Love Lies Bleeding (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series Book 8) by Rebecca Bradley

Author:Rebecca Bradley [Bradley, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-01T22:00:00+00:00

30

Millie Ward’s home in Crumpsall, Manchester was a hive of activity when we arrived. The crime scene unit were out in full force, with uniformed officers keeping the scene secure, and detectives speaking to anyone who was out and rubbernecking this early in the morning.

The teams wouldn’t knock on any doors until a slightly more reasonable hour, but they would knock early enough to catch people before they headed out to work. Even if that meant facing the wrath of those who didn’t need to be up and about at that hour.

The temperature was cold and I wrapped my coat tighter around myself.

It didn’t take us long to find Detective Inspector Lance Adisa. He was a tall, heavy-set man with a serious expression standing in front of the house, talking with a bunch of CSIs.

I introduced myself and Aaron and we shook hands. Adisa’s grip was strong and warm.

He updated us on what was happening. ‘Millie Ward is still in situ. I’ve checked with the CSI manager and she’s happy for you to go in to compare the scene to the one you had in Derbyshire. You’ll find some suits in the CSU van over there.’

I looked at the parked vans.

‘Soon as you’re ready, we’ll head straight in.’

I thanked him and advised that we had our own gear in the boot of the car.

Aaron and I kitted up and were immediately ushered into the house. Like all crime scenes there was an army of white ants processing it. An air of competent quiet as they went about their work.

Adisa showed us into the kitchen which, like the living room, was sparse. Not much littered the sides. Just the bare essentials. Everything was clean and polished.

On the floor Millie was a crumpled heap. She’d been fighting for her life. Blade marks scored the skin down her arms and hands. The chairs around the dining table were toppled, one landing over her. She was on her side, the beautiful dark hair that had framed her face yesterday fanned out around her. What I could see of her face was even more pale than when we’d seen her as the blood that had been pumping life into her skin there was no longer flowing.

Blood was spattered across the room in great sweeping crescents. These arrangements would do a lot to inform the CSIs. They would tell the story of what happened in here. Of which blow came before another. Of the horror of the night.

And below her pooled what blood was left, seeping out as she lay dying in her own home.

Her right arm was stretched out in front of her. Her hand was so visibly broken I had to turn away. Stretched out my own hand. Reminded myself it was healed and well. Felt my fingers as they moved. Unlike Millie, I’d survived what I’d been through. This broken hand was in the past.

The image in front of me did not match up to the young woman I met only hours earlier. A woman in love.

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