life. Now that her relationship with Ellie was back on track she would do her best not to jeopardise it. She read the message and sighed.

Sorry about last night, I’ll pick you up at 7.30 and we can go for supper.

Lucy felt her heart sink, instead of wasting time texting back she dialled his number.

‘Good afternoon, beautiful.’

She felt the warm rush of blood as her cheeks began to glow.

‘Hello back, I’m sorry, I can’t make it tonight. I promised Ellie she could come around.’

There was a slight pause and she immediately detected the hint of annoyance in his voice when he spoke, her fingers curled into a tight ball.

‘Then why don’t I pick both of you up?’

‘No, it’s fine. Thank you, she isn’t the most sociable teenager in Brooklyn Bay. I’m too busy anyway, there’s been a murder.’

She heard his intake of breath.

‘It’s shocking, the number of murders in this town. Do you have to be involved?’

‘It’s my job, Stephen, so yes. Technically I do have to be involved.’ Lucy could feel a wave of anger building inside her chest. Yes, he was nice to look at, had good prospects and seemed like a decent enough bloke. But there was something about his attitude which was getting on her last nerve. He changed the subject and Lucy wondered if he was a little bit psychic or whether he was just good at reading women.

‘So why can’t we do something later? Is it because Ellie is jealous and doesn’t want you to have your own life?’

‘It has nothing to do with what Ellie thinks, I want to spend some time with my daughter. If you asked her what she’d rather do I’m pretty sure it would be to hang around with her friends.’

‘She’s old enough to share you. Maybe you should put your foot down, tell her you want to live your own life.’

Lucy felt a vein in her head begin to throb as the blood pulsated around her body.

‘You know what, Stephen? I like you. I liked the idea of us, but this is the thing. I decide what I want to do and when I want to do it. My family will always come first to anyone that I might date. This has been nice and I’d like it if we could stay friends, but it’s over.’

‘But why? I thought that we were good together? Why would you want to call it a day over something so trivial?’

She hissed. ‘Because none of this is trivial, it’s major and I haven’t got the time or the energy to juggle my family, work and a relationship.’

Lucy ended the call, a wave of relief washing over her. It was true, she wasn’t ready for a relationship.

There was a knock on the door. ‘Come in.’

Mattie walked in, carrying two mugs of coffee. He passed her one, then sat down in the chair opposite her.

‘That was a bit of an early morning eye-opener. I was just getting used to having some run-of-the-mill, non-suspicious deaths.’

Lucy smiled. ‘You can say that again. I really thought things were going a little too smoothly. It was nice while it lasted.’

‘You’re losing your touch, Ma’am. So what do you want me to do?’

Lucy hadn’t realised she hadn’t given him any direct tasks to complete. ‘Well, if you call me Ma’am again I’ll have you on the house-to-house enquiries.’

He lifted two fingers to his temple, making a gun and pretending to fire. ‘I promise I won’t ever call you that again.’

‘Good – you can come with me back to the crime scene. I need to know if they’ve found her shoes. Where could they be?’

‘Slung in the bushes, in the car of whoever took her – I don’t know.’

She picked up the mug, blowing on the steaming hot liquid before she took a sip.

‘She was killed there on the gravel and dragged onto the wet grass. I don’t think we’ll find them. I would bet that he’s taken them with him.’

‘They could be anywhere; those fields are huge. He might have thrown them over someone’s wall – hell, he could have put them in one of those clothes-bank bins at Tesco for all we know.’

‘Or he could have taken them away with him.’

‘Because he has a shoe fetish?’

‘Possibly: stranger things have been known. Or because he wanted to take a trophy away with him, a keepsake of his kill – and if he has, then you know what that means.’

Mattie was shaking his head. ‘Fuck no.’

‘Well, I’d say it was highly likely. It’s a fuck yes. This isn’t some domestic gone wrong. Especially in last night’s weather, there’s no way it’s even likely they would have used the Fields as a cut-through. It’s nowhere near her address, for a start. What would they be doing there, in the middle of nowhere? I think this is a stranger-killing.’

‘What does what mean?’ Both of them looked up to see Tom standing in the open doorway.

‘Sir, I was just telling Mattie that everything points to this being a stranger-killing. If the perpetrator has taken the victim’s shoes away as a trophy then we have a huge problem.’ Lucy’s phone began to ring and she looked to see who was calling. Stephen’s picture was flashing across the home screen. She silenced the call and pushed it back into her pocket. She didn’t have time to talk to him now; she’d ring him back later.

Tom stepped inside, closing the door behind him. ‘Seriously, you think this is a real possibility already? If he’s taking keepsakes with him then that means he’s not likely to stop any time soon – he’s got a collection that he’ll want to keep on growing.’

‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’