Page 72 of Their Burning Graves
‘Not really, well kind of, I need to do some searches and double check some stuff. What happened with Heather?’
‘Bailed pending further enquiries, or until we can figure out what the hell happened.’
Amy stood up. ‘Come on then, Cain, let’s get an early start.’
‘Where are you two going?’
Cain stood up, crossed to Morgan’s desk eyeing up her latte. ‘I always thought we were good friends yet here you are, two days on the run getting a coffee without me. I’m hurt, Morgan.’
‘I didn’t know if anyone was in yet, I’m sorry. Anyway, I brought you McDonald’s yesterday, so there you go.’
He bent down and pecked her cheek. ‘My bad, yes you did. You’re forgiven. Amy is taking me to the hospital to get statements from Luke Rigg and Maggie Wilkes, if they’re up to it.’
‘Say hi to Maggie for me and tell her Roley is fine and being looked after by Heather, please.’
He nodded. Morgan wished she was going to see Maggie, but she’d go after work.
Ben also stood up. ‘I’ve got a morning meeting followed by the monthly command meeting, let me know if you need me for anything though, Morgan. I’ll be glad of an excuse to not go to either.’
And then there was one, she was on her own before she’d even had chance to discuss her theories with Ben, or Amy and Cain. She logged on to the computer. She should have said something. If she found anything on here, she would go and get Ben out of his meetings.
After first searching for ‘Jackie Thorpe’, she got nothing, so she typed in ‘Erica James’. It always surprised Morgan how many people shared the same name as the list of them appeared on the screen, with passport-sized photos next to the name. Erica James was there, sixth picture down, her face smudged with trails of mascara, glassy eyes swollen with tears and a deep cut above her right eyebrow that would probably have left a scar. She closed her eyes as she pictured Natalie, remembering that she had a small scar above her eyebrow. She’d noticed it when her hair was scraped back into a ponytail. Next to her name it said Vehicular Manslaughter and OPL – over the prescribed limit, police speak for drink-driving. She was so young, she looked nothing like Natalie White, with her short brown hair and hazel-coloured eyes. That didn’t mean it wasn’t her though, cosmetic surgery, expensive hair colour and extensions, coloured contacts, it was relatively easy to change your appearance especially for a woman. Morgan enlarged the photograph, sending it to the printer. She would ask Natalie later if she was Erica James. She began to read the information all about the tragic incident. It was truly horrific, the Thorpes didn’t stand a chance. It had been a warm day and a glorious summer’s evening according to the report. They had been out riding their bicycles when a drunken Erica James had left her friend’s eighteenth birthday party and got into her car. She told the officer who was first on scene that she’d been upset because she’d caught her boyfriend cheating on her, and had been crying so much, she never even saw the couple on their bikes before she ploughed into them. Panicking she had pressed the accelerator instead of the brake and had mown them down. Morgan shuddered, it was too horrific to contemplate, what an awful, painful way to die. She opened another report where she found mention of the Thorpes’s child – Jackie Thorpe, nine years old and with no living relatives to take care of her, was put into foster care with the Pearsons.
Morgan sat back, she needed to speak to the social worker who had dealt with the case. She smiled because at least she knew where to find Angela Hardy, as she’d been to her house before, when she’d been trying to figure out her own childhood. Morgan knew that Angela wouldn’t answer her phone to an unknown number, so she would have to go and see her in person. She picked up the printout of Erica James’s photo and old address. If she needed to, she could also try and speak to Erica’s parents, if they were still living there, to confirm her identity. There was nothing else on file for Erica, so she must have kept out of trouble when she was released. She desperately wanted to confront Natalie White, but knew that she needed proof before doing so. Natalie could deny it as much as she wanted but if she had spoken with her parents first, they could confirm her identity. She was on the right track, she knew it.
Morgan drove to Brantfell Road, parking opposite the cottage with the pink front door, which now had a vibrant summer wreath on it. Morgan loved it. As much as black was her go-to colour, pink was her next favourite. She wondered if Ben would let her paint his front door pink. This made her smile; he’d probably say yes even if he hated it because he always tried to make her happy. She crossed the road, hoping that Angela was in, and knocked on the door with her fingers crossed behind her back. She heard footsteps and smiled as the door opened a little bit.
Angela peered over her glasses and proclaimed, ‘Morgan, what a surprise, how are you? Come inside.’
The door wide open, she stepped into Angela’s quaint cottage and gazed at her cropped, pastel pink hair.
‘I’m good thanks, how are you, Angela? I love your hair, it’s amazing.’
‘Thank you, I’m pretty good, although is that about to change?’
Morgan laughed. ‘I hope not, I’m just after some information about a child you placed with a family back in 1991.’
‘Nineteen ninety-one, would that be Jackie Thorpe?’
‘How did you know?’
‘There weren’t many kids that had to be put in foster care in 1991, and Jackie always stuck in my mind. It was tragic what happened to her parents, a terrible shame for everyone, so many lives ruined that night.’
Morgan took a seat on the sofa, a velvet fuchsia pink sofa; this house was full of pink and white, it gave off such a happy vibe. She would quite happily move in tomorrow, if Ben got fed up with her.
‘I was reading the reports, it’s so sad, the poor little girl must have been devastated.’
‘She was, such a quiet thing as well. She never really spoke much after that; I can’t even imagine how hard it was for her. She was placed with Mr and Mrs Pearson. They were an older couple who genuinely were lovely people and quite often stepped in at short notice when we had an emergency. No children of their own, but they had quite strong religious beliefs. They took a shine to Jackie, and she stayed with them. Nancy was a Sunday school teacher, and her husband was a vicar.’
Morgan felt everything slide into place in slow motion. Taking out her phone she found the screenshot she had of Sally, and passed the phone to Angela.
‘Did you know Sally Lawson?’
‘Is this Sally?’ She took her phone from her and held it close to her face. ‘Hard to say, she looks vaguely familiar but not enough that I can place her. Why?’
‘She was murdered along with her entire family, and I’m trying to find out the motive.’
Angela gasped so loud it filled the room. ‘Oh my God, that’s the family that were killed. I saw the headlines, but I didn’t read them. It’s too sad and scary.’
