fireworks that would erupt at some point within the next twenty-four hours.
Kate was going to court to ask for another twenty-four hours in which to question Regina and Milo.
Her heart was aching. The Carlton children were now under a care order and were to go to a foster family for the night. They were all distressed without their mother as Robert Bateman had predicted, trying to make her feel guilty and succeeding only too well.
But Kate pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She needed to know what exactly had gone on, and she needed to know fast.
Chapter Two
Patrick opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, feeling apprehension wash over him. Turning, he pulled a sleeping Kate into his arms. She nestled into his body and he looked down at her face. Kate was everything to him. He adored her. Just looking at her lying beside him gave him a feeling of immense peace.
She slipped one slender arm across his body and nestled against him, and he instinctively pulled her even closer. He glanced at his watch. Nearly six-thirty. In a few minutes Kate would stir. That was another thing he loved about her. Most of the women before Kate wouldn’t even contemplate getting out of bed before ten. They had been aimless, depending on men like him to keep them. Using their bodies as opposed to their brains to get what they wanted.
His respect for her was boundless, and he depended now on the respect she had for him in return. But how long would that last when she found out about yesterday’s fiasco? The cold feeling around his heart returned. Kate expected everyone to be like her. What you saw was exactly what you got. Upfront, straight and honest. That was his Kate.
The alarm went off, clamouring in the quiet of their bedroom. She opened her eyes while he turned it off, lay back against the pillows and smiled at him. Then, closing her eyes again, she stretched dreamily.
Patrick watched her, enjoying the morning ritual. Willy would bring in a tray of coffee in ten minutes. By then Kate would have showered and washed her hair.
He was amazed at how well they fitted together. Lifelong early risers, Kate and he both enjoyed this part of the day together. Reading the papers for ten minutes and chatting over the headlines was a great start for them both. He was even willing to have the Mail delivered so she could peruse the women’s pages, exclaiming over the facelift trials, the alternative medicines and sundry other crap he would know nothing about but for her.
Every bit of it was a joy to him now.
The phone rang on Kate’s side of the bed; it was her work line, especially put in for her use when she had come to live with him three years ago. For the first time ever he was glad to hear its shrill ringing this early.
Kate answered it, stifling a yawn. ‘Burrows here.’
He watched the changing expressions on her face and saw how her eyes dilated at what was obviously distressing news. She replaced the receiver and leaped from the bed.
‘What’s up, Kate?’
‘One of my suspects tried to commit suicide this morning. Bit clean through her own wrist. I’ll have Dave Golding’s balls for this. I told him to have her watched. I must get along to the hospital, see what I can salvage.’ She disappeared into the shower.
Patrick toyed with the idea of jumping in with her, felt the usual stirring in his groin. Then Willy knocked on the door, and the coffee and papers were there, and Kate was dressing quickly. Kissing him and leaving.
As she walked to the door she half turned. ‘You OK, Pat?’
He nodded. ‘ ’Course I am. You?’
She grinned. ‘Never better. Speak to you later.’
Then she was gone, leaving him feeling bereft. He loved her so much, so very very much. But he knew that he was living on borrowed time.
Regina had been given six stitches in her wrist. Kate gazed down at her and wondered at a life that could at once be so complicated and yet so ineffectual. In repose, Regina’s face showed a
Kate was going to court to ask for another twenty-four hours in which to question Regina and Milo.
Her heart was aching. The Carlton children were now under a care order and were to go to a foster family for the night. They were all distressed without their mother as Robert Bateman had predicted, trying to make her feel guilty and succeeding only too well.
But Kate pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She needed to know what exactly had gone on, and she needed to know fast.
Chapter Two
Patrick opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, feeling apprehension wash over him. Turning, he pulled a sleeping Kate into his arms. She nestled into his body and he looked down at her face. Kate was everything to him. He adored her. Just looking at her lying beside him gave him a feeling of immense peace.
She slipped one slender arm across his body and nestled against him, and he instinctively pulled her even closer. He glanced at his watch. Nearly six-thirty. In a few minutes Kate would stir. That was another thing he loved about her. Most of the women before Kate wouldn’t even contemplate getting out of bed before ten. They had been aimless, depending on men like him to keep them. Using their bodies as opposed to their brains to get what they wanted.
His respect for her was boundless, and he depended now on the respect she had for him in return. But how long would that last when she found out about yesterday’s fiasco? The cold feeling around his heart returned. Kate expected everyone to be like her. What you saw was exactly what you got. Upfront, straight and honest. That was his Kate.
The alarm went off, clamouring in the quiet of their bedroom. She opened her eyes while he turned it off, lay back against the pillows and smiled at him. Then, closing her eyes again, she stretched dreamily.
Patrick watched her, enjoying the morning ritual. Willy would bring in a tray of coffee in ten minutes. By then Kate would have showered and washed her hair.
He was amazed at how well they fitted together. Lifelong early risers, Kate and he both enjoyed this part of the day together. Reading the papers for ten minutes and chatting over the headlines was a great start for them both. He was even willing to have the Mail delivered so she could peruse the women’s pages, exclaiming over the facelift trials, the alternative medicines and sundry other crap he would know nothing about but for her.
Every bit of it was a joy to him now.
The phone rang on Kate’s side of the bed; it was her work line, especially put in for her use when she had come to live with him three years ago. For the first time ever he was glad to hear its shrill ringing this early.
Kate answered it, stifling a yawn. ‘Burrows here.’
He watched the changing expressions on her face and saw how her eyes dilated at what was obviously distressing news. She replaced the receiver and leaped from the bed.
‘What’s up, Kate?’
‘One of my suspects tried to commit suicide this morning. Bit clean through her own wrist. I’ll have Dave Golding’s balls for this. I told him to have her watched. I must get along to the hospital, see what I can salvage.’ She disappeared into the shower.
Patrick toyed with the idea of jumping in with her, felt the usual stirring in his groin. Then Willy knocked on the door, and the coffee and papers were there, and Kate was dressing quickly. Kissing him and leaving.
As she walked to the door she half turned. ‘You OK, Pat?’
He nodded. ‘ ’Course I am. You?’
She grinned. ‘Never better. Speak to you later.’
Then she was gone, leaving him feeling bereft. He loved her so much, so very very much. But he knew that he was living on borrowed time.
Regina had been given six stitches in her wrist. Kate gazed down at her and wondered at a life that could at once be so complicated and yet so ineffectual. In repose, Regina’s face showed a
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