Page 86 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

Aaron dropped his foot from his knee and sat forward, and Jack looked at him for a moment before turning back to Kenny. A silent nod. A shared understanding.

“If thisishim, then Middleton is reenacting his trauma,” Kenny said. “But with himself in the position of power. It’s a psychological reversal of his victimhood. By killing these women, he’s flipping his narrative. Taking control of a story where he had none.”

Jack rubbed his chin, brow furrowing. “You think he’s doing this for revenge?”

Kenny shook his head. “It’s more than revenge. It’s about supremacy. Survivors of extreme abuse often experience profound feelings of helplessness. In some cases, those feelings manifest as a need to dominate their past, to rewrite their own history. Middleton isn’t just lashing out. He’s creating a scenario where he wins.”

“Wins what?” Jack peered over the file. Definitely on board now.

“The game,” Aaron said, as if to himself.

“Yeah.” Kenny nodded. “He’s reimagining what happened in that house as a game of power. Or maybe they told him whilst he was there they were playing a game with him. He’s still playing. Proving, to himself and to his tormentors, that he doesn’t need what they took from him. He can reign supreme. Be champion. Over them. Over what they did to him. He’s playing them at their own game. And found the perfect way to kill without detection. And guess who he wants to know that?”

Aaron inhaled. “Child A.”

“Roisin,” Kenny interjected.

“But the only evidence we have to prove this theory,” Jack threw the file back on the coffee table, “is a lip balm. I can get the team to look into Peter Middleton, find him, and question him. But I’m going to need something more than a hunch and a tube of lip salve which anyone can buy.”

“Come by the shop,” Aaron said.

Jack looked at him. “What?”

“Tomorrow.” Aaron leant forward, examining the photo of Carly’s last moment. “Wednesdays. He comes in on Wednesdays.”

Kenny raised his eyebrows at Jack. It wasn’t a bad plan.

“I can’t arrest a man for buying a lip balm.”

“No, but you can question him,” Kenny said. “It’s a link. Tenuous, yes. But it’s a link. Then you can observe him. Put a team on him. See how he responds to the questions.”

Jack sighed. “The chief won’t let me pull resources on a hunch. We need something concrete.”

“Trap him,” Kenny said.

Jack gave him a sceptical look. “And how do you propose I do that?”

“Do what they did when he was thirteen. Lure him out.”

“How?” Jack folded his arms.

“You give him what he wants.”

“And what does he want?”

Fraser entered the living room then, balancing a tray with a teapot and cups. “Who was it who wanted the tea?”

Aaron raised a finger in the air. It wasn’t for the tea, though, but to answer Jack’s question.

Trouble was, it wasn’t Aaron who Middleton was after.

It was someone far, far worse.

* * * *

The ride home was thick with silence.

Aaron stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur into streaks of gold. He couldn’t tell if Kenny was even aware of him anymore. His focus was somewhere far away, brow furrowed, lips set in a line Aaron recognised as the look he wore when he was deep in thought.

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