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“Ah, you’re on our list of contacts. So you were both working at the pub alongside Maddie last night, is that right?”

The two dazed men nodded.

“Did you see Maddie talking to anyone in particular at the bar?”

“She’s a bloody barmaid! That’s kind of in the job description. Chat up the punters, flirt a little, and hopefully, get them to spend more,” Trent replied sharply.

“Really? I thought their main aim was to serve the customers—it was when I first started out. I used to work part-time behind the bar at my local when I was eighteen. Are you telling me that things have altered now?”

Trent shrugged. “The full-timers are encouraged to go the extra mile, if you like, while the rest of us serve and move on to the next one.”

That news totally surprised and appalled Sally. Is that the way every pub works? Uses its bar staff as some kind of prostitute? “Maddie was a full-timer then?”

“Yep. She was really nice, too. Why would anyone kill her?”

“We’re trying to ascertain that, but unless you guys can enlighten us about what went on last night, our job is going to be impossible. Please think—was there a stranger sitting at the bar, engaging in conversation with her?”

The two men looked at each other. “I didn’t notice. Did you?” Trent asked Wayne.

“Nope. We were too busy making arrangements for the party afterwards. She turned us down at the start of our shift, and we didn’t try to bug her into changing her mind.” Wayne ran a hand through his dishevelled hair.

“Great! We know there aren’t any cameras at the pub, which is a shame. Okay, let’s try another avenue. Have either of you noticed a stranger perhaps arriving at the bar and talking to Maddie on any other occasion, say in the last week or so?”

Both men shook their heads. Then Trent said, “We didn’t have any reason to be on the lookout for anyone. Why should we? Murders just don’t happen around here, do they?”

“Actually, a fair few do. They just never hit the headlines,” Sally said. “What about Maddie’s ex? Did he used to frequent the pub?”

Trent shrugged. “Maybe once or twice, when they first started going out, not so much lately. He took to dipping his end into some other pussy while she was working at the pub.”

Sally cringed at the man’s vulgar interpretation. “Thanks for putting that so eloquently. He’s on our list of people to question.”

Trent’s cheeks turned pink. “Sorry, just telling it how it is, lady.”

“Inspector!” Jack reminded Trent.

Sally smiled at her partner, thanking him for his gallant behaviour. He never let her down there. Thinking there was no point questioning the two men any longer, Sally decided to end the meeting swiftly. “Well, if nothing is coming to mind, then we’ll leave you guys in peace and get on. Here’s my card. If you think of anything, no matter how insignificant you think it might be, ring me, okay?”

“Will do. Hope you find the bastard who did it,” Trent said, showing Sally and Jack to the front door. “Can I ask how she was murdered?”

“No, you can’t. We don’t divulge details until after we’ve held a press conference. Does it matter?”

Trent shrugged. “Not really. I just hate the thought of her suffering.”

“I see. Well, that’s one thing we’ve yet to have confirmed by the pathologist. I can tell you this, though, her death wasn’t pretty, and we believe the crime might have been sexually motivated.”

“Shit! Poor Maddie. She didn’t deserve that.”

“No person does, Mr. Trent. Have a good think about the customers you saw at the pub last night and get back to me if anything crops up, okay?” Sally prompted the man for the last time before she left the house with her partner.

CHAPTER FIVE

The rest of the week turned out to be murder-free, nevertheless uber-frustrating for Sally and her enthusiastic team as they waited impatiently for the DNA results to come through from the pathology lab. They had managed to track down and question Maddie’s ex-fiancé, who seemed so genuinely traumatised by Maddie’s death that Sally had no alternative but to cross him off the suspect list. Returning to both pubs to question staff and numerous customers had been a fruitless exercise, too.

“Why don’t people take an interest in what goes on around them anymore?” Sally complained, shuffling papers in her office just before six o’clock struck.

“Too self-absorbed maybe. I don’t know. What have you got planned for the weekend? Still unpacking?” Jack asked.

“Nope, that’s all done now. Believe it or not, I’m going on the Broads with my parents. Over the last few months, Dad’s fixed up the cruiser, and this will be the first time it has been fit for use this year. Should be a relaxing weekend, I hope.”

Jack shook his head and shuddered. “Dry land for me all the way. Can’t be dealing with all that rocking on the ocean lark.”

Sally laughed. “Idiot. It’s as calm as a millpond on the Broads. The only dicey part is Braydon Water. Now that stretch of water can get really choppy if the weather is bad. You should try relaxing on the boats one day. The kids would love it.”

He stood up and placed his hands on the back of the chair. “My girls are into the three Ms.”

Sally narrowed her eyes. “Which are?”

“Music, make-up, and causing mayhem. Welcome to my world and what lies ahead of me this weekend.”

Sally chortled. Standing, she slipped on her jacket and reached for her handbag before following Jack out of the office. “And that, my dear friend, is why I don’t intend having children. My life is stressful enough during the week here without having to deal with teenage tantrums at the weekend, too.”

“Thankfully, Diane has a few years to go before she reaches thirteen. Teresa is certainly revelling in her role, though. I sometimes think life was far easier back in Afghanistan.” Jack tutted.

Sally punched the top of his arm. “Go on with you, Bullet. You don’t mean that really,” she said, playfully using the nickname his army colleagues had granted him. The Taliban had shot him on four separate occasions during his final mission.

“Seriously, give me a battle against the Taliban any day of the week, rather than thrashing it out with Teresa about some of the stupid outfits she tries to sneak out in.”

“Ah, the battle of wills. You should know by now that we girls will win every time on that one.”

“Yeah, you’d think I would’ve learned that by now, eh? And don’t even get me started on that boyfriend of hers!”

Sally laughed loudly. “I bet Donna’s parents felt the same way about you when you guys first started dating.”

He placed a hand to his chest and looked hurt. “What? I was the bloody model boyfriend right from day one.”

“Yeah, I bet you went rapidly downhill after that, though.”

Jack shook his head vehemently and grunted his disapproval of her insensitive comment. “No way. To this day, they still insist I was the best boyfriend to ever grace their front doorstep. And there were many, so I’ve been told, frequently!”

“Oh dear, not quite what you’d want to hear them say about your adoring wife, I’m sure.” Sally chuckled.

Jack held the door for Sally at the exit of the main building. “Hardly. Their intentions were good, I suppose. Have a great weekend. See you Monday.”

“I hope it doesn’t prove to be too traumatic for you, love.” Sally opened the car door and hopped in. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the overnight bag she had quickly packed the evening before was still sitting on the backseat. After placing a Rod Stewart CD in the player, she set off for her parents’ house. She sang along to the disc when We Are Sailing filled the interior.

Her mother was in the driveway of her parents’ terraced home when Sally arrived. “Hey, Mum. Are you almost ready to set off?”

“Hello, dear. Almost there. Your father is just securing the place now. You know what he’s like.”