Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

Lucy will die when winter meets summer which, unless you can save her. She is no saint, but tonight she will pray. Find her or it will be your cross to bear.

Casey stared at the words she had written down as she waited for Finn to arrive, trying to figure out what the hell the clues meant.

Had the song Steven picked been simply because his victim was called Lucy or was there a clue in the title? She jotted down the words sky and diamonds just in case.

Lucy will die when winter meets summer which, unless you can save her.

When winter meets summer would surely be spring. It was July, so they were already in the middle of summer. She wrote spring down anyway. She is no saint, but tonight she will pray. Both saint and pray suggested a church, as did cross.

Was that where he had taken her? To a church? There were hundreds of churches in Norfolk alone and it was possible Psycho Steven had taken her out of the county, as he did with Saffron Pollard. Lucy could be anywhere.

Casey thought back to the riddle she had been given for Saffron. It had been impossible to solve. But then that was probably the point. Steven didn’t want her to find his victims in time. Yes, he wanted to taunt her and pretend she had a chance, but he didn’t intend for her to actually save them. Instead, he wanted to make her feel guilty, so she blamed herself for their deaths.

Why was he doing this? It had to somehow be connected to Steve Noakes. It wasn’t just the shared name. In his first phone call, Steven had mentioned about Casey saving them all. It had to be a direct reference to Amanda Haines. Was this an act of revenge because she had helped put Noakes behind bars?

It wasn’t Gareth. Casey knew her ex-boyfriend had killed himself two years after the trial. The guilt of dealing with that had been part of the reason why she had gone to the trauma group.

That left Julie and Gareth’s younger brother, Ethan. What would Ethan now be? About twenty-six, twenty-seven? Was he looking to avenge his dad and brother?

No, she wouldn’t even go there. Ethan Noakes had been a sweet kid, whose life had been totally screwed up by the actions of his sick father. It was unfair to blame him and Julie for what was happening now. They had been innocent victims in all of this.

Julie was back in Norwich, though, and the timing of Casey bumping into her just before Saffron Pollard’s murder was a little coincidental. But if Julie or Ethan were behind this, why would they target an innocent woman? Saffron hadn’t done anything to either of them. Why not come directly after Casey if they wanted revenge?

Saffron’s murderer was far more likely to be a sicko unconnected to Noakes. The trial had been huge and the case well known. It wouldn’t have taken much digging for someone to find out who Casey was. That was probably why she was being targeted. Psycho Steven was some random who thought it would be fun to mess with her.

And now he had Lucy and the riddle suggested she was in a church. Saint, pray and cross all pointed to that. But which one? Was the clue in sky or diamond?

She was scrolling through Google looking at churches in East Anglia when Finn texted to say he was outside. Casey asked him to wait for a couple of minutes, chatting to her listeners and setting a couple of tracks to play back-to-back before going through to let him in.

As he followed her back into the studio he was cursing Walsh and Corrigan, still unhappy that they had left her by herself, the annoyance rolling off him in waves.

‘They didn’t leave me completely alone,’ Casey pointed out. ‘There’s a couple of officers in a car outside keeping an eye on things.’

‘I know. I just spoke to them, but that’s not the point. Someone should be in the studio with you. Walsh can be a real dick at times.’

Casey could imagine. She hadn’t warmed to Walsh or Corrigan, though she didn’t say that. Finn sounded like he didn’t need any further ammunition. ‘I don’t think he’s a fan of you either,’ she instead commented drily.

Phoebe got up from the sofa, where she had settled herself following the two detectives’ departure, and wandered over to see Finn, her tail wagging.

‘He’s not. We’ve clashed before,’ he told Casey, as he bent down to make a fuss of the dog, scratching behind her ears. ‘We used to work together and I told him he was a lazy twat on more than one occasion. Then we both went up for the same position and I beat him. He really didn’t like that. God knows why MIT ever took him.’

Which would perhaps explain why Walsh had been so annoyed when he found out Casey had been texting Finn. ‘So is he your superior now?’

‘No. We’re the same rank, but we’re different departments and this is their investigation, so they get to call the shots. He doesn’t like me poking my nose in. I wouldn’t appreciate it either if it was our investigation.’

‘But you’re still going to poke your nose in anyway.’

‘Yeah, I am.’ Finn finally cracked a smile as he stood back up, hooking an arm around her waist and tugging her close so he could kiss the tip of her nose. ‘I’m not going to sit back while this sick arsehole plays games with you, so Walsh is going to have to find a way to deal with that.’

Casey’s heart thumped and she eased out of his grip. That was a little proprietorial.

While she appreciated Finn’s concern, was grateful to him for driving over to the studio, they weren’t in a relationship and she wasn’t his responsibility.

‘I have to go back on-air, then we need to look at this riddle,’ she told him lightly. ‘Go sit down for a minute.’

It was her own fault. She had blurred those lines last night when he had shown up on her doorstep. He had looked so tired and sad, though, the worry about his mother clear on his face, and she had hated seeing him like that. Her immediate instinct had been to give comfort.

She was going to have to redefine boundaries with him, suggest keeping things more casual. It would be easier that way. It would probably suit Finn too, as she wouldn’t be cramping his bachelor lifestyle.

Right now, though, that conversation would have to wait. She had to finish her show and they needed to try and figure out where the hell Psycho Steven had taken Lucy.

Slipping on her earphones, Casey spoke with her listeners as the song that was playing drew to a close. It was tough trying to remain calm and upbeat with everything going on and she had to keep reminding herself that she was a professional and that it was her job to somehow keep her shit together.

As she chatted, her eyes were on Finn who had turned his back to her as he looked out of the dark window at the rise and fall of the sea. Broad shoulders, hands shoved in his pockets, long legs and his bum looking tight and toned in jeans. She mentally undressed him, then kicked herself.

A woman’s life was in danger and she was being distracted by a man she didn’t even want to be distracted by. So shallow, Casey.

She cut to an advert break, set up the next song. There was just over an hour of her show left. Psycho Steven had said she had until 2.30am. That gave them two-and-a-half hours to figure out where the hell this poor Lucy woman was.

Did Walsh and Corrigan have any idea where to look for her? They had been in a rush when they left, but neither of them had given any indication that they understood what the riddle meant. Surely Lucy’s best chance was to have as many people trying to find her as possible.

‘I think he has her in a church,’ she told Finn as he came over and leant against her desk. ‘Cross, saint and pray all suggest that. But the problem is, there are loads of churches in Norfolk. How do we even begin to narrow it down? Plus we don’t even know if she is still in the county.’

‘Yeah, I had already thought church.’

‘I’ve been googling them, but I can’t find any that have a connection to diamonds. There has to be a clue to which church it is. When winter meets summer would be spring. There’s a place called St Helen’s Well, sometimes known as St Helen’s Spring, down near Brandon. No church there now, but there used to be one on the site.’

‘I was thinking more along the lines of cross perhaps being in a place name. There are three words there relating to churches, but cross… or possibly saint, could be to do with the place. Stoke Holy Cross, Walpole Cross Keys, Rockland All Saints, Horsham St Faith. They all have churches.’

Casey stilled. ‘I used to live in Stoke Holy Cross. What if he has taken her there because of that connection?’

Finn was silent for a moment as he considered. ‘I’ll call Walsh.’

He left the studio to make the call and Casey tried to concentrate on her show, doing her best to ignore Finn’s raised voice out in the hallway. From the sounds of things, Walsh was annoyed again that Finn was interfering in the case.

She glanced at the clock, saw she still had forty minutes of the show left. Was it possible they had cracked Psycho Steven’s riddle and would get to Lucy in time?

An Aerosmith rock classic had just started playing when Finn stepped back into the studio, one of three tracks Casey had lined up back-to-back, and as he closed the door behind him, she slipped off her earphones and looked up expectantly. ‘What did he say?’

‘They were thinking along the same lines, too, though they’ve been looking at the saint connection instead of the cross.’

‘Are they going to go check Stoke Holy Cross Church out though? It has a direct tie to me.’

‘Yeah, he’s sending a car, though he’s not happy about it. He didn’t like that the suggestion came from me. Apparently it doesn’t matter that I’m your boyfriend. It’s his case and I need to butt out.’ Finn smiled slyly as Casey’s face flushed. ‘I didn’t realise we were official, Fallon. Bit soon, isn’t it? We’ve only slept together a couple of times.’

‘What? We’re not… he’s got the wrong idea. I just told him that to get him off my case because he didn’t want me texting you.’ Fuck! Casey was going to kill Walsh, even if that was technically what she had told him. She hadn’t realised that he would go repeating it to Finn. She was such an idiot. ‘Stop smirking at me like that!’

‘I’m not smirking, I’m smiling… at my girlfriend.’

Paul Powers’ purple stress ball sat beneath the monitor and Casey picked it up, hurled it at Finn who, to her annoyance, caught it easily. Deciding that it was easiest to just ignore him, she turned to her monitor, checked her emails.

There was nothing new, nothing from Psycho Steven.

‘He’s going to hang her, slowly suffocate her. He suffocated Saffron too.’

‘Don’t think about that. Hopefully, we have the church right, and Walsh and Corrigan will get to her before anything happens. He said you had till 2.30am, right?’

‘It’s how Steve Noakes killed his victims. I know he used the knives to torture them, but he killed them all by suffocation. I read somewhere that when he got bored of them, he got his kicks from slowly starving them of air and watching them take their last breath.’

Finn was silent as she spoke. There was no point in him telling her she was wrong. They both knew she wasn’t.

‘That’s why I’m being targeted, why he is trying to get me to save them. He knows what I saw, he knows I was one of the main witnesses on Noakes’s trial. I kept wondering if it was someone connected to Noakes trying to get revenge, but I guess it could be any sicko.’

Finn went over to her, the stress ball still in his hand. He placed it down next to the monitor, settling himself back against the desk. He was in her space again, but Casey wasn’t so bothered this time. If she was being truthful, she actually found it comforting to have him close by. Not that she intended to admit that to him.

‘My name was in the papers and it was all over the net. Anyone can find out who I am just from a few clicks. I guess the fact I’m a deejay, too, is a temptation for any idiots looking to make themselves famous.’ She laughed humourlessly. ‘Perhaps I should have picked a stage name.’

‘Maybe. Look, we’re going to figure out who he is, Casey. Just remember, none of this is your fault. You never asked for it, didn’t do anything to encourage it. Whatever he does is on him alone.’

‘I do know that. Deep down I really do know. But I guess it’s human nature to question if there is anything I could have done… could still do to save them. Will Walsh call us when he gets to the church?’

‘I asked him to, but he probably won’t. I’ll call him again before we leave.’

Casey glanced at the clock. Just under half an hour left. It was a slow crawl tonight and she was eager to get out of the studio. Though to where? She didn’t know where to look for Lucy. She had to trust the police to find the woman. So she would go back home, then what? There was no way she would be able to sleep.

She finished her show, relieved when she had signed off and began to shut everything down. Walsh hadn’t been in contact and Finn called him again, sounding irritated as they spoke. He shook his head at Casey as he ended the call. ‘She wasn’t there.’

‘Really?’ Casey was so sure they had cracked the riddle and the rush of both disappointment and panic realising that she had an hour and a half to stop a murder was overwhelming. ‘We have to find her, Finn.’

She grabbed at the piece of paper where she had jotted down the riddle, looked at the words again. Where the hell had Psycho Steven taken Lucy?

They were almost back at Coltishall when the thought struck her.

‘What if he doesn’t mean summer as in the season?’

Finn took his eyes briefly off the road to look at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What if summer is a place? Somerleyton maybe?’

He chewed on that for a moment or two. ‘There’s a church there, so yes it’s possible. Though what would the winter connection be? The two seasons have to be linked somehow.’

He was right and, frustrated, Casey went back to the drawing board. Maybe saint was the clue to the location, in which case they were screwed. There were several places with saint in the title. But then, Psycho Steven was never going to make it easy to find Lucy. He wanted to win.

‘Unless it’s not Somerleyton, but East Somerton.’

Casey glanced at Finn. ‘East Somerton? I think I’ve heard of it. Where is it exactly?’

‘Close to the coast, near Winterton-on-Sea.’

‘Lucy will die when winter meets summer.’ Casey barely breathed the words as Finn nodded.

‘Is there a church there?’

‘Yup. Two, in fact. One still standing and one in ruins. And did you know there’s a legend to the ruined church?’

‘Which is?’

‘The East Somerton Witch.’

Lucy will die when winter meets summer which.

It took a second for the penny to drop.

‘Shit, Finn. It’s witch as in broomstick, not which as in which one. That’s where he has her. It has to be.’

Finn was already indicating, taking a cut-off that led back towards the coast.

As they passed through Wroxham, he called up Walsh on hands free, swearing when his phone continually rang. Eventually the call cut and he tried again. This time it went straight to voicemail and he left a message telling the detective to call him urgently.

They were passing through Potter Heigham when Walsh called back and his voice was laced with both sarcasm and irritation when it filled the car.

‘DC Murphy. Three times in one night. You’re spoiling me.’

‘East Somerton, that’s where he has her.’

‘East Somerton?’

‘Where winter meets summer. Winterton-on-Sea and East Somerton. There’s the ruins of an old church in the woods.’

‘I know it,’ Walsh snapped.

‘Good. We’re on our way.’

‘You don’t need to be on your way. I’ll get someone to go check it out.’

‘There’s no time. We’re just six miles away. Tell them to meet us there.’

Finn ended the call as Walsh started to protest.

He glanced briefly at Casey. ‘You okay?’

‘I think so.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘Finn?’

‘Yeah?’

‘He told me I had to go alone. No police.’

He gave her a measured look. ‘That’s not happening.’

‘But what if–’

‘No what ifs. It’s not happening, Casey. There is no fucking way I am letting you walk into a dark wood by yourself to meet some psycho. We go together, okay?’

She had never heard him sound so angry, knew there was little point in arguing with him.

Instead she nodded. ‘Okay.’