The Truth Will Out by Jane Isaac Page A

Karen turned to face them, Helen pointed at the empty chairs in front of her, “May we?”
    She gave a reluctant shrug as they sat.
    “Difficult age,” Helen said, tilting her head towards the garden.
    “You got kids?” Karen’s tone was abrasive. She clearly felt her mothering skills were being questioned.
    “Two boys,” Helen said. “Teenagers now.”
    Karen looked genuinely surprised.
    “Why don’t you sit down?”
    Karen sat in the chair nearest the back door and eyed Pemberton suspiciously as he got out his notebook and pen. “I don’t know anything,” she said.
    “It’s fine, Karen. You have nothing to worry about. We just want to ask you some questions about Jules. Detective Pemberton here will make a few notes.”
    “I told you everything I know over the phone. I saw him last Saturday, when he dropped the kids off. He said he was going away for a while.”
    “When will he be back?”
    She shook her head. “No idea.”
    “What about contact details, a mobile phone number?”
    She shook her head again.
    “Oh, come on, Karen. Surely you must have something. What would you do if one of the boys got hurt or you needed help?”
    “Call my dad.”
    They sat in silence for a moment.
    “Does he go away a lot?”
    “Yeah. It’s his work.”
    “What kind of work?”
    Karen gave her a sharp look and twisted the silver, celtic ring on her forefinger. “He buys and sells used cars.”
    Helen let the silence linger for a while. “How long is he usually away for?”
    Karen shrugged. “Sometimes a few days, sometimes a week, sometimes longer.”
    “Where does he go?”
    “Wherever the cars are, I guess,” she looked away. “You’ll need to ask him.”
    Helen stared at her until she met her gaze. There was something uncomfortable about her. Karen twisted her ring again. The thudding music from next door had stopped. The fridge hummed in the background. Helen recalled Henry Spence’s account of Jules’ relationship with Naomi. One line stuck in her head. ‘… he started to control her, knock her about.’ She angled her head, “How long have you two been separated?”
    “Over two years now. We broke up just before Ben was born.”
    “That must have been hard.”
    Karen’s fingers worked the ring, twisting faster now. “Not really. Mum and Dad help out a lot. And Jules still comes around, takes the boys out.”
    “Was he ever violent towards you?”
    Karen snorted. “Jules?”
    “Yes.”
    “Never!” She looked from one detective to another. “Jules isn’t a bad man. Just couldn’t keep it in his pants. Even after we split he still wanted to look after me, kept buying me stuff.” She looked around the kitchen. “He didn’t want us to move here. Said it was too rough. He wanted to keep us in Hampton, in a nice house around the corner from him. But my parents live in Roxten. This is where I grew up. I know he helps, but he’s away a lot and my folks help with the boys.” She turned her gaze towards the garden. “I don’t know how I’d manage without them.”
    More silence. Helen could hear the scratch of Pemberton’s pen against the paper.
    “It’s because of her, isn’t it?” Karen said.
    “Who?”
    A shadow crept across her face. “Naomi. She was killed. I saw it on the news.”
    “What do you know about Naomi?” Helen asked.
    “Not much. Jules was seeing her for a couple of years. Bit stuck up if you ask me, but the boys liked her.” She snorted again, “Not difficult to get a toddler to like you when you buy them things and pump them full of sweets.”
    Helen smiled sympathetically. “You didn’t like her?”
    “I never said that. Only met her a couple of times.” She cast her eyes to the floor.
    “What about Jules?”
    Karen looked up sharply. “You don’t think he killed her? Is that why you’re looking for him?”
    Helen looked down to see a red mark had formed beneath the ring on Karen’s finger.
    Karen followed her eyes and tucked her hands in her