See No Evil (Detective Hannah Robbins crime series Book 7)

  Text copyright © 2020 Rebecca Bradley

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Design for Writers.

  Do you want to claim your FREE copy of Three Weeks Dead, the prequel novella to Shallow Waters, Made to be Broken, Fighting Monsters, The Twisted Web, Kill For Me and A Deeper Song a police procedural series? I’d love it if you joined my readers’ club and joined the many others who have enjoyed the DI Hannah Robbins series.

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  Prologue

  When the police left him here, they’d told him he would be safe. He remembered the female officer’s words as he cowered under the duvet, waiting for the footsteps, for the creak of the door. For the hand on his wrist.

  The quilt was warm and heavy, but it was a false protection. Their hands sneaked beneath and pulled him out by his arm. Dragging him out into the light from the dark.

  This was not a one-off and eventually he learnt not to go alone with them. He took his friend for comfort. They’d never see his friend who was excellent at staying hidden, but he could always see him. Wherever he went, his friend followed. Faithful and loyal. Never looking away. He was safer in some strange way, because his friend was constant. Not being alone gave him strength.

  They made him run as they threw objects at him. Made him a moving target practice. Aiming for his body so the bruises they inflicted could never been seen. Tears tracked silently down his cheeks as each item slammed into his small and fragile body.

  To cry out resulted in a punishment. How this wasn’t a punishment he didn’t understand. Surely he was being punished for something he had done. He tried to be a good boy. He couldn’t remember doing anything that meant they would punish him this way.

  But still they came for him.

  It was all a game to them. It didn’t feel much like a game to him.

  Soon it progressed. The running and throwing was not enough for them. They used wood to beat his small frame. He had to bend over as they slammed down the wood on his bony back and as they did he locked eyes with his friend and promised one day he would be safe. He promised he would survive this. It was the only way he got through those nights. Removing himself from where he was and melting into the heart of his friend who never let him down. Not once.

  He couldn’t talk to anyone about it. But he had his friend. It was a one-way conversation, but he’d take it. Someone to confide in about the hurt and the bruises. The ridicule and the laughter. His total and utter misery. How he wanted to escape from this place. They could escape together. One day they would be free of here and they would be free together. The boy made a promise he would never forget his friend and how he shielded him from the pain of living through the torment alone.

  1

  Nine weeks had passed since I’d last been at work. Nine weeks since they kidnapped me off the street during an investigation into a missing person case. Held me against my will, locked in a room for days on end, with barely any food and isolated from most human contact. The kidnappers were part of a cult led by the brother of the missing person we had been investigating. I’d been lucky to escape with my life.

  Three weeks abducted and six weeks healing from having my hand stamped on. Bones broken. Two surgeries needed.

  Now I was back. I pulled up to the large gates that secured the police yard, pulled on the handbrake and looked up at the square brick building. I would soon be back inside where everyone would greet me like a long-lost friend, all warm and welcoming. This wasn’t a problem, I just didn’t need to be molly-coddled. I wanted to get back to work and pretend the abduction hadn’t happened. I was their detective inspector; I didn’t need to be seen in a different light by my team. I didn’t want the events of those days to undermine my authority. I wanted to push on as usual. Get back to normality.

  I swiped my warrant card, which doubled as an entry card to secure yards and buildings, through the electronic reader, and the huge gates slowly swung open in front of me.

  Aaron, my detective sergeant, had phoned me last night to see how I was and how I felt about coming back. Catherine Walker, my detective superintendent, had also called me to see how I was feeling about my return. I reassured both of them I was fine and was looking forward to getting my teeth into some work. Aaron sounded unconvinced, and Catherine asked me to attend her office as soon as I arrived.

  I entered the building and wondered if I should visit Catherine first or pay a visit to my office to see what work had piled up in my absence. There had been another DI temporarily covering the team while I was on sick leave, but there would still be work on my desk and in my email inbox.

  I’d had frequent texts and calls from the team during my time away all telling me they missed my leadership and though the DI they currently had was fine, they couldn’t wait for my return. It was supposed to make me feel wanted and not forgotten, but all I’d wanted was for them to give me some peace for a while. I wanted to stuff my nose in a book and lose myself in another world, one where I knew nothing about cults or policing. I wanted escapism.

  The desk in front of Catherine’s office was empty. Her PA wouldn’t be here for another hour. I knocked on her door and waited for her to shout me in. Instead, the door opened and she stood there with a smile on her face as she stepped back and ushered me into the room. I was a little taken aback that she had opened her own door for me.

  ‘Morning, Hannah. Come in, come in.’ Catherine moved back towards her desk, her sleek dark bobbed hair swinging as she moved, and I followed her.

  ‘How are you this morning?’ She seated herself and looked up at me. ‘Do take a seat.’ She smiled.

  I took the chair opposite her.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said, wondering how often I would have to say those words today.

  ‘I see they’ve signed you fit for duty, but you have to continue your counselling sessions. Are you finding them helpful?’

  I clenched my jaw, tension running up my face, waited a beat, then relaxed again. ‘I’m being forced to attend the sessions. If they left it up to me, I wouldn’t. I want to get things back to normal.’

  ‘Ah.’ Another smile. If she kept doing that I’d worry about her and suggest she need counselling herself.

  ‘That word,’ she continued, ‘normal.’ She air quoted with her fingers. ‘It’s not one of the suggested words in a counselling setting, is it?’ She tucked her hair behind an ear and waited for me to respond.

  My head ached from preventing myself from rolling my eyes at her. A band tightening with Walker in control of the screw. I’d so had it up to my neck with counselling and the language that was and wasn’t acceptable around what had happened to me. It was a set of circumstances that had occurred during an investigation, which was now over. It was time to return to my desk and carry on my job like everyone else.

  I stared out the window of the corner office. It had two enormous windows, one behind and one at the side of her. It was early June, and the day was bright. It was a minute before I realised she was waiting for a response. I turned back to face her. Instead of being her usual self, impatient and scolding me for wandering off and bringing me back to the conversation, she had watched me as I’d stared off at the street below. This was definitely unnerving.

  I straightened myself up in my chair, brushed a piece of lint from my trousers and smiled. ‘Counselling went well and you’re right in that normal is not a word th
ey encourage, but I’m sure you understand my meaning. I want to return to work and my team and get on with the jobs that come in as I would have before any of this happened.’ I pushed my shoulders back. ‘They’ve cleared me to return.’ My voice was a little sharper than I would have wanted it to be.

  She smiled at me again. ‘I know they have, Hannah. I’m not disputing that. I want to know what I can do for you to ease your transition back into a working environment.’

  Did she care or was she worried about any fallout a mistake on my shift would create? I flexed my right hand. It ached. It had healed but would undoubtedly be a permanent reminder of my time in captivity, like my right bicep was a reminder of the police operation that went wrong a little over eighteen months ago when I was stabbed in the arm.

  There was a slight cough as she yet again waited for me to answer. I mentally kicked myself. This was not helping my case.

  ‘Hannah?’ she said quietly.

  ‘I’m okay,’ I reassured her. ‘It’s the first day. I have a few first day nerves.’ I had to give her something. ‘But I’m good to go, you know that, you have the report.’

  She lifted the couple of sheets of paper and waved them at me. ‘It tells me you’ve done well in your mandatory sessions. I think you’d be very capable of giving them what they want if you so wished. What I want to know is, no matter what state you may actually be in, if there’s anything I can do to help you as you return.’

  That had been the original question I’d flaked out on. I had to focus. I let out a slow breath. ‘There’s nothing, thank you, Ma’am. What I need is my team around me and work to get stuck into.’

  She dropped the sheets of paper she’d been holding onto her desk. ‘Okay then.’ She was all business again. Back to the superintendent I knew. I was more comfortable now.

  ‘I imagine you want to know about the Harper investigation and his band of merry men and women who escaped when they set fire to the building you were in?’

  Did I want to know or did I want to shove it in a box somewhere in the depths of my mind and pretend like it had never happened? I shrugged.

  Walker continued. ‘We have a different team working on it now. I don’t think it’s right that you and your team should investigate it, bearing in mind that you were a…’ She paused. She’d been about to use the word victim for me in relation to my connection to the case. ‘Bearing in mind,’ she pushed her shoulders back, ‘that you are personally involved.’

  She’d done a pretty good job of escaping that little hole. I didn’t speak. I waited her out. I had nothing to say.

  ‘So far they haven’t located them. They’re pretty good at staying under the radar. Now you’re back at work I’ll let the team know and they can get in touch with you and see if you can offer them any further help. It may be you have information about the way they operate, what facilities they have, how they’re able to avoid alerting people that they’re about.’

  ‘They had me locked in a room the entire time I was there,’ I finally managed to say. ‘I’m not sure I have anything to add to what I already told you when I was first found.’

  There was a quiet sigh, one she was hoping I wouldn’t catch, but I was alert, prickly. ‘You know the procedure, Hannah. We have to cover all bases and you are one of those bases, unfortunately. Just go with it for the few minutes it will take.’

  ‘And my team?’ I changed the subject. It was all too close for me. My skin crawled as the memories of what happened there pushed forward.

  ‘You’re aware we’ve had someone in covering you.’ She allowed me to move on. I was grateful. ‘I’ve asked him to email you a comprehensive report on the case the team is running at this moment so you are up to date with it. I’m sure you can apprise yourself of it before they all get in.’

  ‘I heard they had a murder two weeks ago.’

  ‘Yes. A violent one by all accounts.’

  ‘Something to get my teeth into.’ I needed work. It would keep me focused.

  ‘He’s willing to come in if you need him at any point to help you out.’

  I bristled.

  ‘It’s not an aspersion on you, Hannah. He was simply being generous with his time and his knowledge of the case so far. Stop being so prickly.’

  ‘Is there anything else?’ I put my hands on the arms of the chair.

  She shook her head and I pushed myself up. ‘Thank you, Ma’am.’ As I reached the door I heard her voice, quiet again.

  ‘Hannah.’

  I turned, my hand on the door ready for my escape.

  ‘I’m here if you need me.’

  2

  The ladies’ toilets smelled of bleach and floral air freshener. The cleaners were always in before me, regardless of how early I arrived.

  I stood in front of the long mirror above the sinks and looked at my reflection. Was this still the same woman I had been a couple of months ago? Before I’d been abducted off the street and held captive for days by some crazed cult. Did I really need handling so gently that the detective superintendent in charge of our unit changed the way she spoke to me?

  The image that stared back at me was pale, with dark smudges under her eyes. Her shoulder length hair seemed to have lost any life it may have previously held, lank and dull, and she was holding her right arm stiffly, her hand in front of her body as though she were in persistent pain.

  I closed my eyes against the person in front of me. I didn’t need to see the evidence of what had happened. I could feel it every day. I could feel it every hour of every day, every minute of every hour and every second of every minute. The damage was dragged around with me like a cord around my neck, pulling me down.

  My dad and Zoe had been amazing in trying to keep my spirits up since I’d been back but I was struggling to deal with the residual ache, which didn’t help my mood.

  I opened my eyes and looked at the image in the mirror again. Time to pull myself together and be the person my team expected me to be. I dumped my handbag on the counter and rummaged inside it, retrieving the meds I had been prescribed to help me cope with the pain. At first I’d been given them to help me with my arm injury but the doctor had no qualms about continuing with the prescription. I was grateful to her. They helped.

  I popped a couple of pills out and threw them into my mouth, bent down to the tap, twisted it on and sucked up a mouthful of water to swallow them down. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand then examined the pack. I tipped the plastic strips into my palm and counted to check I had enough to last me. Not just for the day, but for however long I might need them. Then I shoved the pack back into my bag. Took a last look and closed my bag up.

  A dull throb ran through my fingers and I raised my hand in front of me and stretched my fingers out, bent them in then stretched them out again.

  I could do this.

  My office looked the same as when I last left it. The day I’d been abducted. My stomach twisted but I stood my ground, hovered in the doorway a couple of seconds before stepping into the room.

  The DI who had been working in here while I was on sick leave had left everything as he had found it. My messy desk was as filled with work as it usually was, though the piles of folders might have been a little more tidily stacked. I imagined he moved everything off the desk when he worked in here and placed it all back on when he left. I was grateful for his consideration and would thank him in an email this morning.

  I walked around to my chair, lowered myself and stared at my desk. I was back. This is what I’d wanted. But now I was here it was all a little alien. It had been so long since I’d sat in this chair, at this desk and done my job.

  There was a folded piece of paper on top of my laptop with my name scribbled on it. I recognised Evie Small’s handwriting ‒ my best friend and our unit’s crime analyst.

  I unfolded it and read the contents. It didn’t take long.

  Wanted to welcome you back to work. Text me and let me know how you’re doing today. Or better still pop by a
nd see me when you’re ready. I won’t hound you by coming to you. BUT, you’d better come by.

  Evie xx

  She’d must have left it when she was last in because I doubted she was in this early. Evie would want to talk emotions and that was the last thing I needed today. I would catch up with her later. Meanwhile, I had to get through my first day intact. I pushed the note into my bag, opened my laptop and logged on.

  As I waited for the computer to load I looked around my desk for my mug. It was usually stuck on a corner somewhere but I couldn’t see it. I rose and searched the office, eventually finding it on top of my filing cabinet. I needed a green tea to calm myself down and to make the day feel like it was any normal day, so took my mug into the kitchen.

  The kettle was close to boiling when Aaron walked in. ‘I saw your office door was open and your bag on the floor so knew you were in,’ he said, a serious look on his face. ‘I thought I might find you in here. How are you?’

  Aaron Stone was my DS and my friend. We’d been through so much together. I was always grateful to have him by my side. ‘I’m good,’ I said. ‘Looking forward to getting back into things. I’ve spent far too long at home with family. I was desperate to escape, find some common sense.’

  The kettle came to the boil, steam filling the air around us. Aaron placed his mug down next to mine and fished in the cabinets for the coffee, spooning it into his mug.

  ‘You’re ready to be back?’ he asked.

  I forced a laugh. ‘I’m going to be asked that all day, aren’t I?’

  ‘You’ve seen Catherine already?’

  ‘Yeah, she called me last night and told me to make myself available to her as soon as I landed this morning. I went up and got the speech about taking care of myself.’ I ran a hand through my hair. This was going to be a long day.