Page 65 of Twisted Lies
Vincent HRD in Stevenage had been renowned for their design innovation, engineering excellence and high performance, but that wasn’t the reason she’d been on the lookout for this particular frame. It was the bike her foster father had always dreamed of restoring.
Tracking down genuine parts to put it back to its former glory was not going to be easy, but if she wanted easy she’d have chosen a much more popular model, where the spare parts were plentiful.
‘And where’s the fun in that?’ she asked Barney as he plonked himself beside her.
She stroked his head and reached for the wire wool. He looked at her dolefully. ‘Oh, all right then,’ she said, dropping the wire wool and stroking him some more. His tail swished over the sheet as she leaned down and rubbed both hands all over his head and around his collar. He stretched his neck to accommodate her.
When she was sure she’d scratched every inch of his neck, she gave him a final stroke of the head and reached for the frame.
She started rubbing gently at the larger rust spots that were stuck to the metal like barnacles. She was careful not to remove every spot, not wishing to completely destroy its history.
This was her therapy. This was her happy place. Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 playing softly behind her as she brushed a piece of metal lightly and chose between rust spots.
The phone ringing startled her. She reached for it and was even more surprised to see the person calling was Penn.
‘Hey,’ she answered.
‘Sorry to disturb you, boss, but I just did a log check before bed and saw something you might want to know about.’
Checking the incident logs last thing was something they all did, to see if anything had happened that could be related to their current case. But if it was anything serious, she would have received a call.
‘Go on.’
‘It’s Frost, boss. She was involved in a hit-and-run earlier tonight. Rear-ended at the bottom of Pedmore Road.’
‘Is she okay?’
‘Ambo was called and she was taken to Russells Hall Hospital. No major injuries.’
‘Okay, Penn, thanks,’ she said, ending the call.
Normally, she’d put any car accident involving Frost down to the reporter herself. Kim had seen the way she drove the Audi TT, but if it was rear-end damage, even Frost wouldn’t deliberately reverse at speed into the front of someone’s car. And people didn’t flee the scene of an accident if they had nothing to hide.
She reached for her phone, her first instinct being to check that Frost was okay. No major injuries, Penn had said. She was probably already on her way home.
‘Not our business, is it, boy?’ she asked, putting down the phone and retrieving the wire wool.
Barney raised his head.
‘She’s as hard as nails, matey – she’ll be fine.’
Barney stared at her.
‘What? She’s not my problem, so quit staring at me.’
She waited for him to lower his head back onto his furry paws.
He didn’t.
‘Jesus, what are you, my conscience?’ she asked, reaching for her phone again.
She scrolled through her contacts and hit the ‘Call’ button. The phone rang out continually, and Kim was about to give up when Frost’s voice sounded on the line.
‘As if my head ain’t hurting enough. What do you want?’
Kim felt the corners of her mouth lift up. She wasn’t seriously hurt.
‘What you been up to and who’ve you pissed off now?’
