Something You Are Read Online Free

was too quiet and the room was too bright.
    I reached forwards and ran my hands down either side of the mirror. My fingers brushed against something Sellotaped to the back and I stood up to peel it off. It was a bag of white powder.
    â€˜No, she wouldn’t…’ She stepped into the room.
    I put it in my pocket along with the diary and address book. ‘Don’t worry, it might not even have any relevance.’
    â€˜It’s relevant to me.’
    I looked back at Emma’s bedside table and saw on the digital clock that it was almost three in morning.
    â€˜I’m going to go home,’ I said. ‘I think I’ve got enough information to get started. I’ll call round tomorrow… or later today, I mean. Hopefully Pat will be back by then and if thepolice find anything in the meantime I’ll know before anyone else.’
    â€˜Are you just going to take those?’ She indicated her head at my pocket. ‘She might come back and if she sees we’ve…’
    I didn’t say anything.
    â€˜I get it,’ she said. ‘You don’t think she’s coming back, do you?’
    â€˜No, I’m just doing my job.’
    She looked me up and down but she seemed too tired to argue further.
    â€˜Fine,’ she said.
    â€˜Cool. I’ll check in later.’
    I brushed against her shoulder as I walked towards the stairs, but her arms were folded and the scars on her wrists weren’t visible.
    My mobile started vibrating in my pocket. It was Brinks, and I already knew what he was going to say. He wouldn’t call me at this time of night unless it was from a crime scene.
    â€˜Yep?’
    Brinks sounded as if he was walking, heavy breaths sending white noise down the line. ‘We’ve got the guys from Family Liaison heading over to the parents now. Poor bastards are going to have to identify a body.’
    â€˜You found her?’
    â€˜Her… it, whatever. If it wasn’t for some of the clothes you described I wouldn’t even fucking know.’
    â€˜Is it bad?’
    â€˜Bad? More like unrecognizable. Seriously, Nic, shot and beaten to fuck.’
    My thoughts went to the girl’s face in the picture frame; red, purple and smashed. I avoided looking back up the stairsat Clare, but I could feel her expression searing straight through me.
    â€˜Who found her?’
    â€˜Taxi driver. I’ll give you the names and statements as and when.’
    â€˜You sound spooked?’
    â€˜Yeah, well, you’re not here. We’ll catch up later; I’ll give you some photos and stuff. Just thought you should know.’
    â€˜Thanks, I suppose.’
    â€˜Laters.’
    In a moment of sheer dread I considered carrying on down the stairs, leaving without meeting her eyes and pretending the last thirty seconds hadn’t happened. I put my phone in my pocket, with the diary and coke, and looked up at her.
    She took a breath and a few of the waiting tears worked their way out. ‘Who was that?’
    â€˜Listen, don’t panic,’ I said, marvelling at how ridiculous it sounded. ‘Listen to me. In a couple of minutes some officers are going to arrive and ask you to go down to the hospital to identify someone. Can you get ahold of Pat?’
    â€˜I’ve tried, he’s not answering…’ She came down a few steps. ‘What do you mean
identify
someone? You mean they’ve found something, don’t you?’
    â€˜I don’t know yet.’
    Why had I come back? Why hadn’t I just stayed in my car? Why hadn’t I just stayed at home and avoided this mess?
    She came closer but still stayed above me. ‘Don’t
fucking
lie.’
    It would be an insult to deny it. She knew more than that. It was admirable that she found the control to keep talking, even with the tears rolling down her cheeks from red eyes that the grief hadn’t yet caught up with.
    â€˜I think it’s her,’ I