Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

If there was ever any doubt about Psycho Steven being connected to Steve Noakes, Finn was given conclusive proof on Thursday afternoon.

Although it wasn’t his case and Walsh had told him to butt out on a number of occasions, he couldn’t let things lie. Casey was too important and he didn’t trust Walsh or Corrigan to do their job properly. That was why he made time between jobs to pay a visit to Saffron Pollard’s parents.

Lucy Sheldon could be linked to Steve Noakes, which meant Saffron had to be too. He didn’t believe she was simply a random victim.

Leslie and Doreen West lived just off the ring road in the Mile Cross estate in a house that appeared to have been attacked by gnomes. They were everywhere from what Finn could see and he counted at least half a dozen in the tiny front garden, while another larger gnome wearing a blue hat and green trousers sat on the front porch, holding a sign that welcomed him to the house.

He rang the doorbell, listened to the over-the-top chime, and wondered what the hell he was getting himself into. He had never met Saffron’s parents, their daughter had been enough, but he had heard about them from Vicky.

As it turned out, Leslie West wasn’t home, however, Doreen was quick to welcome him in as soon as she realised who he was, and Finn didn’t miss that she had been dry-eyed and cheerful until the moment he mentioned Saffron’s name. Then the waterworks had started.

She ushered him through into the living room. This one contained more gnome-like ornaments on the mantel, alongside a large framed picture of Saffron with her parents, and a couple of large vases filled with flowers that he suspected had been sent in sympathy. While Doreen made tea, he glanced through the numerous condolence cards that filled every surface, and tried to ignore the cloying sickly-sweet perfume-type scent that clung to the air, from the lilies in the bouquets, he assumed.

‘I didn’t know if you would be hungry, too, so I’ve brought through a selection of biscuits.’

Doreen fussed about, setting down a tray with two fancy-looking cups of tea and a saucer-size chintzy plate containing chocolate biscuits and, what were those? Custard creams?

She hadn’t asked Finn why he was there, simply seeming eager to get him inside once he had shown her his ID.

‘They are the proper biscuits,’ she told him proudly, settling herself down in one of the two armchairs, leaving the sofa to Finn. ‘McVities. DC Corrigan likes the custard creams. He told me they’re his favourite.’

Why was it not a surprise that a gormless work-shy prick like Mike Corrigan would prioritise biscuits over police work?

Finn thanked her, but ignored the biscuits, taking the cup of tea and sitting down on the sofa. He was fairly certain Doreen West had brushed her hair and put a little bit of lipstick on while she had been through in the kitchen. Her eyes were now dry again and she seemed thrilled that he had stopped by.

He remembered back to what Vicky had said, that Doreen was more interested in being on the television than about her dead daughter. While Finn couldn’t relate to that, he soon learnt that it did mean she had a loose tongue, and it seemed she was more than happy to talk, willingly providing him with information, which is how he found out about the connection.

Doreen had been in full flow, telling him all about Saffron’s promising future, barely pausing for breath, when she said something that had him stopping in his tracks, actually halting her conversation as he interrupted her.

‘Sorry, you said Saffron what?’

‘The trial,’ Doreen repeated. ‘It was such a big responsibility for her sitting on that jury. Such a big case.’

‘Saffron was a juror in the Steve Noakes trial?’

‘Yes.’ Doreen seemed a little impatient, as if he should already know this and she was waiting for him to catch up, wanting to get back to her story. ‘DC Walsh and DC Corrigan already know all this.’

And had kept it to themselves. Damn it!

Finn got that he was sticking his nose in, understood that Walsh was pissed off with him, but they knew he was involved with Casey. They should have damn well told him.

Psycho Steven was going after people directly connected to Steve Noakes. A juror, a reporter who had unfavourably covered him in the news and who had then gone on to cash in on his notoriety, and there was no doubt in Finn’s mind that Casey would be a target.

He might be playing games and calling her radio show, but he would have an end goal. And Finn couldn’t see any way that it didn’t involve Casey.

Making his excuses, he left Doreen West’s house, heading back out to his car. It was Walsh’s case, but Finn was seeing red, and in the heat of the moment he called up the detective, telling him exactly what he thought about him holding back on the Saffron Pollard link.

The conversation didn’t go well. He didn’t miss the smirky note in Walsh’s tone as he reiterated yet again that Finn was overstepping boundaries, reminding him that he was not required to share any information about the case.

Finn had then hung up on him, knew he would be getting another bollocking from his sergeant for sticking his nose into Walsh’s case, but honestly, at this point he didn’t care.

The bad mood stuck with him through the rest of the day and after finishing work he went over to see his parents, feeling a little lighter when he saw his mother was looking more her usual self.

Brenda Murphy had been released from hospital, the doctors saying she had been lucky, but it had still shaken them all, reminding Finn and his sister, Niamh, of their parents’ mortality and how things could change in the blink of an eye.

Work and family had taken up all of his time over the last couple of days, meaning he hadn’t been able to spend any of it with Casey. He had left her in his bed on Wednesday morning, but other than a couple of phone calls and a handful of texts, he hadn’t actually seen her since then.

Of course that wasn’t completely a bad thing, as it gave her a little space, but the truth was, long term he wanted more. He just needed to figure out a way to convince Casey that she did too. She was jittery with relationships and he understood that, and he knew it would take time and patience to make her realise that not every family was wired like Noakes’s.

However, Doreen West’s revelation about her daughter changed things. As far as Finn was concerned, Casey was now a target for whoever had been calling the radio station and he intended to stick to her like glue to ensure she stayed safe.

He had lost her once and had no intention of letting her get away again.

Casey ended up taking the whole week off from her radio show.

She had spoken with Justin again and he had seemed keen for her to stay home, having completely changed his tune to earlier in the week, and she got the impression that he was now viewing her as a problem that he didn’t want to have to deal with. Meanwhile, it seemed that Jade Armitage had managed to get her feet comfortably under Casey’s desk.

Although that was a concern, reminding Casey just how expendable her radio show was, she hoped that by removing herself from the situation, Psycho Steven might stop, or at the very least, pause his murderous spree.

Wishful thinking, she knew that, just as she was aware she couldn’t avoid her radio show forever, but after the horror of seeing Lucy Sheldon hanging from a tree, she just needed a few days away from everything.

By the time Thursday evening rolled around, she had finished the job she was working on and was craving company. Since leaving Finn’s the previous morning, the only people she had seen were Zoe, Ricky and her creepy neighbour, Rupert, and the only time she had left her apartment was to take Phoebe out.

Finn had been quiet, but she knew he was busy with work and also had family commitments, his mother having been released from hospital and now back home. Time apart from him was probably a good thing. Psycho Steven’s reign of terror had pulled them closer together and Casey was worried about giving Finn the wrong impression. She had told him she didn’t want a relationship, but wasn’t sure if that message had got through.

A little breathing space was exactly what they both needed.

As she switched off her MacBook, deciding she would take Phoebe out for a long walk, her phone pinged and she glanced at the WhatsApp message from Ricky, moaning about his lodger.

Casey decided to leave replying for now. She was still annoyed with him about yesterday and intended to address that with him before moving on. Ricky could wait until she was back. She knew he would have seen the ticks turn blue, maybe when he didn’t get an immediate response it would make him consider.

She clipped on Phoebe’s lead, spent a couple of hours walking along by the river then into the village itself, enjoying seeing a few faces, even if it was only to say a passing hello to.

It had been wall-to-wall sunshine for weeks now, making it one of the hottest Julys on record, but dark clouds loomed overhead as she made her way back to Kimberley House, suggesting that rain was on the way.

She spotted Finn’s car in the car park to the side of the big house and glanced at her watch, surprised to see it was already gone seven, and she realised she had been out longer than intended. She toyed with knocking on his door, wanting to check he was okay, but reminded herself it probably wasn’t a good move. It was best not to encourage him or give him the wrong idea.

Instead she went upstairs to her apartment, fed Phoebe and had a quick shower. As she was drying herself, another message pinged on her phone. It was Ricky again.

Are you still mad at me? xx

She contemplated her answer. No, she wasn’t happy and wanted to make that clear, but likewise, she wasn’t someone who kept up grudges. She sent a message back.

Yes, I am, but we’re okay. I will just remember never to trust you with a secret again. X

She threw her phone down on the bed. As she had no plans to go out again, she slipped on a pair of loose cotton sleep shorts and a vest top, ran a brush through her hair, tying it back in a low loose knot, then went through to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine.

Despite the humidity of the evening, the sky had really darkened and the sound of heavy rain was pelting the balcony through the open French doors. Casey glanced at the floor outside, considered closing them, but it was so warm in her apartment. Deciding to leave them open, she poked her head in the fridge, considering her dinner options, startling when Phoebe began barking at a knock on the door.

Finn.

Although she wasn’t expecting him, she knew he was home, and besides, who else could it be? Ignoring the flutter in her belly, telling herself that it wasn’t that she was particularly bothered about seeing him, but it would be good to catch up with any news he may have on the investigation, she went to the door, checked through the peephole that it was him, before letting him in.

His gaze skimmed over her appreciatively, a lazy smile on his face, and Casey’s skin heated. She hadn’t thought about her skimpy outfit or her lack of bra before answering the door. Not that it should matter, as he had seen everything already, but still, there was something seductive, sinful almost, in the way he undressed her with his eyes.

‘Hey.’

Her lips curved. ‘Hey.’ She could see he was tired, his face a shade too pale, faint lines around his eyes. Casey knew it was the last day of his four-day shift, plus of course, he had been dealing with family worries. Still, he looked good. Heat in those deep-blue eyes and his dark hair dishevelled like he had been raking his fingers through it. ‘How’s your mum?’

‘She’s doing okay. Glad to be home.’

‘That’s good.’

He kicked the door closed behind him, took a step closer, eyes never leaving hers. ‘I’ve missed you.’

He said the words like he really meant them, as though she was precious to him, and anxiety and lust kicked together in Casey’s belly. She laughed nervously. ‘It’s only been a day.’

‘Two.’ He backed her up against the counter with his body and the way he looked at her, the emotions rolling off him, she knew it was more than just a casual sex thing to him. That scared the shit out of her. ‘I like what you’re wearing.’

‘What, old PJs? I wasn’t expecting company.’ She kept her tone light, tried not to react when his arms slipped around her, hands roaming down her back and cupping her arse cheeks.

‘Old PJs work for me. You’re not wearing a bra.’

‘Very observant, Detective. And you’re being pedantic. It hasn’t been that long.’

‘You smell really nice too.’ He nuzzled her neck, hands slipping lower onto the back of her bare thighs, lifting her up onto the worktop, and Casey tried to ease herself out of his embrace. It wasn’t easy, though, and the butterflies fluttered up a storm in her belly as Finn’s mouth found hers, pulling her under with a hot and hungry kiss that completely derailed her train of thought.

‘I was trying to decide what to have for dinner before you showed up and started pawing at me,’ she half-heartedly grumbled when he eventually came up for air. Although he eased back to grin at her, his crooked eye tooth giving his handsome face a perfectly imperfect edge, his hands were still working magic, slipping underneath her vest top and cupping her breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles around her nipples, making it difficult to concentrate as little licks of fire burned through her.

‘I know what I fancy for dinner.’

‘You have a one-track mind.’

‘Well, it’s your fault.’

‘My fault?’

‘You shouldn’t have answered the door wearing something so… distracting.’

‘We should talk. You need to update me. Walsh is keeping me in the dark.’

‘We can do that later.’

‘Finn!’

He arched a brow, thumbs still tracing that lazy pattern, and turning her insides to liquid. ‘Do you want me to stop?’

Casey made the mistake of pausing.

‘I didn’t think so,’ he confirmed, kissing her again as he eased her out of the vest. ‘Look, we’ll talk in a bit. We can cook some food and you can tell me what you’ve been up to and I’ll update you on what I know, but right this second I need this and I need you. Is that okay?’

He sounded so earnest, desperate even, and he had been dealing with a lot she realised; his family, work, worrying about her. She had noticed how tired he looked when she had answered the door.

A low rumble of thunder crackled through the open doors, the rain falling harder, and the air was thick with humidity and tension as he waited for her answer. She could give him this; distract him for a bit, she decided. Just because she enjoyed it, just because he made her feel things, it didn’t have to be serious. It was just two people enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t mean she was falling for him.

Locking herself around him and holding him close, she brushed her lips against his.

‘Okay.’