Page 114 of D for Dead

Pruitt, probably due to the differing styles of death.

Although Sullivan was watching Amy, he was still working the case from her apartment and liaising with them over any developments. The Melford police had been unable to locate Tucker Johnson; the man seemed to have vanished into thin air. And they had yet to speak with Leslie and Crystal Rooney, though they had managed to talk with the twins’ parents.

Deanna and Pete Rooney were shocked at the developments and unwilling at first to believe either of their daughters had been involved. They clearly remembered the night of Amy’s car accident, had assumed she had been sleepwalking when it happened. They hadn’t seen her after she’d been released from hospital. Amy’s parents had held them responsible for what had happened and severed ties. Hopefully their daughters would be able to provide more information.

Leslie Rooney worked as a teaching aide and was away on a school skiing trip in Colorado. She was due back at the weekend, while Crystal lived a few miles out of town but hadn’t returned their calls. A drive out to the house where she lived alone following her divorce suggested she was also away, but no one was sure where.

Danielle Colton’s stepfather still lived locally; her mother having passed away a few years back. He had been of little help: a daytime drinker with vague memories of the night in question and still firmly of the belief Danielle had run away and the police were wasting his time. It was unlikely they would get anything useful from him.

Angell had taken over the search for Gavin from Rivers and spent much of the afternoon trailing round hotels showing Amy’s ex-boyfriend’s picture, but to no avail. She met Joel back at headquarters early evening, looking despondent and frustrated. He understood how she was feeling.

When were they going to catch a break?

She was in the middle of updating him when her cell phone starting buzzing in her pocket. Pulling it out, she glanced, annoyed, at the screen and killed the call.

‘Where was I?’ she asked, slipping the phone back into her pocket, gathering her train of thought.

‘Who was that?’

‘No one.’ She still looked irritated. ‘So I’ve covered all of the hotels and motels on the east side of–’

Her phone buzzed again; she pulled it roughly from her pocket, put it to her ear.

‘What do you want, Alan? I’m kind of busy here.’

Joel stifled the smirk. She had no idea quite how exasperated she looked or sounded. Alan wasn’t right for her. She just couldn’t see it. He listened in on her side of the conversation, able to make out that she was supposed to have done something for her boyfriend and had forgotten. Rather than apologise, she tried to turn the situation around.

‘Okay, okay. I will drop everything and head home now. Your samples are clearly more important than a murdered police officer.’ Another long pause. She had twisted the argument, making Alan the bad guy. ‘I’m on my way.’

Without saying goodbye, Angell killed the call and threw a furious glance at Hickok, as she realised he had heard everything.

‘What the hell are you smirking at?’

‘Trouble in paradise?’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Okay.’ He broke out into a broad grin at the flustered look on her face. ‘Whenever you’re ready.’

She shook her head, looking annoyed at herself for biting. ‘I need to get home. He’s got a delivery arriving I need to be there to collect.’

‘At this time of night?’

‘It’s a friend of his dropping off some samples he needs.’ Angell shrugged. ‘I guess they might have called by earlier, but I wasn’t there so they’re coming back. Hell knows why it’s so important I have to be there.’

‘Why’s he out of town again? How many of these plastic spoon conventions do they have a month? If I were you I’d start questioning if maybe Alan is fooling around on you.’

‘He’s not fooling around. Don’t be stupid.’

‘Why wouldn’t he be? He never seems to be at home. You not considered it?’

He could see from the look on her face that she hadn’t but now was.

‘Can you give me a ride?’ she asked, ignoring the question.

Joel’s grin widened further.

‘A ride home, Hickok. A ride home,’ she snapped, cheeks reddening at his deliberate misinterpretation of her question.