Chapter 27

Dawn was in the back of a police car, sitting next to a female uniformed officer who had sprayed far too much fragrance on that morning. It was an assault on the senses.

Dawn couldn't take her eyes off the house her father had lived in. White-suited forensic officers had arrived not long after the first attending officer on the scene. She had watched them suit up from the back of the car.

The police officer next to her spoke in faux soothing tones. ‘I'm so sorry for your loss. Were you close? Try not to think of how you saw him just now; remember the good times.'

Dawn tuned her out. She wished she'd just shut up and leave her with her thoughts.

A car pulled up, and a man stepped out whom she vaguely recognised. She watched as he took a coat from the back seat and put it on. It looked too big for him, hanging from his shoulders as if from a coat hanger in a wardrobe. He looked up at the house. Dawn followed his gaze but had no idea what he was looking at. He shivered as a gust of cold wind seemed to chill him. He pulled the coat tightly around him and headed for the front door. He flashed his ID to a uniformed officer freezing to death on the doorstep before signing something and stepping inside.

Terry Braithwaite. Dawn remembered him from when she'd visited Stephanie's parents' house. He'd warned her to stay away from them. It was obvious he had hated her father and didn't agree with him being released. Surely he wasn't going to be involved in the investigation of his murder?

A white van turned the corner too quickly and screeched to a halt to avoid crashing into a forensics van. Dawn looked up and saw her mother had arrived.

‘That's my mum. Can you let me out, please?' Dawn asked the officer.

Dawn rapped on the window to get her mother's attention. Rita saw her and ran over to the car, pulling open the door.

‘Oh, Mum,' was all Dawn could say, before the tears started to fall again.

Rita lifted her daughter out of the car and pulled her into a tight embrace.

‘Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. What happened?' she asked the police officer.

‘We don't know yet. It's possible he disturbed a burglar.'

‘Mum, you should have seen him,' Dawn said, pulling herself out of her mother's embrace. She wiped her eyes. ‘He'd been beaten. He looked a mess. And there was a knife…' she said, before the rest of her words were lost to tears.

‘Can I take her home?'

‘I think DI Braithwaite will want to have a word with her first. He'll be leading the investigation. She'll need to give a statement.'

‘Will you stay with me, Mum?'

‘Of course I will.' Rita held her daughter once more and looked back at the house.

It was an alien sight for Rita. She had only ever seen a crime scene on television dramas and had often wondered what they were really like. Seeing white-suited people milling in and out, she realised how spot-on the dramas were. She held her daughter tighter and closed her eyes. She had known something like this was going to happen. She had known Dawn meeting her father was going to end in tears, and she'd be left to pick up the pieces.

Bloody Dominic, she thought. Why couldn't he have simply died in prison and saved us all this heartache?