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‘Oh yeah,’ Stacey said, looking miserable.
In truth, Alison was still trying to process what Stacey had told her. She remembered their conversation well. She also remembered sending Stacey links to articles about women who had been killed by their stalkers, which she could absolutely kick herself in the head for now. Stacey must have been terrified.
A small part of her identified with how the inspector was feeling, even though she understood that many stalking victims kept it to themselves for years. Sometimes they felt they were exaggerating and blowing things out of proportion.
When nothing physical had happened, it was easy to dismiss someone walking past your house or sending you messages. It was simple for onlookers to minimise the impact on someone’s life.
Victims always hoped that if they were patient enough, the whole thing would just stop and their life could return to normal.
Even knowing everything she did about victimology and self-blame, she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that Stacey hadn’t trusted her enough to confide what she’d been going through.
But her friend would never know that. She would keep in the forefront of her mind that Stacey had been the victim, and she would give her nothing but support.
‘She just needs time,’ Alison observed. ‘Her feelings are complicated when it comes to you.’
‘She hates me,’ Stacey said, turning away.
Alison kept quiet as she opened her laptop, because she knew that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Initially she’d felt her anger rise at the inspector for her treatment of her best friend. The tension when they were in the same room was palpable. There had been a set expression on Kim Stone’s face every time Stacey had spoken. Alison had wanted to shake some sense into her, but as she’d listened, she’d realised one very important thing. Her expertise wasn’t needed on this case. In her own twisted way, the boss had made sure Stacey had someone to offer the support that she herself couldn’t give her.
FORTY-SEVEN
‘Guv, can I ask…?’
‘No,’ she said as he turned the engine off.
She looked out at the property she’d directed Bryant to. ‘Sometimes I have to just ask you to trust me, okay?’
‘Got it,’ he said as she got out the car.
She hadn’t told a soul about what she’d seen on the Ring camera the night before. There was only one person she was prepared to discuss that with. And it was the person who drove the small blue car.
She pressed the call button, and Devon’s voice reached her through the speaker.
‘It’s me, Stone. Can I come up?’
Kim wasn’t sure how to introduce herself. She wasn’t here as a friend and nor was she here as an investigating officer. She was somewhere in between.
Devon was waiting in the open doorway, already dressed for her late shift as an immigration officer.
‘Not sure why you’re here, but come in.’
Despite the edge she heard in the woman’s voice, Kim walked past her into the home she shared with Stacey.
‘I hear you’re not taking the news of Stacey’s deceit well,’ Devon said, closing the front door.
‘When did she tell you about Birch?’ Kim asked, turning to face her.
Stacey’s wife or not, Kim wasn’t going to discuss her own feelings on the matter.
‘About twelve hours before she told you from what I understand.’
‘And you were angry?’
Devon had the grace to look shamed. ‘I’m not proud of the way I took the news. I’m her wife. I realised my mistake and got that Stacey had been terrorised. I apologised and offered my full support, and it’s a shame her boss and colleagues can’t—’
‘So what did you do?’ Kim asked, fighting down the anger. She wanted so badly to respond, but then she’d just be thrown out of the house without the answers she needed.
