Abduction in Dalgety Bay Read online

  Abduction in Dalgety Bay

  Dalgety Bay Crimes book 3

  Ramsey Sinclair

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  3. McCall

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  10. McCall

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  A Message from the Author

  Prologue

  Pools of condensation fogged up the bathroom mirror as I slicked back my unruly brunette curls by licking my palm. Inspecting my poignant appearance in the foggy reflection, it didn’t appear to have changed much, despite the healthy diet I’d been sticking to and the number of cigarettes I had surrendered to my wife. Since we’d been sticking to a healthier lifestyle, I’d expected to look a couple of years younger by now.

  Armed with a tube of shaving cream and a razor, I unknowingly held my breath and removed the stubble that had grown over the entirety of the weekend. Beginning to wipe off the leftover foam, my wife entered the bathroom. She seemed groggy and disoriented at this early hour, but smiled, nonetheless.

  “Did I wake you?” I wondered as she playfully raised an eyebrow at the towel wrapped tightly around my waist.

  “No,” she drawled and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pressing her body to my back. Planting a kiss on my damp skin, I felt my inhibitions starting to leave. “The bed felt too big without you.”

  “How am I supposed to behave when you do things like this?” I questioned fairly and flipped around to face the gorgeous, if disgruntled, woman. The sink was uncomfortable, yet I couldn’t complain.

  Her cotton pyjamas practically swamped her figure, the essence of marital bliss. We didn’t need to dress up or try hard to impress each other anymore. Being ourselves was more than thrilling.

  “I can’t help your primal instincts, Finlay. That’s something you’ll have to learn to control by yourself.” She grimaced at her own image in the looking glass and tried to fix the tousled mop of hair. “First day back jitters?”

  I gently batted her hand away from fussing and shook my head in light disagreement, unable to disguise the soft quiver in my voice. “No. Think of it as apprehension, if you must.”

  “You’re nervous,” she pointed out, though not unkindly. “For months, you’ve been begging us to let you return to the station. Now that those three months are up, you seem unsure about going back.” My wife tutted sympathetically and rubbed my bicep supportively.

  “Actually,” I interjected, “it’s perfectly natural to be uncertain. My replacement was rumoured to be one of the best they’ve had,” I folded both arms in a sulk and remembered the way McCall harped on about him over coffee.

  “Replacement being the operative word there. One of the best replacements,” she emphasised. “Kirsty was probably trying to act as though she wasn’t missing you all that much. Which as we know is absolute rubbish,” she giggled.

  “Aye,” I grinned too, for her amusement was infectious. “You could be right there.”

  Haphazardly squirting a line of minty scented paste onto my toothbrush, I scrubbed my teeth to the best of my ability, for time was quickly escaping our grasp. They were stained from the sheer volumes of tea and caffeine we consumed per day. My wife swayed on the spot, playing with the unravelling hem of her night top.

  “I’m always right,” she reminded me. “I know for a fact that you’re now healthier than your replacement, fitter from all the walking and knowledgeable from all the reading you’ve been doing. Plus,” she hesitated and threw a wild wink into her motivational speech. “You’re hotter than him.”

  Spitting the mixture of fluoride rather inconspicuously down the sink, I huffed and turned to face her again. “You haven’t met him. McCall said--”

  “I don’t have to,” she teasingly gripped the top of my towel. “We’re married for a reason. I think I’m allowed to be biased.”

  “Don’t,” I warned. “You’ll make me late, and McCall will kill me.”

  Her pink tongue wagged mockingly. “Spoilsport.”

  By the time McCall beeped her car horn aggressively outside, I’d finally managed to change into a fresh suit and shirt combination. That was a challenge by itself due to my wife’s determination to make me late.

  “Nothing changes,” I grumbled, referring to the impatient work partner that would be yelling at me to hurry up any minute soon. McCall wasn’t exactly what you would call a morning person.

  “You’ve missed it, though.” My wife raised a knowing eyebrow and set about securing my patterned tie gifted for my birthday. “I’m still astounded that you struggle to fix your own tie. Whatever did you do without me?”

  She had a gifted way of manipulating the fabric in whichever direction she chose, a feminine sort of magic. Ties didn’t cooperate in a similar fashion with the oaf-like hands I was equipped with.

  “Either managed with a wonky tie or got someone else to do it for me.” I admired the neatly placed silk that lay flat across my chest.

  “There’s a certain finesse, a knack to it.” She acted as though this was spilling a confidential secret.

  “Okay, Sharona,” I cracked a dodgy joke.

  “I iron the tie first.” She ignored it. “That way, it’s guaranteed to stay put no matter whether the material is having an off-day or not. If I left it up to you, you’d only iron the pieces of your clothes we could actually see.”

  Picking up a satchel and a knitted scarf, I didn’t disagree. “I don’t see the point of ironing a full shirt when you can only see the front part through my jacket.”

  She scoffed and handed over a neatly packed lunch. “In case you get hot and take the jacket off,” she reminded me like a child. Hence the packed lunch, I supposed. “And you do get a little bit sweaty sometimes.”

  Purposely ignoring the pointed comment, I stuck a tie clip on for good measure. “I think that’s everything. Coat, bag and--” I trailed off upon seeing her pout on purpose. “And that’s not forgetting you, of course.”

  Grinning cheesily, we engaged in a kiss full of longing and a hint of upset. For three months, I’d been home, and we practically joined at the hips. It was with sadness that I’d be working long hours again and wondering exactly when we’d have quality time to spend together.

  From the street outside, McCall’s car horn beeped impatiently, as I’d foreshadowed.

  “You’d better go,” my wife said breathlessly and detached from our tight grasp. “Have a nice day. If I find out that you’ve been smoking, I won’t be happy,” she threatened, with the full intention of punishing me.

  “I won’t,” I promised and crossed my pointer finger with the middle to prove it. “It’s been three months already. I can contain myself.”

  She seemed less than convinced. “Three months is nothing compared to the number of years you were smoking for. I know how many people enjoy a cigarette or two at your station, and the ratio is one too many. Don’t indulge.”

  We slowly stalked towards the door, deep in our exchange.

  “I’ll be fine. No smoking, and I’ll be eating plenty of healthy food.” I waved the lunchbox in the air. “I’m really goi
ng now. Otherwise, McCall won’t hesitate to beat me up. That woman has fists of steel. Take my word for it.”

  “Oh, I’ll believe it.” My wife chuckled and waved hesitantly. “I’ll be waiting to hear all about it when you get home.”

  Glancing back again, I threw a wry expression in return. “I bet you will.” With that, I escaped into the biting wind, which nipped at my toes and away from the comforts and the safety net of home. We rarely shared the normal goodbyes with each other, preferring to keep the finality vague and unsaid.

  A couple of early risers roamed the neighbourhood, keeping to their daily routines of taking their animals for a walk or kids to school. There was a normality to Dalgety Bay and its inhabitants, a kind we’d struggled to find elsewhere. Here, the air was familiar, and the salty tang in the mist felt homely. We missed this place whenever forced to stray too far away.

  McCall’s rust bucket of a car had survived thick and thin, although the exhaust spat out too many fumes for my liking. It was her pride and joy, and McCall refused to watch it be sent away to the scrap heap. At the moment, it sat rumbling away whilst McCall sat idly twiddling her thumbs in wait.

  Opening the passenger side door, I ungracefully clambered in, well aware that my wife had pulled back the netted curtains to wave goodbye to us. Even after all these years, I couldn’t help but act like an embarrassed schoolboy who had discovered his crush was staring at them.

  Complete with her shockingly ginger curls and vivid eyes of blue, McCall pretended to sip her takeaway cup of coffee as the car shook from side to side as a result of my added weight.

  “Do you realise the sorts of emissions you’re sending into the atmosphere by leaving the engine on whilst you’re waiting for me?” I fussed as I sorted out my satchel into the spare space by my feet. “Isn’t there a law against that?”

  McCall just stared and frowned. “Wow,” she eventually mustered an answer to my question. “I’m glad we’ve got you out of the house again. Any longer in there, and you’d be an unrecognisable man, going on protest marches and chanting about saving our planet.”

  “Yeah, I’ve probably watched one too many adverts on the television,” I admitted sheepishly. “They’re quite frightening, actually. Did you know that--?”

  Settling into first gear, McCall gently accelerated out of the parking space. Grey spirals of exhaust fumes rode away on the breeze.

  “I’m going to stop you right there before I start hearing too many facts about the ozone layer. Your smoking habits could have penetrated it alone,” she scoffed humorously.

  Snorting in indignation, I couldn’t deny it. “Please don’t mention that word too much. You know I’ve had to give up smoking. I’m like a junkie without the drugs, tetchy and paranoid. Life without cigarettes is a living hell. And that goes for the team too. I know they’ve lacked comedic material since the replacement arrived, and my new weight and struggle to give the habit up is something they would find to laugh about.”

  “You know what they say.” McCall smiled slyly, revealing her slightly crooked teeth. “Old habits die hard.”

  I chuckled and stared out of the window to watch the passing cars and scenery.

  “I’ll try to stop mentioning it,” she agreed kindly. “It’s just strange, getting used to seeing you not chugging on tobacco like one of those steam trains. Finally, I can breathe properly too.”

  Remembering the state of my body before my cleanse, I was glad of it. “The doctors were right. I’d rather have no cigarettes than a heart attack. I can actually walk up flights of stairs without nearly passing out anymore, and it makes a nice change.”

  “Ah.” McCall sighed in bliss, and the crappy engine spluttered in time. “I’ve missed this. It’s good to have you here again. As handsome as your replacement may have been, he was a tad too serious about some of the smaller cases. Still, our crime prevention was impeccable whilst you were gone.” McCall slyly added that, knowing it would wind me up. She made the DI sound like the best thing since sliced bread.

  “I suppose this does feel normal,” I referred to the teasing. “I’m just glad to see the back of him. I was getting nervous that the team wouldn’t want me back after his track record and notoriously good looks.”

  “Don’t worry, everyone knows you’re the original DI, and they respect you. There’s no competition regarding your areas of expertise,” she said truthfully.

  We drove on in silence for a short while, watching the headlights cut through the bout of rolling fog. Buildings loomed in the distance, towering structures of concrete and miserable bricks. It wasn’t entirely attractive, and the lack of sunlight only made everything depressing.

  “Any news for me?” McCall hinted with a sly grin and swerved around a corner.

  “News?” I screwed my face up in thought. “No? Should there be?”

  “Not necessarily.” McCall shrugged but wasn’t quite finished. “I just thought… well, you know.” She trailed off and composed her torrent of words. “You’ve had a couple of months away from work, and I presumed that you’d be bored. Extra time with the wife and all that jazz. We know what you two are like.”

  I got the gist with a gasp. “You pervert. That is… wrong, to say the least.”

  McCall immediately interrupted to save face. “No! I was just hoping that we’d see a little Finlay running around sometime soon. I want to be like those cool aunties who give them sweets and authorize late bedtimes.” She seemed to melt at the idea.

  “Nobody should actively fill a kid with sugar and additives. That would only cause all sorts of trouble. I wouldn’t let you look after my child if that’s your plan.”

  “Hey?” The corners of McCall’s mouth drooped, and she checked the wing mirrors for hidden vehicles in our blind spots. “In all seriousness, I’d be a great auntie.” Her nostrils flared defensively, and I sensed my statement had bruised her pride a wee bit.

  “I’m only being daft. Of course, you would,” I agreed softly. “But this is all entirely hypothetical.”

  She snorted in disbelief. “What? Like you haven’t thought about it?”

  “McCall,” I grunted, both cheeks blushing red from embarrassment. “This is private.”

  “Please tell me. I’ll do your paperwork for a week if you do,” she bargained.

  It was an easy choice. Everyone in the office hates paperwork.

  “Fine,” I caved. “I did think about having kids once, but it’s ridiculous and entirely insensible.”

  “Why?” she wondered innocently.

  “I work, as does the wife.” Biting my fingernail subconsciously, I fixated on the station and willed us to reach the car park quicker, certain that McCall was slowing the car down on purpose so that I had to answer her questions. “Children are extra money, and it’s another mouth to feed. If we were made redundant tomorrow, then what would happen? I’m not exactly in my prime anymore, McCall,” I huffed.

  McCall cast a beady eye over my new appearance. “You could have fooled me. None of that was a viable reason for not wanting to have children. I know you better than that, Finlay, and you act shifty when you lie, so spill the truth.” She pulled a goofy expression, having perked up from her dose of caffeine.

  As always, McCall had sussed me out.

  It went unsaid that my wife would love children, but she had never put pressure on us to perform. For that, I was eternally grateful. It was the same with most things regarding our relationship. We weren’t people who really enjoyed pressure, therefore gave each other space and freedom to progress slowly as we needed.

  “It’s not the children that are the problem.” I gave into McCall’s persuasion, a technique she’d perfected along the years. Although she was concentrating on parking between the painted white lines of a space, I knew she was listening intently. “It’s the society today that’s the problem, without meaning to sound like one of those old fogeys.”

  “You are an old fogey.” McCall chuckled, and it caught on.

  “Yo
u’re right. We are. If I’m getting lumbered with that title, then so are you, seen as we’re practically the same age,” I insisted. “We have so many people coming through the station on a daily basis. You know the types of people I mean: the murders, the rapists, and even just the common thieves. It makes me wonder if that’s the kind of world I’d want to bring a child up into.”

  Peace enveloped us when McCall cut the engine out, having successfully squeezed between two huge cars. A constant stream of locals and officers alike poured in and out from the station’s steps.

  “Finlay,” sympathy oozed out from her demeanour, “that doesn’t mean your child would have to grow up surrounded by those sorts of people.”

  “No.” I unbuckled and shifted in the creaky leather seats to face my work partner. “It does. Too many things have been taken from us due to our job, and we’ve a lot of enemies. Even you can’t deny that. It’s what this line of work does to us all. Our children couldn’t help but be connected to all of that messiness. I’d still be a DI, and they’d have to deal with what their dad does for a living. If anyone held a grudge against us, the first thing they’d use as leverage is our families.” I sighed.

  McCall nodded, and a pang of realisation hit her, too. “I suppose so. But that shouldn’t stop you from major decisions like that. I know your health scare gave you the opportunity to do some thinking, and surely a family is something you’d want in the future?”

  “Aye. I would,” I said truthfully. “It took me a while to admit that in itself, but it’s still something I’ve got to come to terms with first.”

  “What is?” McCall wondered, then drained the final remnants of her coffee as she waved to an officer outside the car who had spotted us talking.