Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (33/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (33/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 2184 (this part); (48,450 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30
Part 31 Part 32
“You’re up early,” Ray yawned, padding into his kitchen.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Sam replied without emotion, flipping through a deck of cards. “Found these on your coffee table,” he added for explanation.
“Whatever,” Ray shrugged, searching his refrigerator for anything remotely edible.
“What we doing today?” Sam asked as he sorted the cards by suit.
“I have Cartwright looking through the plonk department’s records. See if there were anyone named Lydia.”
“So, it’s Lydia now. Not Linda?”
“It’s summat,” he sighed, pulling out a few eggs he thought were alright.
“Then what?”
“Then we’re going to track her down and ask about Stu.”
“What if she’s dead?”
“Then we’ll find someone who knew her and ask them.”
“Like an...investigation.”
“Yes, Tyler. Like a bloody investigation.”
“A real investigation.”
Ray turned and watched as Sam carefully put all the clubs in order - two through ace.
“You eat eggs, right?” he asked.
“Thorough...investigative...process,” Sam pronounced carefully as he stacked the clubs neatly and moved onto the diamonds.
“That’ll be a yes, then,” Ray pulled out a semi-clean pan and began warming it on the stove. It wasn’t until Sam had finished organizing the diamonds and moved onto the spades that either of them spoke again.
“Who’s she?” Ray asked nonchalantly as he scraped the eggs around the pan, allowing curiosity to get the better of him.
“Linda?”
“No,” Ray hesitated. “You, uhm, the person you see. Last night you said ‘she’ was laughing at you and in hospital...”
Ray heard Sam’s chair scrape backwards and listened to his footsteps pad out of the room and up the stairs. Ray hadn’t expected an answer anyway. Some minutes later, as he was downing his eggs and toast, Sam returned to the room, fully dressed. Sitting down at the table, he immediately picked up where he left off with the playing cards.
“Want some?” Ray asked, pointing to the leftover eggs in the pan.
“I need to eat,” Sam replied, and Ray started to rise from his chair. “No,” Sam shouted. “I’ll do it...myself.” Sam took a deep breath, pushed himself away from the table, and walked to the stove. Ray concentrated on his own food while Sam cursed and mumbled at the eggs and the plate he was trying to put them on. Just when Ray considered it a lost cause, Sam flopped back down at the table, the drippy mess and a bit of bread set on the plate in front of him.
“You need to go shopping,” he said with a scowl.
“Get me some money and I will. You want a fork?”
Sam looked on either side of the plate, suddenly realizing he hadn’t grabbed any cutlery. Elbows on the table, he dropped his head to his hands with a curse.
“I’ll get it. Was getting up anyhow.” Ray cleared his plate, dumping it in the sink, then chucked a fork next to Sam’s left elbow. “Better eat quick. Nearly ten and Cartwright was getting to the station at eight. She’ll have found summat soon.”
“Gene,” Sam stated as he lifted his head and grabbed the fork with his left hand before switching it to his right.
“Well, eventually. If this Lydia exists...”
“No. Gene...he had my money. Took care of it. I didn’t...don’t...have a bank account. Don’t know what he did with it,” Sam stuck a bit of egg on the end of his fork, nibbled it, set the fork down, and focused on the bread instead.
Suddenly, the phone rang, which was extraordinarily lucky for Ray since he had no idea how to respond to Sam. One of the reasons why they had suspected the Guv of being kidnapped, instead of doing a runner, was because his money had been left untouched - both his joint account with Vera and the secret stash Ray knew he had. To know now that Gene had access to Tyler’s money cleared up part of the suspicion Ray still had over the Guv going to find this “niece.” Maybe Tyler had lent it to Gene anyway, but just couldn’t remember. The phone was still ringing.
“Hello?...Yeah...He’s fine....Really? Blimey, Cartwright. That’s close to real detective work...Hold on...Let me grab a pen.” Ray let the phone dangle from the wall as he grabbed a slip of paper and a pen from the counter next to the fridge. “Alright. Go ahead....Huh-uh...Right....We’ll let you know what he find.”
Ray hung up the phone and slipped the newly written note in his pocket. Sam had since pushed the food away and returned to the deck of cards.
“Annie found us a name - Lydia Wheeler. Was a WPC from ‘62 to ‘66. Last known address is in the city. Ain’t far from here. You ready to go?”
“Why not,” Sam sighed sullenly and carefully set the cards aside.
“Cheerful bastard, aren’t you,” Ray mumbled and went out to start the car.
*
“Now...just...act normal, alright?” Ray advised as they climbed out of the car.
“As opposed to what?” Sam slammed his door shut.
“You know...all...crazy, like.”
“Can’t promise anything. Sometimes it just hits.”
Ray turned his head and noticed that though Tyler had his hands stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders slouched, and his head low, the git was smirking.
“Wanker,” he muttered. Sam just kept smirking as they walked across the pavement to what was once, and hopefully still was, Lydia Wheeler’s front door. Ray knocked loudly and briskly, and together they waited for the door to crack open. When it did, a lovely woman, probably in her late twenties, with brown hair and blue eyes stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a old towel.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Lydia Wheeler?” Sam beat Ray to the punch.
“Aye. What’s this concerning?” she asked suspiciously.
“My name’s Detective Inspector Tyler and this...” Sam reached into his pocket, searching for his warrant card. When he couldn’t find it, he became increasingly frustrated and entirely forgot about the woman he had been addressing.
“Detective Sergeant Carling. Ray,” he smiled, flashing his badge and elbowing Sam in the ribs.
“Ow,” he hissed. Ray had forgotten Tyler was still bruised from his attack a few nights before.
“We’re investigating an unfortunate incident and were hoping we could take a minute of your time.”
“Oh. Well. I guess. Alright. Come in, then. Would you like some tea?”
“That’d be lovely,” Ray nodded and followed her inside. Sam stayed on the front step, still searching his pockets. “C’mon. In,” Ray ordered.
“Where’s my warrant card?” he asked in frustration.
“You had to hand it over, remember?”
Sam paused, titled his head to the side, then let out a heavy sigh.
“Oh. Right,” he pouted.
“It don’t matter, alright? Now. In ‘fore I drag you in.”
Sam finally shuffled inside and Ray shut the door behind him.
“Everything alright?” Lydia called from what Ray assumed was the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am. Cheers.”
They followed the sound of her voice, but she popped into the corridor, finding them first.
“Sitting room’s just over here. I’ll be out in a minute with your tea.”
Ray and Sam settled themselves in the moderate, but clean room.
“Not bad,” Ray nodded.
“When can I get my warrant card back?” Sam asked.
“You’re not. This ain’t permanent, remember?”
“Oh.” Sam slumped in his seat and picked at his finger.
“Did you take your pills today?” Ray suddenly remembered. Sam didn’t respond. “Shit.”
“So, gentlemen,” Lydia smiled, setting the tea tray on the table in front of them. “What’s this all about, then?”
Ray put aside his sudden revelation and focused on the task at hand.
“We’re reopening an old case. Unsolved, like. And thought you might be able to help with some of...the uhm...”
“Details,” Sam spoke up.
“Right. The details. You were a plo--” (Sam coughed and interrupted him), “A WPC in the Sixties, is that right?”
“Yes,” Lydia smiled, clutching her teacup gently. To Ray, she seemed perfectly at ease. “For a few years. Decided it wasn’t for me. Took a job as a secretary in one of the mills nearby. Where I met me fiance,” she smiled brightly.
“Lovely,” Ray smiled. “So, when you did work at the station, do you remember meeting anyone named Stu?”
“Stu?” she repeated. “No. No I don’t think so.”
“Last name Hunt?”
“Well,” she laughed. “The only Hunt I know was that boorish bloke up in CID. Took over for Mr. Woolf sometime before I left. Is he still there?” she asked, giddy as a schoolgirl.
“Aye,” Ray nodded. “So, the name Stu Hunt. It doesn’t ring any bells?”
“I’m afraid not detective. Was he a copper?”
“No. He would’ve been a...” Ray struggled to find the right word.
“Detainee,” Sam said for him.
“Right. A detainee.”
“Oh, I don’t remember much of those. Best not to keep the scum in mind, you know?” She shrugged and sipped her tea. “Is it alright? Would you like some sugar or...”
“Oh no. It’s lovely,” Ray smiled, and in fact it was. He hadn’t had this fine a cuppa since Cartwright made detective.
“Do you have any children Miss Wheeler?” Sam asked. Lydia quickly set her cup on the saucer.
“Oh no. How could I? Stephen and I aren’t even married. Not till next month. We’re not even living together yet. This is me parents’ house. But they’re away on holiday. Spain. Can’t get enough of the sunshine, them.”
“Well, times are changing,” Sam sighed, looking around the room in what seemed to be an absentminded manner.
“Don’t insult the lady,” Ray scolded.
“It’s alright detective. Your Inspector is right. Things are different, but not in this family. My parents would never allow it.”
“Strict are they?” Ray asked with a laugh. “Mine were the same way. Me sister couldn’t even see a boy unless he went three rounds with me dad. And only then it were under supervision. Don’t think she and me brother-in-law spent a moment alone until their wedding day.”
“Yes,” Lydia smiled, and Ray could see the nerves now. “Mine are the same. I’m so glad they like Stephen.” The relief was evident in her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, gentlemen.”
“Who’s that?”
Sam was staring at a picture above the fireplace. And Cartwright had yelled at him about tact?
“Those are my parents. Oh, that’s such an old picture. Years ago.”
“No,” Sam shook his head and rose from the settee, heading for the photograph. “Girl. That girl. Who is she?”
Ray watched Lydia carefully. She had looked away from the fireplace and was rubbing a hand across the back of her neck.
“Oh. You must mean my sister.”
“Look the same age,” Sam commented, again tilting his head to the side.
“We are. Twins,” Lydia looked down into her teacup. “Heavens, I forgot the biscuits. Would you gentlemen care for any? I think we have some Garibaldi’s...”
“What’s your sister’s name?” Ray asked, using his kindest tone.
“Does she have something to do with your enquiry or are you just being nosy? I know how you detectives are.”
“It may have to do with our enquiry,” Ray told her solemnly. Lydia looked away, then back into her teacup.
“Linda. Her name is Linda.”
“Lydia, when you were a WPC, did your sister get herself into some trouble? Did you try to help her?”
Lydia quickly rose from her chair, her eyes still locked on the floor.
“I would very much like it if you would leave now, sirs. Please.”
“I know this is upsetting,” Ray slowly rose from the settee. “But it is very important, Miss Wheeler. A child’s life...”
“A child?” she gasped. “The baby?” Lydia lowered herself back onto the couch.
“Your sister did have a child,” Ray confirmed.
“Linda...Linda was always getting herself into trouble. Just to make Daddy angry. Then she went too far. I tried to help her, but...”
“But she’d waited too long.”
“Daddy said if she gave it up, then she could come home. They’d forget all about it.”
“But she didn’t.”
“Only because he told her she could. That’s how Linda always was.”
“Did you ever see the baby?”
“Only the once. When she was born.”
“She?” Ray asked.
“Yes. She. A little girl.”
“What happened to your sister, Lydia?”
“She left. Just...left. Haven’t heard from her in years. Don’t even know...”
“Thank you for your time,” Sam suddenly cut in. “We’re sorry we’ve upset you.” He hurried out of the room.
“Tyler!” Ray called out, but Sam didn’t stop. “Thank you, miss,” he nodded and ran after him. When Ray made it outside, Tyler had just reached the car and was throwing himself inside. Ray followed him and slid into the driver’s seat. Sam was folded over, his hands behind his head.
“What the bloody hell was that about?”
“Sorry...I...I...just...” Sam shook his head. “I was...nervous.”
“Why? We were getting the answers we needed.”
“I don’t...I don’t know. It was...it’s been awhile. Awhile...since you know. Sometimes...it just hits.”
“’S why you take your bloody pills,” Ray huffed as he started the car.
“Sorry.”
“Whatever.”
Author: dak
Word Count: 2184 (this part); (48,450 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30
Part 31 Part 32
“You’re up early,” Ray yawned, padding into his kitchen.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Sam replied without emotion, flipping through a deck of cards. “Found these on your coffee table,” he added for explanation.
“Whatever,” Ray shrugged, searching his refrigerator for anything remotely edible.
“What we doing today?” Sam asked as he sorted the cards by suit.
“I have Cartwright looking through the plonk department’s records. See if there were anyone named Lydia.”
“So, it’s Lydia now. Not Linda?”
“It’s summat,” he sighed, pulling out a few eggs he thought were alright.
“Then what?”
“Then we’re going to track her down and ask about Stu.”
“What if she’s dead?”
“Then we’ll find someone who knew her and ask them.”
“Like an...investigation.”
“Yes, Tyler. Like a bloody investigation.”
“A real investigation.”
Ray turned and watched as Sam carefully put all the clubs in order - two through ace.
“You eat eggs, right?” he asked.
“Thorough...investigative...process,” Sam pronounced carefully as he stacked the clubs neatly and moved onto the diamonds.
“That’ll be a yes, then,” Ray pulled out a semi-clean pan and began warming it on the stove. It wasn’t until Sam had finished organizing the diamonds and moved onto the spades that either of them spoke again.
“Who’s she?” Ray asked nonchalantly as he scraped the eggs around the pan, allowing curiosity to get the better of him.
“Linda?”
“No,” Ray hesitated. “You, uhm, the person you see. Last night you said ‘she’ was laughing at you and in hospital...”
Ray heard Sam’s chair scrape backwards and listened to his footsteps pad out of the room and up the stairs. Ray hadn’t expected an answer anyway. Some minutes later, as he was downing his eggs and toast, Sam returned to the room, fully dressed. Sitting down at the table, he immediately picked up where he left off with the playing cards.
“Want some?” Ray asked, pointing to the leftover eggs in the pan.
“I need to eat,” Sam replied, and Ray started to rise from his chair. “No,” Sam shouted. “I’ll do it...myself.” Sam took a deep breath, pushed himself away from the table, and walked to the stove. Ray concentrated on his own food while Sam cursed and mumbled at the eggs and the plate he was trying to put them on. Just when Ray considered it a lost cause, Sam flopped back down at the table, the drippy mess and a bit of bread set on the plate in front of him.
“You need to go shopping,” he said with a scowl.
“Get me some money and I will. You want a fork?”
Sam looked on either side of the plate, suddenly realizing he hadn’t grabbed any cutlery. Elbows on the table, he dropped his head to his hands with a curse.
“I’ll get it. Was getting up anyhow.” Ray cleared his plate, dumping it in the sink, then chucked a fork next to Sam’s left elbow. “Better eat quick. Nearly ten and Cartwright was getting to the station at eight. She’ll have found summat soon.”
“Gene,” Sam stated as he lifted his head and grabbed the fork with his left hand before switching it to his right.
“Well, eventually. If this Lydia exists...”
“No. Gene...he had my money. Took care of it. I didn’t...don’t...have a bank account. Don’t know what he did with it,” Sam stuck a bit of egg on the end of his fork, nibbled it, set the fork down, and focused on the bread instead.
Suddenly, the phone rang, which was extraordinarily lucky for Ray since he had no idea how to respond to Sam. One of the reasons why they had suspected the Guv of being kidnapped, instead of doing a runner, was because his money had been left untouched - both his joint account with Vera and the secret stash Ray knew he had. To know now that Gene had access to Tyler’s money cleared up part of the suspicion Ray still had over the Guv going to find this “niece.” Maybe Tyler had lent it to Gene anyway, but just couldn’t remember. The phone was still ringing.
“Hello?...Yeah...He’s fine....Really? Blimey, Cartwright. That’s close to real detective work...Hold on...Let me grab a pen.” Ray let the phone dangle from the wall as he grabbed a slip of paper and a pen from the counter next to the fridge. “Alright. Go ahead....Huh-uh...Right....We’ll let you know what he find.”
Ray hung up the phone and slipped the newly written note in his pocket. Sam had since pushed the food away and returned to the deck of cards.
“Annie found us a name - Lydia Wheeler. Was a WPC from ‘62 to ‘66. Last known address is in the city. Ain’t far from here. You ready to go?”
“Why not,” Sam sighed sullenly and carefully set the cards aside.
“Cheerful bastard, aren’t you,” Ray mumbled and went out to start the car.
*
“Now...just...act normal, alright?” Ray advised as they climbed out of the car.
“As opposed to what?” Sam slammed his door shut.
“You know...all...crazy, like.”
“Can’t promise anything. Sometimes it just hits.”
Ray turned his head and noticed that though Tyler had his hands stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders slouched, and his head low, the git was smirking.
“Wanker,” he muttered. Sam just kept smirking as they walked across the pavement to what was once, and hopefully still was, Lydia Wheeler’s front door. Ray knocked loudly and briskly, and together they waited for the door to crack open. When it did, a lovely woman, probably in her late twenties, with brown hair and blue eyes stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a old towel.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Lydia Wheeler?” Sam beat Ray to the punch.
“Aye. What’s this concerning?” she asked suspiciously.
“My name’s Detective Inspector Tyler and this...” Sam reached into his pocket, searching for his warrant card. When he couldn’t find it, he became increasingly frustrated and entirely forgot about the woman he had been addressing.
“Detective Sergeant Carling. Ray,” he smiled, flashing his badge and elbowing Sam in the ribs.
“Ow,” he hissed. Ray had forgotten Tyler was still bruised from his attack a few nights before.
“We’re investigating an unfortunate incident and were hoping we could take a minute of your time.”
“Oh. Well. I guess. Alright. Come in, then. Would you like some tea?”
“That’d be lovely,” Ray nodded and followed her inside. Sam stayed on the front step, still searching his pockets. “C’mon. In,” Ray ordered.
“Where’s my warrant card?” he asked in frustration.
“You had to hand it over, remember?”
Sam paused, titled his head to the side, then let out a heavy sigh.
“Oh. Right,” he pouted.
“It don’t matter, alright? Now. In ‘fore I drag you in.”
Sam finally shuffled inside and Ray shut the door behind him.
“Everything alright?” Lydia called from what Ray assumed was the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am. Cheers.”
They followed the sound of her voice, but she popped into the corridor, finding them first.
“Sitting room’s just over here. I’ll be out in a minute with your tea.”
Ray and Sam settled themselves in the moderate, but clean room.
“Not bad,” Ray nodded.
“When can I get my warrant card back?” Sam asked.
“You’re not. This ain’t permanent, remember?”
“Oh.” Sam slumped in his seat and picked at his finger.
“Did you take your pills today?” Ray suddenly remembered. Sam didn’t respond. “Shit.”
“So, gentlemen,” Lydia smiled, setting the tea tray on the table in front of them. “What’s this all about, then?”
Ray put aside his sudden revelation and focused on the task at hand.
“We’re reopening an old case. Unsolved, like. And thought you might be able to help with some of...the uhm...”
“Details,” Sam spoke up.
“Right. The details. You were a plo--” (Sam coughed and interrupted him), “A WPC in the Sixties, is that right?”
“Yes,” Lydia smiled, clutching her teacup gently. To Ray, she seemed perfectly at ease. “For a few years. Decided it wasn’t for me. Took a job as a secretary in one of the mills nearby. Where I met me fiance,” she smiled brightly.
“Lovely,” Ray smiled. “So, when you did work at the station, do you remember meeting anyone named Stu?”
“Stu?” she repeated. “No. No I don’t think so.”
“Last name Hunt?”
“Well,” she laughed. “The only Hunt I know was that boorish bloke up in CID. Took over for Mr. Woolf sometime before I left. Is he still there?” she asked, giddy as a schoolgirl.
“Aye,” Ray nodded. “So, the name Stu Hunt. It doesn’t ring any bells?”
“I’m afraid not detective. Was he a copper?”
“No. He would’ve been a...” Ray struggled to find the right word.
“Detainee,” Sam said for him.
“Right. A detainee.”
“Oh, I don’t remember much of those. Best not to keep the scum in mind, you know?” She shrugged and sipped her tea. “Is it alright? Would you like some sugar or...”
“Oh no. It’s lovely,” Ray smiled, and in fact it was. He hadn’t had this fine a cuppa since Cartwright made detective.
“Do you have any children Miss Wheeler?” Sam asked. Lydia quickly set her cup on the saucer.
“Oh no. How could I? Stephen and I aren’t even married. Not till next month. We’re not even living together yet. This is me parents’ house. But they’re away on holiday. Spain. Can’t get enough of the sunshine, them.”
“Well, times are changing,” Sam sighed, looking around the room in what seemed to be an absentminded manner.
“Don’t insult the lady,” Ray scolded.
“It’s alright detective. Your Inspector is right. Things are different, but not in this family. My parents would never allow it.”
“Strict are they?” Ray asked with a laugh. “Mine were the same way. Me sister couldn’t even see a boy unless he went three rounds with me dad. And only then it were under supervision. Don’t think she and me brother-in-law spent a moment alone until their wedding day.”
“Yes,” Lydia smiled, and Ray could see the nerves now. “Mine are the same. I’m so glad they like Stephen.” The relief was evident in her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, gentlemen.”
“Who’s that?”
Sam was staring at a picture above the fireplace. And Cartwright had yelled at him about tact?
“Those are my parents. Oh, that’s such an old picture. Years ago.”
“No,” Sam shook his head and rose from the settee, heading for the photograph. “Girl. That girl. Who is she?”
Ray watched Lydia carefully. She had looked away from the fireplace and was rubbing a hand across the back of her neck.
“Oh. You must mean my sister.”
“Look the same age,” Sam commented, again tilting his head to the side.
“We are. Twins,” Lydia looked down into her teacup. “Heavens, I forgot the biscuits. Would you gentlemen care for any? I think we have some Garibaldi’s...”
“What’s your sister’s name?” Ray asked, using his kindest tone.
“Does she have something to do with your enquiry or are you just being nosy? I know how you detectives are.”
“It may have to do with our enquiry,” Ray told her solemnly. Lydia looked away, then back into her teacup.
“Linda. Her name is Linda.”
“Lydia, when you were a WPC, did your sister get herself into some trouble? Did you try to help her?”
Lydia quickly rose from her chair, her eyes still locked on the floor.
“I would very much like it if you would leave now, sirs. Please.”
“I know this is upsetting,” Ray slowly rose from the settee. “But it is very important, Miss Wheeler. A child’s life...”
“A child?” she gasped. “The baby?” Lydia lowered herself back onto the couch.
“Your sister did have a child,” Ray confirmed.
“Linda...Linda was always getting herself into trouble. Just to make Daddy angry. Then she went too far. I tried to help her, but...”
“But she’d waited too long.”
“Daddy said if she gave it up, then she could come home. They’d forget all about it.”
“But she didn’t.”
“Only because he told her she could. That’s how Linda always was.”
“Did you ever see the baby?”
“Only the once. When she was born.”
“She?” Ray asked.
“Yes. She. A little girl.”
“What happened to your sister, Lydia?”
“She left. Just...left. Haven’t heard from her in years. Don’t even know...”
“Thank you for your time,” Sam suddenly cut in. “We’re sorry we’ve upset you.” He hurried out of the room.
“Tyler!” Ray called out, but Sam didn’t stop. “Thank you, miss,” he nodded and ran after him. When Ray made it outside, Tyler had just reached the car and was throwing himself inside. Ray followed him and slid into the driver’s seat. Sam was folded over, his hands behind his head.
“What the bloody hell was that about?”
“Sorry...I...I...just...” Sam shook his head. “I was...nervous.”
“Why? We were getting the answers we needed.”
“I don’t...I don’t know. It was...it’s been awhile. Awhile...since you know. Sometimes...it just hits.”
“’S why you take your bloody pills,” Ray huffed as he started the car.
“Sorry.”
“Whatever.”