so, but neither of them was bothered about hurrying to catch up. Instead, they dawdled as they waited for Lauren.
‘Or a magic portal. If there was, we could sneak back and watch everyone else coming in.’ Courtney laughed.
‘Or Doctor Who’s TARDIS!’ Caitlin laughed back.
In front of them, their teacher beckoned them to hurry up as he disappeared around a corner, but still they went at their own pace. They had run this lane many times during their five years at Dunwood Academy. There was nothing to see but a high hedge either side, a space for one car to drive past at a time, which was why it was safe for students to run down, as not many drivers used it.
Ahead of them the twins could see the roof of the school buildings, the railings around it coming into view opposite a row of council bungalows for the elderly.
‘Where’s Lauren?’ Courtney shivered as a gust of wind came up the lane. ‘We’ll be in trouble if we’re not back soon.’
‘I thought she was behind us.’ Caitlin swivelled round, but they were on their own.
‘She can’t have got very far, Cait,’ Courtney told her sister. ‘I bet she’s found a quicker way back and has left us.’
‘She’d better let us in on it if she has.’
They carried on for a few more steps and then Courtney stopped again.
‘We should go back for her.’
‘But we’ll get into trouble if we don’t finish soon.’
‘She should have caught up by now. It will only take a minute.’
With a heavy sigh, Caitlin followed her sister. They ran towards where they’d last seen Lauren, across the field and around the corner of trees.
Not noticing that her sister had stopped, Caitlin almost bumped into the back of her.
Courtney was pointing at a figure lying in the grass. ‘There’s something wrong.’
‘What do you mean?’
Caitlin followed behind her as they ran to their friend. The wind picking up across the open ground was the only thing they could hear. They drew level, their eyes widening with fear. Lauren was lying on her back, her blonde hair fanned out around her head.
‘She’s having us on, isn’t she?’ Caitlin said.
‘I don’t know,’ Courtney whispered. ‘Lauren?’
She prodded Lauren’s leg gently with her toes. Maybe that would make Lauren giggle if she was winding them up. But she didn’t move.
‘Lauren?’ Caitlin dropped to her knees. ‘Are you okay?’
It was then she noticed the glazed look in her friend’s eyes.
Leaving her home in Manchester hadn’t been as gut-wrenching as DS Grace Allendale had thought it was going to be. It had been more of a relief as she’d closed the door for the final time and handed the keys in at the estate agent’s. The house had begun to depress her. It never seemed to remind her of what she’d had, only of what she had lost. Starting afresh was what she’d needed.
Moving back to her hometown of Stoke-on-Trent had turned out in her favour, too. Despite her first case being personal, she’d settled into life at Bethesda Police Station. She was getting to know everyone eight months on, as well as the good and the bad of the area.
Stoke-on-Trent was a city of two halves in every meaning of the term. There were beautiful areas of vast countryside alongside barren inner-city areas that had been set for regeneration and then forgotten about. Abandoned factories of years gone by close to others that flourished, staying in the game by welcoming visitors and embracing social media coverage. It had several large housing estates owned by the city council and lanes with affluent property owners, their gardens stretching to acres. Empty shops in local towns sat next to family firms that had been in business for decades. Rough alongside smooth: wealth alongside poverty.
Grace never went with the adage that the wealthy were any better than the ones scraping around for pennies. She firmly believed there were shades of polite and ugly in every level of society. She’d seen compassion from a drug user at the lowest ebb of his life; she’d seen injuries of domestic abuse caused by a high-ranking politician. So much went on behind closed doors regardless of class.
Arriving back from a meeting with Allie Shenton, a colleague who oversaw six local community intelligence teams, she felt a buzz of activity as soon as she opened the door to the office where her team was located. Her phone went off and she slipped a hand inside her jacket pocket to retrieve it. It was her boss, DI Nick Carter.
Grace could see him sitting in his office. She raised her hand to show him she was here as she walked across to him. Something must have come in while she’d been out. Adrenaline began to pump through her, as had become natural.
‘We’ve had a call of a suspicious death at Dunwood Academy, over in Norton,’ Nick told her. ‘Female, sixteen years of age. Out on a cross-country run, got left behind. First thoughts were she’d had some kind of seizure. Two pupils found her; one ran to get help. By the time their teacher got to her, bruising had started to appear around her neck.’
Grace pulled a face. ‘Do they suspect foul play from anyone there? The teachers, or the pupils?’
‘I’m not sure. Can you task someone with getting everything ready here and then we can go in five?’
‘Will do.’ She headed back to her desk.
Perry Wright, one of two detective constables on her team, was sitting opposite her.
‘I’ve grabbed a pool car, Sarge,’ he said as she approached.
Grace nodded her appreciation. ‘Sam, are you okay setting up the incident room for us, please?’
‘Sure thing.’ DC Sam Markham nodded.
Since she’d first arrived at the station, Grace had learned that the staff in her team had jobs they preferred. Wanting to be in the thick of it all, it was usually Perry who came out to the enquiries with her. Grace liked that she had someone solid by her side. Although, while Perry was fit and bulky to Sam’s small and nimble, Sam could still pull a suspect down in a rugby tackle whenever necessary. At thirty-eight, she was two years older than Grace, and she came into her own as office manager: sorting things out, getting the details down, doing the minute things that could make or break a case. It worked, and Grace hadn’t felt a need to change things.
‘Tell me about the school,’ Grace said to Perry as he drove them north to the scene of the crime. She relied on her team for their local knowledge, even though she was learning the different patches and area.
‘Dunwood Academy? A bit of a dive before government intervention. Certain kids were always getting into trouble and the school was underperforming on grades. But it’s doing much better at the moment. Plus, it’s on the edge of the Bennett Estate.’
‘Ah.’
