Of that there is no doubt. Has never been any doubt. I would do anything to prove my love.
Swiftly and decisively, I bring the hammer down.
ONE
‘You sure you’re ready for this?’ Woody asked, peering over his glasses.
Her back was ramrod straight and her hands rested in her lap. She was the picture of control, and in the last two months she’d learned that appearances were everything.
‘Sir, my psych eval—’
‘I’m not talking about your meetings with the force psychologist. I have their report and you wouldn’t be sitting in my office if they hadn’t deemed you fit for duty. I’m asking you.’
‘I’m good, sir. Keen and eager to return to my duties.’
He peered at her for another few seconds. She held his gaze.
Was he wondering how she had passed the psych evaluation?
It hadn’t been hard.
Kim had known from the minute she walked away from the cemetery after apprehending Symes that it would be far harder to repair her mind than her body. Being beaten to a pulp by one of her old enemies had left deeper scars on her psyche than it had on her flesh. She had known that the physical part of her recovery would take at least eight weeks. The broken bones had mended and most of the pins had been removed, all but one in her right hip that was now with her for life. There had been nothing easy about her rehabilitation, but the focus on mending her body had distracted her from the thoughts in her mind.
She had planned her psychological recovery with the same diligence and had divided her recovery up into four two-week periods, to successfully stage her psychological recovery.
At two psych appointments per week she’d spent the first four appointments talking about the nightmares that plagued her. She’d done her research and offered variations on typical PTSD after-effects. Not once had she divulged the true nature of the night terrors.
The second quarter she’d spent telling the therapist what she’d wanted to hear about how frightened she’d been. By the third quarter, the nightmares were lessening and she was seeing family and friends again. She was walking Barney almost daily and chatting with other dog walkers. By the fourth quarter, the nightmares were rare and she was feeling like her old self much of the time.
It was complete bullshit, but the therapist had swallowed it and patted himself on the back for a job well done.
She was signed out of therapy two days before the medical doctor declared her physically fit enough to return to work.
The nightmares were still there, and the truth about her well-being would never leave the inside of her mouth. It was her battle to fight and no one else could help her. She’d always sorted her problems on her own and in her own time.
‘Have you been in touch with anybody?’ Woody asked.
She shook her head.
The messages from her team had gone unanswered. Bryant had been more persistent; knocking on her door at least once a week, with some home-cooked offering from Jenny. She’d simply turned up the music and ignored him until he went away.
She’d felt a twinge of guilt watching him walk down the path, but she didn’t have the energy to spend assuring people she was okay, especially the people who knew her best.
‘I assume you know who has been running the team in your absence?’
Her jaw clenched in response.
‘Brierley Hill had a restructure leaving them a DI spare, and we had a space.’ He opened his hands expressively.
She understood. To the powers above it was a simple numbers game. Surplus here, a gap there. Perfect. It would have been if not for the part he’d played in the Symes investigation.
‘I know you won’t ask but my response is that the team has been chugging along.’
She nodded her understanding. There had been nothing major and he’d been keeping the team warm.
‘Keep him around for as long as you need to. Ease in gently and stick to desk duties for the next week or two. You’re not—’
‘Are we done, sir?’ she asked, standing.