Scared To Tell: Featuring Detective Annie Macpherson Read online

  SCARED TO TELL

  Barbara Fagan Speake

  Prologue

  He comes into my bedroom. Don’t like it. He’s not my boyfriend.

  I shut my eyes. Keep still. I’m sleeping.

  He laughs. ‘I know you’re awake.’

  Gets in my bed. ‘Do this for me.’

  I try to scream. He covers my mouth. I cry. He doesn’t stop. I hate him.

  The other man too. Smells funny. Promises me presents. He lies.

  They say not to tell.

  Know where I live. My house is brown. Take pictures. Will show Mom.

  I don’t like it here. I have to stay sometimes. Mom has things to do. I want to tell her. Tell her the secrets. She will cry. Dad will get angry.

  I’m too scared to tell.

  His voice. I hear him, outside my room. Have to hide. Now.

  Turn the key. Open the patio door. Snow all over my new slippers. Feet cold and wet.

  Close the door.

  Go away. Please. It’s cold out here.

  And I’m sleepy.

  I’m scared, really scared.

  Chapter 1

  The Elms, a purpose-built residential unit, was full to capacity and on Friday night was short staffed. It wasn’t in danger of breaching regulations but the staff team was stretched to the limit, supporting individuals with complex care needs. The snow was playing havoc with travel arrangements.

  ‘It’s not as if the weather warnings haven’t been on the TV all day,’ Carrie Lewis, the unit manager, complained to her deputy as she put the phone down for the third time.

  Janice Lowler was absorbed in preparing the medicine trolley. ‘People should plan ahead, set off earlier. It’s not as if our residents can take care of themselves.’

  ‘Not dedicated like us, hey?’ Carrie sighed.

  ‘We’re old school, Carrie. I’m convinced some of these young staff use the snow as an excuse to have a night off. We manage to get here every time and we live further out than any of them.’

  ‘True but we have husbands with snowploughs fitted to their trucks.’

  Janice laughed. ‘Our secret, huh?’

  Carrie turned back to the computer screen, reviewing the assignments for the shift. ‘I’ll have to support the staff on yellow wing. That last call was from Liz. She’s skidded off the road and is waiting for help. I had assigned her to high dependency tonight.’

  ‘At least she attempted to get here, if you believe her story, of course. She might be sitting in front of her big screen TV with a glass of wine.’

  ‘No,’ Carrie replied. ‘She was too upset on the phone and it sounded like she was shivering from the cold. Anyway, looks like I won’t get much admin done this shift, which is annoying, as it’s piling up.’

  ‘Let me guess, more returns required by the bureaucrats.’

  ‘You got it. Think any of them are working right now?’ Carrie glanced over at Janice, who was checking off the names of the residents, as she put their medication into small plastic cups.

  ‘Don’t make me laugh. If they are, they sure as hell aren’t emptying bedpans or changing tube feeds.’

  The manager sighed again. ‘I sometimes wish I had a simple office job. Nine to five, go home and forget about it. I scan job sites on my phone for vacancies but nothing appeals.’

  ‘Can’t see it, Carrie, you’d miss us too much. Anyway, if you’re covering yellow wing, can you still remember how to do the basics?’

  Carrie raised an eyebrow. ‘I haven’t been in management that long. Page me if you need me and lock the office door when you go out. There’s paperwork everywhere. Don’t want anyone snooping around.’

  ‘Haven’t got a letter offering me a raise, have you, buried in one of your piles?’

  ‘Sure, in fact I have one for both of us,’ she quipped.

  Walking down the right hand corridor, Carrie quickly sussed out who was doing what by looking through each of the windows into the bedrooms. Reaching the last one, she spotted that Peter, one of the most disabled residents, was still in his wheelchair with a blanket on his lap. After a soft knock, she entered. ‘Peter, looks like we need to get you into that warm bed of yours. The weather out there is awful. Now I wonder who should have been helping you.’

  The man’s eyes followed her every move and his jaw twisted as he let out a grunt.

  Standing for a moment, hands on hips, Carrie studied the recently delivered piece of equipment. ‘Sorry, Peter, I’m going to need help with this hoist. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.’ She grabbed the notes from her pocket to find that Steve Carson was assigned to the wing. She frowned, unable to recall seeing him in any of the rooms. She turned and headed towards another part of the building.

  Seconds later, Carrie spotted Steve walking down the corridor of blue wing. ‘I need your help with Peter. It takes two of us to operate his hoist.’

  ‘Liz does Peter,’ he replied, his eyes narrowing.

  ‘Look Steve, I don’t know why you’re annoyed. I’m the one who had to come looking for you. And, in case you haven’t noticed, we have a problem with snow tonight. Liz’s had an accident and won’t be coming in.’

  ‘I got here,’ he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

  ‘And I’m grateful for that. The problem is three staff haven’t and we’re pushed. What are you doing on blue wing anyway? You’re assigned to maximum dependency tonight.’

  ‘I know and I’ve already got Mary, Christina and Mark to bed. When I was out in the corridor a few minutes ago, I thought I’d heard something, that’s all. Wanted to check it out.’

  ‘I appreciate your vigilance but I need you where you should be and, if you’re not, you need to alert someone. Otherwise we’re chasing all over the building for you.’ Carrie turned and headed back towards yellow wing, with Steve trailing behind her.

  ‘Oh no,’ she called out, opening the door to find the young man lying on the floor. ‘Quick, he’s slid out of his wheelchair. I thought he was strapped in.’ Carrie knelt down to check the long-term resident. With no verbal communication, Peter couldn’t tell her if he was hurt or not but she knew he was in pain. She could see it in his eyes, knowing the signs after all the years. Carrie examined the back of Peter’s head and felt a large lump. ‘Don’t worry Peter, you’ll be fine.’

  Peter blinked.

  ‘Call an ambulance, Steve. He needs to be seen.’

  ‘You think an ambulance will come in this weather? They’ll be busy with accidents tonight.’

  ‘Do it!’ Carrie shouted. While trying to comfort Peter, she also chastised herself for not ensuring he was strapped in before she’d left him. Someone had been negligent earlier in the day, leaving him like that. Now there would need to be an accident report and an investigation. What else could go wrong tonight?

  ‘The ambulance is on the way,’ Steve reported, entering Peter’s room again, minutes later.

  ‘Good, I want you to go with him. Stay there until he’s admitted or discharged back here.’

  ‘Me, why me? I thought we were short staffed. One of the junior staff could go.’

  ‘I need you because you know Peter. You’ll need to speak up for him. Make sure he’s seen before he gets too distressed and take his file with you.’

  ‘I still think,’ Steve began to say, before he was interrupted.

  ‘Steve, don’t argue with me. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one in charge. I hand out the assignments. Call me when you get there and tell me what they say. Now stay with him until the ambulance arrives. I’ll see what else needs doing on the wing.’

  As soon as she ha
d turned her back, Steve raised a fist at her and called her a bitch under his breath. Then he grabbed his cell phone and typed a quick text message: Plan changed. Don’t come. Call you later. Closing the phone, he whispered to Peter, ‘I had plans tonight, pal, and you’ve spoiled them. Worse than that, I’ve had to let someone down. That’s never a good thing, not that you’d know much about that. I have to do what I’m told. Can’t risk losing this job, can I? After all, it’s more than a job. It’s my recreation too, isn’t it? Don’t you worry, you’re not part of the game.’ He laughed, knowing that Peter didn’t understand what he was saying.

  Hours later, Steve stood several feet from the entrance to the emergency department and lit up a cigarette. It had taken hours for the medics to make a decision about Peter and by the time they had admitted him, his own shift was ending. What a crap night, he thought, as the taxi drew up to take him back to the Elms to get his car. He’d have to find a way of making up for it.

  Chapter 2

  ‘I can’t understand why women stay with men like that,’ Detective Dave Ellison commented as he and Detective Annie Macpherson left Westford Hospital.

  ‘Amanda Kennerley will have her reasons,’ Annie responded.

  ‘Such as?’ Ellison asked, as he unlocked the doors to his Chevy Trailblazer. The January weather was bitter, the remains of the weekend blizzard piled high on the sides of the parking lot.

  ‘I find they vary. Some women think the blokes will change. They focus on the good times, the special moments and dismiss the rest. They hark back to a time when it was good and think that will come back again, if they try harder. Or else, they like to be rescuers, even more so if the guy in question has had other significant relationships. That’s the real challenge. Each one thinks that they can do better than the last girlfriend, wife or partner. It almost becomes a competition.’

  ‘If I didn’t know better, Annie, I would think you were speaking from experience. Wise words.’

  ‘I am, from police experience, not personal experience.’

  ‘You’re right but if Amanda Kennerley chooses not to press charges this time, next time we could be dealing with a homicide. Her husband’s violence is escalating.’

  ‘We’re doing all we can, Dave. We’ve got an arrest warrant out for Brett Kennerley and an officer stationed outside his wife’s hospital room. Maybe tomorrow we’ll have more to go on, if she’s coherent enough to be interviewed.’

  ‘Hope you’re right.’

  The route they were taking back to headquarters was familiar. Annie had travelled it many times during her first six months with the Westford Connecticut Police Department. This time it all looked different after the heavy snowfall. She marvelled at how efficient the snow ploughing was in the US, compared to back home in the UK. All the pavements, store entrances, driveways and fire hydrants were clear.

  A few minutes later Ellison pulled into the police parking lot and switched off the engine. Before he made any attempt to get out, he turned to Annie. ‘How does it feel to be back?’

  The Scottish detective glanced at the four-story brick building that housed both the Westford Police Department and the Scenes of Crime Forensic Service, recalling the first time she had seen it, the previous July, at the start of her placement. It had seemed imposing then. Now she had come to respect the place and the people and was now back as a member of staff, albeit on a temporary contract. ‘It feels good.’

  ‘I see Captain Franconi is back from vacation,’ Ellison remarked, as he glanced around the parking lot.

  Annie looked over at the captain’s car, parked in his usual spot. ‘I bet no one’s dared park there while he was away.’

  ‘You got us all pegged, Detective.’ Ellison squeezed Annie’s hand. ‘I wish we could have had longer on our own before we had to get back to work.’

  Annie looked around to check no one else was in the parking lot and then she touched her lover’s face. ‘Don’t forget we need to keep our private lives to ourselves.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he responded, ‘although I think it’s more of an open secret then you’d like to think.’

  ‘Aye but let me have that delusion anyway.’

  ‘Sure. You want to go up first and I’ll grab some coffees? Franconi will be pleased to see you.’

  ‘Coffee sounds good,’ Annie replied. ‘It doesn’t feel like it’s been almost a month since I’ve seen him. I hope he hasn’t had second thoughts about offering me the contract.’

  Ellison reached over and ran his fingers through her long blonde curls. ‘No chance. Come on, get out, before I decide to drive us back to mine and skip work for the rest of the day.’

  ‘Scotty, good to have you back.’ Captain Franconi rose from his chair as she approached his office. ‘Has the weather in Scotland been as bad as here?’

  ‘Not as much snow as I see you’ve had, Sir,’ Annie answered, poised by his glass door, wondering if the captain was ever going to stop referring to her as Scotty.

  ‘Better get used to it. January is always bad. That’s why my wife and I vacation in Florida for the first two weeks. Heard you and Ellison have a case already.’

  ‘Domestic violence, Sir. There’s a long history and the husband is missing. A neighbour telephoned it in. Patrol have stacked up several previous incidences but this was by far the worst.’

  ‘Right. Ellison may have to handle it without you. I don’t know what’s up but I’ve got a message that Detective Baxter and one of his team are paying us a visit this morning.’

  ‘Would that be Tom Kessler?’ Annie asked.

  ‘That’s the one. Should be here about eleven o’clock. They asked for you to join us.’

  ‘Of course, Sir.’

  Annie took off her winter parka and hung it on one of the wall hooks. At least the squad room was warm. She looked around, enjoying the familiarity. It somehow felt different starting a twelve-month employment contract, as opposed to the six-month placement she had finished before Christmas. Annie went to her old desk and spotted a plastic container, next to a few pink message slips. There was a note taped to the plastic box, which read: Welcome back Detective. Here’s some of my wife’s Christmas cake for you and your colleagues. See you tomorrow when I’m back on shift. Sarge. Annie smiled and opened the box. The smell of cherries and other dried fruit wafted out.

  Ellison walked in with Detective Bronski, Annie’s former supervisor, before she could replace the lid.

  ‘Something smells good, Detective. Are you holding out on us?’

  Annie smiled at Victor Bronski. ‘Some Christmas cake from Sergeant Owens, with a note to welcome me back. We can have a piece with our coffee.’

  Bronski laughed. ‘I’m afraid I’ve come empty handed, Detective, but it’s good to have you back.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir. It’s good to be back.’

  Ellison placed a coffee on each desk, while Annie dished out the cake.

  ‘I hear you and Detective Ellison have a case already,’ Bronski said, taking the plate.

  ‘That’s correct, except the captain tells me that Detectives Baxter and Kessler are coming in later this morning and he wants me in on the meeting. He hinted I might not have time to stay with the case.’

  ‘Must be important to schedule it the first day the captain’s back from vacation,’ Bronski commented.

  ‘Did the captain give you any indication what it’s about?’ Ellison asked.

  Annie could sense his concern. ‘No, but I’ll know soon. Part of this twelve-month contract is to spend some time with the regional specialist team in New Haven, don’t forget. They are contributing to my salary.’

  ‘Yeah, well in my book, they owe us for all the work you did for them before Christmas,’ Bronski remarked.

  Annie decided not to pursue the matter. She respected his opinion and his supervision over the placement time had been supportive but she also knew that Bronski was sensitive to the way that the captain treated Detective Baxter. The two of them had known each other a l
ong time. It was also true that the employment contract might not have been offered had the regional team not agreed to fund part of it. She assumed this morning’s meeting would provide some detail.

  As she took her first bite of cake, she thought back to her decision to take up the employment contract. The downside had been her mother’s reaction. Margaret Macpherson had not said much but Annie could tell she was disappointed. In her mother’s view, Annie’s home in England was already too far from the family home in Scotland. Now she was on another continent for a year. Annie had to admit it was a decision she had come to with some reluctance. It was simply an opportunity too good to miss. It also meant that she would have more time with Dave Ellison. They had grown much closer in the past three months and Annie hoped they had a long-term future.

  ‘So tell me about this case,’ Bronski said.

  Ellison answered. ‘Domestic violence, one of the worst I’ve seen. The victim, Amanda Kennerley, is lucky to be alive.’

  ‘I recognise that name. Isn’t her husband the managing director of Kennerley and Son Construction?’

  ‘Yeah and he’s missing. We’ve got a patrol officer outside her hospital room and an alert out for him. He’s not been seen since late last night. A neighbour heard the disturbance and telephoned it in as soon as she saw him leave.’

  ‘Can’t imagine he’ll get far. Brett Kennerley’s face is well known from his advertising billboards and TV commercials. In fact, you wonder why a guy like that risks getting negative exposure. Hasn’t this happened before and she wouldn’t press charges?’

  ‘Yeah, always some story to explain away the injuries. This time it won’t wash. The injuries are too severe for an accident.’

  Chapter 3

  As Ellison was filling in the report on Amanda Kennerley, Annie used the time to review the notes from her previous involvement with the regional team. Together with detectives from different parts of Connecticut, she had been seconded to them part-time before Christmas, as one of several liaison officers. The regional squad had been dealing with the aftermath of past child sexual abuse, which had come to light after the priest, Father Bannister, had been murdered. Annie had worked the Bannister case with Ellison and Bronski. She guessed that the impending meeting would be related to that liaison role.