Chapter 17

Tiff found herself drinking a cup of coffee at Costa but very definitely not with the young man who had invited her.

If she returned home now, her mum would start in on her immediately. The woman had the power to know her every mood swing, but Tiff was also aware she hadn't done a good job of developing a decent poker face.

Her mum hadn't been keen on the idea of her trying out for CID, feeling that her shifts were long enough without the extra pressure of studying around a full-time job.

Tiff suspected that her concern was only half baked, though, and that she was more concerned that the time studying was keeping her further away from finding the man she would eventually marry and produce grandchildren with.

Her mum wanted her out socialising, actively trying to ensnare some poor unsuspecting male. Unfortunately, studying wasn't the only element affecting her dwindling social life.

Since joining the police force, many of her civilian friends had drifted away after countless refusals or cancellations due to shift working. Eventually the invitations had dried up. And now many of her police friends were distancing themselves from her too.

So, here she was, hitting her mid-twenties with no boyfriend, hardly any friends and still living at home with her mum. And yet none of these facts were responsible for the need to stop for coffee and gather her thoughts.

There was a feeling in her stomach. She could only liken it to a mixture of anger and despair. She felt like a child being led in the wrong direction, knowing it was the wrong direction and not being able to stop it because her fingers were clamped firmly in someone else's hand. It was panic, resistance, and she'd never felt it before.

The meeting with Logan had been unsettling. She told herself she didn't blame him at all for his odd behaviour during the identification. There was no right or wrong way to act under unique and unexpected circumstances. Yes, but there is a normal way, a small voice whispered inside her. Normally the viewer didn't ask if they could see the whole body. They didn't ask if they could touch the skin or stare studiously as though memorising the details.

At first, part of her had believed he was holding stuff in for the sake of his mother. That he'd taken on the task of identification to spare her feelings and the trauma of seeing the man she'd been dating in such a state. But his recent behaviour was causing her to question her initial thoughts.

She sighed heavily, knowing she had to shake off the alien feeling inside. Her job was done, and tomorrow she'd be back in uniform and under other instructions. You couldn't like everyone you were forced to deal with.

And that was part of the problem, Tiff realised. She didn't actually like Logan Dench, but she had no idea why. He'd been polite and respectful. Yes, he'd overstepped the mark asking her for coffee, but she could have read too much into that. It could just have been a casual ‘wanna get coffee so I don't have to go report back to my mom quite yet' kind of thing. He wouldn't relish having to relive the experience if his mom insisted on detail.

To put her feelings to bed, she decided to focus on the fact that Logan was trying very hard to take care of his mom.

She drained the last of her coffee as her phone sounded from her satchel.

It was an international number that looked vaguely familiar.

‘Hello,' she answered.

‘Is that Tiffany Moore?'

The woman's voice was tremulous, and Tiff knew exactly who was calling.

‘It is. I assume you got my message.'

‘I did,' James's sister, Esther Nixon, said. ‘And thank you for leaving your number. Is it definitely him?'

‘We have a positive identification from one of the last people to see him alive,' Tiff said gently.

She heard a small sob on the other end of the phone.

‘Did he suffer?'

‘I'm sorry, I can't share a lot with you until an investigation team takes over the case. I can only tell you that he was found in a fishing lake, and it appears he'd been there some time. I'm so sorry for your loss.'

‘I knew it. When he didn't call after a couple of months, I knew he was dead. Really, I knew straight away. He'd never have run out on Olivia like that. He was head over heels. He wouldn't have?—'

‘Really?' Tiff asked. ‘I thought it was more of a casual thing.'

‘Not on his part. He told me he'd never met anyone like her, that when they were together all they did was laugh. He was almost in tears when he told me about how she'd taken care of her late husband. After all those years, I really thought he'd found the one. He was the happiest he'd ever been.'

‘Despite the depression?' Tiff asked.

‘What depression?'

Tiff grimaced, feeling like she'd said too much. If he'd been hiding it from his girlfriend, it wasn't much of a stretch to believe he'd hidden it from his sister.

‘You're saying James didn't suffer from depression?'

‘Well, maybe occasionally, but not for a long time.'

Tiff tried to be as tactful as possible. ‘So he could have been depressed?'

‘Well, I suppose. I mean, there's a chance, but he would never have taken his own life.'

‘No one is saying that. He could have fallen into the water after being unwell. We won't know anything for sure until after the post-mortem.'

Suddenly Tiff was beginning to feel out of her depth. She had no place in this conversation. She was just the officer at the scene.

‘Look, I promise that a member of CID will be in touch as soon as there's more detail available.'

‘Okay, thank you. Can I ask how Olivia handled the identification? It couldn't have been pleasant for her.'

‘She was spared the ordeal. Logan offered to do it in her place.'

The line went silent.

‘Esther?'

‘I'm sorry. I just had the irrational thought that James wouldn't have liked that at all. But of course he wouldn't have known.'

‘Why's that?' Tiff asked in spite of herself.

‘Because he hated the sight of that boy.'

Tiff said her goodbyes and wasn't surprised to find that once again her stomach was in knots.