A Velvet Scream by Priscilla Masters Page A

just couldn’t. He would be both puzzled and hurt. And yet as she saw him rounding the top of the stairs, already dressed in casual trousers and a sweater, she had the feeling that he did know and to some extent understood.
    He reached the bottom step, his eyes warming her. ‘Jo?’
    She managed a smile which didn’t fool him for a second. In two bounds he was folding her into his arms. ‘Jo,’ he said, stroking her hair as though she was a cat or a pony. ‘Hey.’ He tilted her mouth up to meet his. ‘Am I so very scary?’
    Looking into those warm green eyes, beautifully crinkled around the corners from smiling so often, feeling his mouth both hard and soft on hers, the touch of his arms around her, she felt really silly. How on earth could she possibly doubt that she and Matthew loved each other, that their life together would be anything but happy?
    He was waiting for her response. She nestled against him, feeling the power of his arms around her and challenged him. ‘Don’t you think that making a commitment for the rest of our lives is just a little bit scary?’
    He held her tighter then. ‘Yes and no.’ Then: ‘We’ll talk tonight. There really isn’t the time now.’ He kissed her again. ‘Have a good day, darling. I’ll see you later.’
    She left in a fidget of nerves which only steadied as she reached Leek police station and pulled into her parking slot. She could not wait for the spring and to get back on her bike. That was one way to banish the spectres and ghosts raised by peering too far into the future. She sat for a moment, reflecting until she saw Mike Korpanski’s burly shape disappear into the station. When, with a sigh, she finally moved.
    By the time she reached her office Korpanski was already yawning into his computer screen. She hung her coat up. ‘Late night, Mike?’
    He barely looked up. ‘Jossie was being sick all night, poor kid. I hardly got a wink of sleep.’ He yawned again and rubbed his eyes.
    â€˜Poor Mike,’ she sympathized and couldn’t resist a quick dig. ‘That’s what comes of having children.’
    â€˜She’s hardly a child, Jo. She’s growing up faster than she should. But last night  . . .’ His face softened. ‘She seemed a little girl again. Just wanted her daddy.’ He looked pleased with himself. Smug as he basked in the adoration of his “little girl”. Something Kayleigh Harrison had missed out on.
    â€˜Come on, sentimentalist,’ she said. ‘I suppose that means I’d better make the coffee this morning.’
    â€˜Thanks. You wait,’ he called after her. ‘It’ll happen to you one day and then you’ll be the sentimental mother.’
    â€˜I don’t think so,’ she said to the coffee machine.
    As she handed him his Styrofoam cup he asked her what the plan was for today.
    â€˜I thought we’d track down Steve Shand’s little party of men on the pull,’ she said. ‘One, two, three, four.’ She held her fingers up. ‘Also, I want to talk to Kayleigh’s mother again and then I suppose we really should visit young Kayleigh herself. But after the bunch of “mates”. We’ll start with Shaun Hennessey, the guy who was celebrating his big three-o.’
    There was a swift briefing where Danny Hesketh-Brown related his findings. ‘Basically, Jo,’ he said, ‘I drew a blank. Neither of Peter Harrison’s friends appear to have seen him since he left Leek twelve years ago.’
    â€˜Really?’
    â€˜Well – as Mr Ollerenshaw pointed out – their big hobby was fishing. Without that they didn’t have a lot to share so I suppose it makes sense.’
    â€˜OK. What did they say about young Kayleigh? Did they know if she had any contact with her father?’
    Hesketh-Brown made a face. ‘They wouldn’t know if she