Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

‘No, I’ll stand, thank you.’ His eyes flickered across my face and then down to the floor. ‘Rachel, this is slightly awkward, but I’ve been talking to my colleagues at the station and they’ve given me a bit of a bollocking.’

‘What do you mean?’ Anxiety was zipping through my veins and I felt slightly sick.

‘I’m so sorry, let me explain. You may have noticed I asked quite a few questions about Patrick last night? We’re actually trying to find him at the moment as we’re investigating him on charges of fraud.’

My jaw dropped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I wanted to know if you were aware of anything or if you’d been in contact with him recently.’

‘I don’t know anything and I have no idea where he is.’

‘No, I believe you, I really do. But I was naïve in thinking that meant we could eliminate you from our enquiries. My chief inspector wants to keep all lines of enquiry open and that means you’re part of a live investigation.’

I crossed my arms in front of me, feeling suddenly cold and uncertain. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Not a great deal, but I would like to take a statement from you down at the station.’

‘But why? I don’t know anything.’

‘I know. You just have to confirm you don’t, that’s all.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘It won’t take long.’

‘You want me to come now?’ I blinked at him.

‘If possible. Can Bobbi mind the shop?’

‘Yes.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘I’ll be back before closing, won’t I?’

‘Of course. Like I said, it won’t take long. I’m parked out front if you’d like to come with me.’

I hesitated. ‘Would I have to sit in the back like a criminal?’

Anthony drew in a deep breath. ‘I’ll meet you down there, shall I? Say, twenty minutes?’

‘Fine.’

He touched my arm, gently, and gave me a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry. It will be okay.’

I nodded and looked at the floor. Tears burned behind my eyes. I felt so let down and disappointed. The realisation that he’d just been trying to gain information about Patrick was like a punch in the stomach. I thought he’d genuinely liked me. I was such a fool.

Anthony left and I took a moment to collect my thoughts. Bobbi came and leaned on the doorframe, raising her eyebrows enquiringly.

‘Can you mind the shop until I get back?’ I said, pulling on my coat.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Well, you know Anthony’s a detective? Apparently, he’s investigating Patrick and now he wants me to go to the station and make a statement.’ I pasted on a wry smile and rolled my eyes, trying to front it out.

‘Noooo!’ Bobbi looked outraged.

‘Yes. It seems he took me out last night to see what I knew.’

‘But he kissed you, didn’t he? He can’t kiss you if you’re part of a case, surely? And what happened to the police taking you to the station to ask questions? You should lodge a complaint against him.’

I sighed as I put my bag over my shoulder. ‘It doesn’t matter. We only had dinner. No big deal. Anyway, I shouldn’t be long. I’ll be back soon.’

I nipped out of the back door to where my car was parked in the courtyard behind. My hands were shaking as I climbed inside and stared at the steering wheel for a few moments, trying to grasp what I was supposed to be doing. I hadn’t even begun to process the fact that Patrick was wanted for fraud. I didn’t know what to think. He might not even be guilty. I hated the thought that I could have been engaged to a criminal. Was I really such a poor judge of character? I supposed I must be to have been taken in so thoroughly by Anthony too. I felt my composure start to crumble and briskly rubbed my face before starting the car. I needed to focus on getting to the police station and answering these questions. There was no way I was going to show up at the station tear-stained and blotchy. No, I was going to keep it together. Any emotional stuff could be dealt with later.

Anthony was behind the desk when I walked into the station ten minutes later. He looked up and smiled and indicated for me to follow him down the corridor into one of the interview rooms. I sat down on the plastic chair opposite him and blinked around at the plain white walls and grey carpet.

‘I know, it’s a bit joyless, isn’t it? Still, this won’t take long. Just a few questions, that’s all. My colleague, DC Harper, will be joining us shortly. Can I get you a drink of tea or coffee?’

I shook my head.

‘Water?’

‘Yes, please.’ He got up and filled a plastic cup from the water dispenser at the side of the room.

‘Thank you,’ I said, averting my gaze as he passed it to me. He was smiling too kindly. Too sympathetically. I didn’t want to get tangled up in his eyes and lose myself again. My defences were up and I needed to keep them that way. I stared at the desk, the fan, the notepad on the desk, anything but his lovely, handsome face. He picked up a pen and tapped it on the paper, and I found myself watching his fingers and remembering how they felt last night when they were wrapped around mine.

I looked away. At least I hadn’t slept with him.

‘Do you mind if we take some details down now?’ he asked, picking up the pen.

‘No, of course not.’

He started filling in a form with my personal details and then the door opened and the tall, dark-haired man I’d seen talking to him in the street earlier appeared. He smiled at me and took the seat next to Anthony. They proceeded to ask me most of the questions Anthony had asked last night. It was worse here, though, in this little room, with two of them watching me, judging me. In the months since I’d split from Patrick, I’d come to realise and accept that I’d never really known him, and the questions they were asking me only confirmed this. I felt stupid and clueless and almost wished I had had some idea about Patrick’s illegal dealings, if only to prove I wasn’t a complete idiot. To their credit, neither Anthony nor his colleague were looking particularly judgemental. They just looked a bit disappointed I wouldn’t be able to help them find Patrick. They’d been looking for him for more than a month now and, although they had arrested his associates, he seemed to have disappeared completely.

‘So, you don’t have his phone number any more? Do you have the same phone?’

‘No, I changed it.’ I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. ‘It’s in a drawer at home, actually. But I doubt it will do you any good. It’s a bit broken.’ I winced slightly, not liking to admit that I’d thrown it against the wall and stamped on it in a fit of anger.

‘Is the sim card still in it?’ Anthony suddenly looked interested.

‘Yes.’

‘Excellent! Can we have it to see if we can retrieve any useful information?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why do you still have it?’ DC Harper looked at me curiously.

‘I wasn’t sure what to do with it, really. You can’t just put them in the bin, can you? You have to recycle them and I just hadn’t got round to thinking about it. So, I just put it in a drawer and forgot about it.’

‘Would I be able to look at the engagement ring, too?’

‘If you like. Why? Do you think it’s stolen?’ I felt flat and emotionless all of a sudden, like my life was splayed out on the table we were sitting at for them to forensically examine.

‘Did you exchange any emails with Patrick?’