Sarah froze when the two police cars pulled up outside the school, blue lights flashing. She’d only come to watch her son Jake accept his trophy at the prize-giving. Instead, uniformed officers surrounded her daughter Lily, barking orders for her to stay where she was, hands behind her back. “Anyone else in the suspicion of the murder of Theo Silverton?
” one of them announced. People stared. Parents whispered. Lily’s face crumpled in confusion and fear.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” I said, stepping between her and the officers. “They’re making a mistake. Don’t worry. ”
But they weren’t letting it go.
They cuffed her in front of everyone. The headteacher, the kids, the mums and dads who’d been clapping for Jake’s goal-scoring award minutes earlier. My son’s proud moment was destroyed in seconds. “You wonder why people think feds are a joke,” I muttered, watching them bundle her into the car.
One of the officers, DC Kit Green, stood nearby, looking like he’d swallowed his tongue. I’d known him for years. He used to joke around with us at the station, always the one cracking the funnies. Now he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Kit, did you know about this? ” I asked, my voice low. “No, I didn’t know,” he said quickly. Too quickly.
“Well, can’t you sort it? Sarah’s not a murderer. She’s a mum. ”
He didn’t answer.
At the station, they took her to an interview room. DS Connor Swain sat across from her, sliding an evidence bag across the table. Inside was a blouse, stained dark at the collar. “Is that the blouse you wore on the day of the wedding?
” Swain asked. “Yes,” Sarah said, her voice steady. “Are you absolutely sure you didn’t go to Theo Silverton’s flat? ”
“No.
I’m sure. ”
Swain leaned forward, reading from a file. “I must ask you to account for the presence of Theo Silverton’s blood on your blouse, trousers, and shoes. ”
Sarah’s jaw tightened.
“No comment. ”
She held it together through the whole interview, never raising her voice. But I knew her. I saw the crack in her composure when Swain produced a photograph from the wedding album, taken the night Theo had dropped dead.
She’d been there, dancing, laughing, happy. And now they were trying to paint her as a killer. Later, in a private room, she finally let it out. “I keep seeing his face,” she whispered, staring at the wall.
“He just dropped. In the middle of the dance floor. Everyone thought it was a heart attack. ”
“He didn’t have a heart attack, Sarah.
They found blood on your clothes. ”
She shook her head. “That can’t be right. I never went near Theo.
I was at the bar when he collapsed. ”
“They’ve got your wedding outfit bagged and tagged. They tested the blood. ”
“But I didn’t—” She stopped, blinking.
“The only time I saw him was at the hospital. When I gave my statement after the burglary. They took my clothes for evidence then. I thought they were testing them for the burglar’s DNA, not Theo’s blood.
”
My stomach dropped. “The burglary. The night you were attacked. ”
“Yes,” she said, her voice small.
“I disturbed a break-in at my brother’s old house. They bashed me over the head and left me for dead. I gave my statement at the hospital in the clothes I was wearing. They bagged them up.
”
“And you’re sure you never saw Theo that night? ”
“Never. ” She grabbed my arm. “Gary, you have to believe me.
I didn’t kill anyone. I was attacked. I was bleeding. My own blood must have got on my clothes.
”
“But the lab says it’s Theo’s blood. ”
She went quiet. Then, almost to herself: “Unless someone planted it. ”
I paced the room, trying to think.
Kit Green had been the one who walked her home that night after the wedding. He gave her a lift, made sure she got in safe. He’d been a friend for years. But then he’d started steering clear of her, never returning my calls, always busy whenever she needed a statement followed up.
“What aren’t you telling me? ” I asked. Sarah hesitated. “There was something at the wedding.
Kit and I were outside on the balcony. Theo was there too. They argued—something about money, old grudges. Then Theo dropped.
Kit said it was a heart attack, everyone believed it. And then the next day, my clothes were taken for the burglary evidence. ”
“So Kit knew you had Theo’s blood on you. He just didn’t say anything.
”
She looked at me, eyes wide. “Or maybe he didn’t know about the blood then. Maybe he only found out later, when he was in the lab, and he decided to keep quiet to protect himself. ”
“Protect himself from what?
”
“From being a witness. Or worse—from being involved. ”
Neither of us said it out loud, but the thought hung between us: Kit had been the last one with Theo before he dropped. Kit was a detective.
Kit knew exactly how to plant evidence. “I’m being set up, Gary,” Sarah whispered. “Someone wanted me to take the fall for Theo’s death. And I think it’s Kit.
”
I wanted to argue, to defend the man I’d once shared drinks with. But I couldn’t. Not with Sarah sitting in a police cell, accused of murder, while Kit walked around the station avoiding my calls. “I’m going to find out what he knows,” I said.
“I’m going to make him talk. ”
“No,” she said quickly. “If you push him, he’ll just destroy more evidence. We need to be smart.
We need to find proof. ”
I looked at my daughter’s face, pale and exhausted. She was a good kid, a hardworking mum, not a menace to society. She didn’t deserve this.
“I’ll get you out,” I promised. “I’ll clear your name. No matter what it takes. ”
She didn’t smile.
She just stared at the wall, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t get yourself arrested too, Dad. That’s all I ask. ”
I left the station with my head spinning.
On my way out, I caught sight of Kit Green standing by the booking desk, watching me. For a second, I thought I saw guilt flicker across his face. Then he turned and walked away. I knew then that Sarah was right.
And I knew exactly where to start digging.
