Chapter One; In Deep
Jackie Grayson paced the claustrophobic waiting room that she had been ushered into a little over an hour ago.
She pulled her long dark grey cardigan around her body. She was inappropriately dressed to be out in public, under any other circumstances. A mismatched white vest with green flowers printed on paired with purple tartan pyjama bottoms while on her feet she wore light blue Nike running shoes. She had dressed in a hurry.
The confusion of her mind as she replayed the frantic phone call received a little after two thirty, the call that had woke her from a foggy sleep that had been induced by the bottle of red wine she'd consumed with her microwave lasagne earlier on the quite Friday evening.
Considering that she sat in the bowels of City Central Police HQ she wasn't even sure she had even been legal to drive given the quantity of alcohol she had consumed, she hadn't questioned that matter though as she'd jumped into her SUV and driven at speed through suburbs into the City which was all but deserted by the time she'd arrived. She had driven at speed haunted by Daisy's tears and hectic, petrified unfinished sentences that had scared her, and that still scared her as she heard them over and over in her mind. Jackie's hands shook with a silent rage. What had she been doing there alone? She'd been supposed to have been staying at her friend Jennifer's. She trusted her, just as she had done in the past. She had not seen her since breakfast time the previous morning, perhaps there was a change of plans that explained everything.
Jackie had so many questions for Daisy none of which she'd been able to ask the emotionally, distressed teen when she'd found her huddled in the doorway of a convenience store at three in the morning. She drove her daughter straight here to Police HQ a building she knew well in a professional capacity, she had been emotional herself as she drove piecing together the nightmare scenario that her daughter had lived through, pieces of an ugly horrible scenario becoming clearer the more Daisy spoke on quick half sentences.
She didn't believe she had any idea of the full details, but she knew, the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach underlying her anxiety. Whatever the truth actually was Jackie knew it was bad.
Her attention snaps to the only door into or out of the room, as it slowly opened. A female police officer opened the door wide with a solemn expression etched across her face.
Daisy steps through the doorway, dressed in an ill-fitting light grey sweatshirt and matching bottoms. Her eyes red and heavy, fresh tears streaked her pale skin as her bottom lip quivers.
Jackie rushes to her, flings her arms around her daughter. Locking her into an embrace as they both break down consumed by their emotions.
"What have they done to you my baby .... what have they done?"
**********
Callaghan stood at the breakfast bar of the 'Manoir Spa Hotel' lost for choice in the plethora of food laid out across counter.
She was ravenous, she'd barely slept such had been the passion and the intensity of the hours that followed his late arrival to the suite. They had certainly made up for lost time she grinned to herself on a recollection of her moment of release, one of her moments of release.
She loaded up the large round plate she clutched with continental meats and cheeses, pausing to set down her plate and pour a long, tall glass of Cranberry juice. Her head pounding from the Champagne that had been repeatedly ordered on room service, until a little after 4am, the Champagne and the Cocaine that Andrew Baxter had cut on the bedside table between sessions of slow tenderness and furious intensity.
Crossing the restaurant in her figure-hugging tight denim jeans with a white bra under a white sheer blouse she watched him pouring a large mug of steaming coffee at their window seat. Dressed in dark denims and a fitted black polo shirt that complimented his physique.
The smile wiped from her face a little as she felt her phone beginning to vibrate in her rear pocket.
Callaghan set down her juice and plate of food on the table and fished the phone out. The number of her investigation unit scrolled across the screen.
"I'm sorry I've gotta..."
She hadn't finished her sentence by time she'd slid the screen open on the call. Andrew's subtle hand gesture indicating he wasn't offended by the intrusion.
"Callaghan" she answered brusquely.
"Ma'am it's Hook" she recognised the female officer's northern accent simply on the word Ma'am. "I appreciate you're on this weekend course and I wouldn't interrupt if it wasn't important but...."
"No no it's fine," Callaghan reassured "I'm only just grabbing breakfast... it's all fairly relaxed here."
"I think you'll want to come in Ma'am..." silently Callaghan cursed to herself at those words "...I'm just going through last night's activity logs.... there's a report of a sexual assault at a Club in Town."
"Go on," Callaghan pressed, her brow furrowing a little at the interruption but immediately concerned with the seriousness of the report.
"Ma'am the victim has ...in her statement she's mentioned a mask... a mask with a skull on it."
Callaghan barely had time to apologise to Andrew, as confused as his expression had been as she beat a hasty retreat from the breakfast room trying to sign language whilst taking in the scant details that Hook provided her.
She was packed up in no time, cramming clothing and lingerie into the black sports hold-all that served as her overnight bag. They were due to spend the day and the night, but somethings were far more important, far more critical. As sorry as she felt for the victim this could be the evidence the spark that reignited her flailing investigation. The consequence of the horrors of Stirchley Grange Mills moving into the City didn't bear thinking about. Tying her hair back into a ponytail she was at the door by the time he arrived back from his own abruptly finished breakfast.
"Everything alright?" he said as she squeezed past him.
Callaghan knew she shouldn't feel so elated not at some poor girl's expense.
"Yes... yes... "she hurriedly states accepting the croissant stuffed with cheese and ham that he'd prepared for her, the simple gesture making her pause "... I'm so sorry Andrew I'm so sorry."
He didn't cast her any look that said he didn't understand.
"A breakthrough..." she uttered "...finally a potential breakthrough in my case."
"Go" he smirked "Go serve and protect."
"You watch too many trash American Cop dramas," she teased him with a weak smile on opening the door.
