Blood and Treachery (DCI Logan Crime Thrillers Book 4) by JD Kirk

Author:JD Kirk [Kirk, JD]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Zertex Crime
Published: 2019-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tyler was scrolling through a third page of search results when something icy cold was pressed against the back of his neck. He twisted in his chair, ejecting a surprisingly high-pitched, “Fuck off!” and throwing an arm out for protection.

He had expected to find Hamza standing behind him, probably pissing himself laughing. The sight that did meet him was far better.

Tyler jumped up, the cold spot on the back of his neck instantly forgotten.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” said a young woman, holding a can of Irn Bru in one hand. From the way she said it, and the smirk on her face, she very clearly wasn’t sorry in the slightest, but Tyler wasn’t going to hold that against her.

“Sinead. What are you doing here?” he asked. He hesitated for a moment, overthinking it, then stepped in closer and gave her a slightly awkward hug.

She pressed the can against the back of his shirt, freezing him through the thin material.

“Argh! Quit that!” he said, although with far less venom in his voice this time.

“Sorry,” Sinead said again, arguably even less truthfully than before. “Couldn’t resist again.”

She pointed to an empty chair at the next desk over. “Anyone sitting there?”

Tyler regarded the seat. “Aye. The Invisible Man. We use him for undercover work.”

“His banter’s still shite, you’ll notice,” remarked Hamza. He was on the phone at his own desk, one hand over the mouthpiece. “Hello, by the way.”

Sinead smiled back at the DC as she wheeled the empty chair over to Tyler’s desk. “Hi.”

Hamza took his hand off the mouthpiece, but didn’t speak. From the way he bobbed his head and tapped a finger on his notepad, Sinead assumed he was listening to some catchier-than-usual hold music.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked Tyler as she sat down beside him.

“The boss is doing an interview. The others are…”

He regarded the Incident Room.

“Not here. Dunno where they’ve gone, actually,” he admitted, gesturing to his computer screen. “I’ve been tied up with this. Trying to find someone who called in a missing climber report.”

“No joy?”

Tyler shrugged. “Not really, no. He gives his name as Robert Smith, so searching mostly just brings up the guy from The Cure. You know? ‘Friday, I’m in—’”

He stopped himself from finishing the song title, smiled uncomfortably, then drew Sinead’s attention to the screen again. “He’s the most famous one, obviously, but there are loads of them. I’ve found at least four living here in town. I’ve managed to speak to three of them, but can’t find a phone number for the fourth.”

He gave his head a shake, then turned away from the computer. “Anyway. What are you doing here? You’re meant to be at home resting.”

“Yeah, but the thing is, it’s really boring,” Sinead said. “I’ve got nothing against ‘Loose Women,’ but there’s only so many times you can watch it before you want to kill yourself.”

She considered this point. “OK, maybe I do have something against ‘Loose Women,’” she decided. “So, yeah. I got bored, and Harris is away on his school trip for the next couple of days, so I thought I’d come down and say hello.

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