Page 51 of Better the Devil

Ben, who had been sitting slightly apart from the rest of the team, enjoying his final few sandwiches, glanced around at the floor, suddenly remembering something.

‘Speaking of dugs, where’s Taggart? I’ve no’ seen him. He’d usually be sat here giving me the eyes.’

‘He’s at home,’ Logan said, striding the rest of the way into the room.

Ben frowned. ‘What, on his own?’

‘No. Olivia’s there. She’s off sick with…’

He stopped talking. Stopped walking. Just stopped right there in the middle of the room.

Olivia was at home.

Olivia was alone.

‘Shite,’ Jack muttered. He reached into his pocket for his phone. ‘We need to get on to Palmer’s team, get Uniform to get up to Forres and secure?—’

‘Already in hand, sir,’ Hamza said.

Logan paused, mid-dial. He met Hamza’s eye and gave him a nod. ‘Good work. Don’t call me sir.’

The others started packing up, getting organised, making plans for the trip out east. Logan stood in the middle of it all, at the eye of the storm, listening to the ringing, and ringing, and ringing of Olivia’s phone.

The girl was never off the thing.

It was always in her hand.

She wasn’t answering.

‘I’m going to meet you there,’ Logan said. He was already halfway to the door, his mind already miles away. ‘There’s something I need to go check up on.’

Before anyone had a chance to ask him any more, he was gone. They all watched in silence once again as the door swung closed and settled into place.

‘What was all that about?’ Tyler wondered.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Hamza said, grabbing for his jacket. ‘We need to get out there as quick as we can.’

‘What’s the big rush?’ asked Dave. ‘Thought you said it was all in hand.’

‘It is,’ Hamza confirmed. He knocked back a swig of cold coffee and grimaced. ‘But Forres technically isn’t our patch. It’s the Aberdeen team. So, if we want to stake our claim to it, we’d better make sure we get there first.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Logan swervedas he pulled onto the street, swinging out wide to avoid a head-on with a taxi coming in the opposite direction. Both drivers blasted their horns, gave the finger, then floored it away in opposite directions.

It was only as Logan screeched to a halt outside his house that the significance of the close-call hit home. Had there been anyone in the back seat? Had the taxi been picking up, or dropping off?

He was up the path in a few big bounds. The early afternoon sunlight made a mirror of the living room window, so all he saw was himself. All he saw was panic.

‘Olivia?’

The door was unlocked. From somewhere in the house, Jack heard barking, and the scratching of claws on wood.

The kitchen. Taggart was shut in the kitchen.

But Taggart wasnevershut in the kitchen.

The living room door was ajar. There was noise from in there. Voices. He charged on through, coat tails trailing behind him, eyes scanning the room for someone. Anyone.