One For the Ages: A Scottish Crime Thriller (DCI Logan Crime Thrillers Book 16) by JD Kirk

Author:JD Kirk [Kirk, JD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zertex Crime
Published: 2023-02-27T16:00:00+00:00

Sinead’s eyes were dry. She rubbed them, massaging them with her thumb and the knuckle of a forefinger until colours swam across the walls of the darkened Incident Room.

She’d drawn the blinds to shut out the night, and the only light in the room came from her computer screen.

How long had she been staring at that screen now? How many hours had she been sitting there in front of the computer, clicking, and scrolling, and searching?

Too bloody many, if the state of her eyes were anything to go by.

It wasn’t just today, either. Her bump had left her tied to her desk since Christmas. She hadn’t even been able to join in with all the excitement at the Eastgate Centre.

The biggest thing to happen in the Highlands in years—a full-scale hostage situation right in the centre of the city—and she’d been stuck here manning the phones.

It was important work, Logan had assured her. She might be wedged into a chair all day long, but what she was doing was vital to the smooth running of the whole blah, blah, blah.

She’d tuned him out at that point, having had quite her fill of being patronised on that particular day.

She wanted to be out there, right in the thick of it, making a difference, like a proper detective. Not sitting here. Like a balloon.

Shona had been and gone, and had taken Taggart home with her, robbing Sinead of even that responsibility.

The pathologist had offered her a lift home, even suggested they go grab a bite to eat on the way, but Sinead had politely declined. She was too busy, she’d said. She had too much to be getting on with.

And that was partly true. That was part of the reason for her hanging on here as long as she possibly could.

But it wasn’t the real reason. Not by a long shot.

“Please tell me my eyes are deceiving me and you’re not still here, Detective Constable.”

Sinead shimmied her chair around, and tried to look upbeat and full of energy, yet suitably contrite. The results were mixed, at best.

Mitchell leaned in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame. It was the first time Sinead recalled seeing the detective superintendent leaning. It was so out of character, in fact, that Sinead had to peer through the darkness to make sure it was really her.

“Sorry, ma’am,” she said, when she was sure she had the right person. “I’m just waiting for Tyler to pick me up.”

Mitchell stepped further into the room. She was still wearing her uniform, but she’d shed her tie, and opened the top button of her shirt. This was, for the usually immaculate detective superintendent, practically slovenly.

“Tyler? Isn’t he…?”

“DCI Logan sent him home for the night,” Sinead explained. “He should be here any minute.”

“Ah. Good.”

Mitchell picked up the same stapler she’d fiddled with earlier, and turned it over in almost exactly the same way.

“You’re back earlier than expected, ma’am,” Sinead remarked.

“Yes.” Mitchell looked up from the stapler, smiled thinly, then went back to studying it like it was some fascinating historical artefact.

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