Chapter Text
III. Alec & Ellie
These days, Alec’s alarm clock is a 6-year-old with sharp elbows. It amused Alec that Ellie, a night owl if he’d ever known one, had given birth to an unrelenting early bird — until one morning Tom sleepily remarked Fred was like Joe in that regard. Steel grey eyes and a genetic predisposition to rise with the sun.
Alec gets up with the lad so Ellie doesn’t have to.
In the beginning, he’d wanted Ellie to rest — and heal — but now he looks forward to his early morning strolls with wee Fred. They go to the beach, to the green, to the bistro, once to St. Bede’s churchyard. Fred’s a curious little thing, who loves dinosaurs and his big brother, even when Tom doesn’t want anything to do with him. Especially when Tom doesn’t want anything to do with him. Fred asks endless questions, and Alec answers the best he can.
He’d been worried he wouldn’t remember any of it, that he’d forgotten how to parent small children as soon as Daisy stopped being one. But it had all come back when Ellie and her boys moved in.
Parenting. He’d been so careful not to even think about it that way those first few weeks. Ellie had been through so much, and they were both so raw. Alec hadn’t wanted to scare her with the intensity of his feelings, and besides, he’d felt a bit too old to be doing it all again.
That had been before Fred accidentally called Alec “Dad.” It’s happened a few times now, and no matter how much warmth it floods Alec with, he still has to get down on Fred’s level and explain that while he loves the lad and his mum very much, he isn’t his dad. Alec knows it’s only a matter of time before Fred slips up in front of Ellie or Tom, especially since he’s only seemed more confused since his mum talked to him about Joe. “My bad dad,” Fred had called Joe yesterday morning. “Caitlin has two dads. Why can’t I?”
But it doesn’t matter if Alec’s ready to step up and be a father to Ellie’s boys if she isn’t ready to let him. Sure, she’d asked about powers of attorney, but she hadn’t been happy with how he’d handled Fred’s teacher. Or when she found out he’d taken Tom and Maddie to the community health clinic in Bridport for contraception. And she still doesn’t know the half of it. Because even though Ellie’s the strongest woman he knows, she might not be strong enough for this.
So instead of enjoying a rare lie-in with the woman he loves, Alec is spending the predawn hour Thursday working out how to tell her the truth. The secrets he’s uncovered. The lies he had to tell to uncover them. They’d fallen asleep naked the night before, and he drops a kiss between her bare shoulder blades. He’s not trying to start anything — mostly reassuring himself she’s there and safe — but then Ellie presses her warm, supple body against his.
Alec groans. How he’d ever thought of her as mumsy, he isn’t sure.
Ellie rolls over in his arms. “Try again?” she whispers.
Alec knows it’ll probably go as it did the night before, but still he nods. He hadn’t wanted to push after what happened at the hotel, but Ellie’s been initiating all week. He’s worked out that she’s trying to exorcise something — they’ll get achingly close before she draws back — and he isn’t sure if the hangup is mental or physical at this point. Not that it matters. They’ll go at Ellie’s pace, and not a second faster.
Not that Alex’s suffering here. Not as their legs tangle, not as her knees settle on either side of his hips. If this is patience, Alec is a virtuous man.
Ellie cups his cheek with one hand, the other sliding down to his chest as they kiss. Her preoccupation with his pacemaker scar had unnerved him until he’d realized she was expressing her gratitude, thankful he’d survived. Alec reaches instinctively for her full, heavy breasts, fingers finding the marks Joe left. She’d survived, too.
Ellie shudders as Alec brushes his thumb over her pert nipple. “Condom,” she instructs.
Alec is reaching for the nightstand drawer when they’re interrupted by a knock. They have all of a second to untangle themselves before Daisy pokes her head in.
“Dad, did you still want to get — oh,” she says, pulling the door closed with enough force to jar loose the memory of making plans to take her to breakfast.
So much for stepping up for Ellie’s boys. Alec can’t even get it right with his own daughter. He throws back the covers.
“Nothing like your teenage children to kill the mood,” Ellie muses, throwing an arm up to shield her eyes as Alec turns on the bedside lamp, her scarred breasts on display. “Think we ought to install a lock?”
“Sorry, Ell,” Alec says. He ducks in for a kiss on his way to the closet and tries not to stare at the imprint of Joe’s teeth. “Forgot I promised Daisy we’d get breakfast this morning.”
“Don’t you ever apologize for wanting to spend time with your daughter,” Ellie scolds. Her eyes must have adjusted to the light because she lowers her arm. Her gaze follows him from the dresser to the closet as he hastily pulls on pants and an undershirt. “Daisy and Bea, or just Daisy?”
“Just Daisy. Said she wanted to talk.” He fumbles with his dress shirt, frowning when his fingers run out of buttons. He looks up. “Why? Do you know something I don’t?”
“Come here,” Ellie commands. She fixes his misaligned buttons for him but doesn’t answer his question. “I’ll let you do your tie.”
“I love you,” Alec says, kissing her again. “See you — ”
That’s when he hears heavy footfalls, followed by the back door slamming. Daisy. Alec groans. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might be eavesdropping on the other side of the door.
“ — at work,” Ellie finishes. “Go on, then.” She closes her eyes. “Love you, too.”
Alec finds Bea in the living room, sitting on the couch and sipping from the ridiculously overpriced pink Hydro Flask Daisy had begged him to buy for her birthday. There’s an untouched piece of dry toast on the coffee table.
“Er,” he says, not entirely sure what he’s supposed to do in this situation.
Bea points to the back door. “She’s outside.” And she pulls the blanket babushka-style over her head and sinks into the couch, back to nursing her hangover.
Sure enough, Alec finds Daisy in the garden. “Where’s your coat?”
Daisy shrugs.
Alec goes back inside and locates Daisy’s jacket under Ellie’s awful orange anorak on their overstuffed coat hooks. When he comes back out, Daisy is letting the stray tomcat she used to feed sniff her hand.
“Looks like he remembers you,” Alec says, holding out her jacket. “Here. It’s too cold to be outside without a coat.”
“That’s Bea’s,” Daisy says sullenly.
Alec frowns. He’s sure she’d been wearing it the day before. “Well, I don’t think Bea’s going anywhere for a while.” Reluctantly, Daisy shrugs on the proffered coat. “You all right?”
“Didn’t drink as much as she did.” The tomcat leaps up onto the picnic table, but he’s careful to stay just out of her reach. “Going to lecture me?”
“Did the three of you look out for one another?”
Daisy bristles. “Of course, Dad.”
“Can Bea pull it together in time to catch her train?” She’s supposed to be on the 2 o’clock to London, which Alec understands had been a compromise. Bea’s parents agreed she could visit Daisy in Broadchurch so long as she spent the weekend with them before heading back to Swansea.
Daisy considers this. “I think so.”
“Then no lecture.” Alec shoves his hands in his pockets. He should’ve grabbed his own coat. He nods at the cat. “He let Tom pet him the other day.”
“What a liar.”
Alec’s brow furrows. “What d’you mean?”
“Tom, he’s a liar. He said he hasn’t been feedin’ him, but you can see he’s filled out.”
Alec isn’t about to tell Daisy who’s really been feeding the cat. He reaches out, but the cat jumps down with a hiss. “You and Tom, you’re getting along?” No answer. He sighs. “Look, Daiz, I’m sorry I forgot about breakfast. You know I’m glad you’re home, right? It’s just this case, it — ”
“Dad, there’s always a case,” Daisy interrupts. “What were you even doin’ last night? You said you were going to work late, but this mornin’ there was an empty whisky bottle on the counter.”
“DS Letchley and DC Parry were here late,” Alec tells his daughter, not that it explains the empty whisky bottle. He’d had exactly one drink, Ellie stopped drinking after she’d come in from the garden, and of course Megan hadn’t drank at all. Alec isn’t supposed to know the DC is pregnant, but he wouldn’t be a very good DI if he’d missed the signs. Likewise, he’s been concerned about Ewan’s drinking for a while now, and now he knows he’ll have to have a talk with his DS. No way Ewan should’ve driven home last night. So much for hoping he was Ellie’s source on the AA meeting.
It takes some coaxing, but twenty minutes later Alec and Daisy are tucked into a tiny corner booth at the café on the high street. He sits with his back to the wall so he can keep an eye out for eavesdroppers. “Talk to your mum this week?”
“Yesterday.” Daisy picks up a sugar packet.
“How’s — ” Alec scrunches up his face, trying to remember where Tess had gone off on her honeymoon “ — Greece?”
Daisy looks up. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Didn’t tell me what?”
“They canceled their trip.” Daisy flicks the sugar packet. “You know, on account of Dave’s kids.”
Alec’s a good investigator, knows when not to say anything. He watches his daughter flick the sugar packet faster and faster. Then she sighs heavily.
“That’s why Mom called. They’ve been granted temporary custody. She wanted to know if it was all right to put Mia in my room.” Alec immediately feels guilty for having done the same thing. “And they were supposed to go to Spain, not Greece.”
Alec makes a mental note to call Tess. “But is that what you wanted to tell me?”
It’s almost imperceptible, Daisy’s split-second hesitation. “Yes,” she lies.
But Alec knows better than to call her out on it. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.
“Not really.”
The waitress brings their drinks — tea for Alec, coffee for Daisy. He wonders if she remembers how he used to make it for her, a splash of coffee in a glass of milk. These days, she drinks her coffee black. “Look, Daiz, about this morning — ”
“Dad, I don’t care that you and Ellie were — ” her cheeks go pink “ — shaggin’ or whatever.” Suddenly he understands why she’d wanted something to do with her hands.
“Just going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Alec says. He studies his daughter for a long moment, trying to decide if she looks older than she had when he dropped her off at school. Finally, he says, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”
“Dad, it’s fine. We’re here now, aren’t we?”
Alec shakes his head. “No, I mean — I didn’t take your feelings into consideration when I moved Ellie and the boys in. I knew how upset you were about your mum and Dave, and then I turned around and did it, too.”
“That was different.”
Except Alec doesn’t see how. “I’m not following, Daiz.”
She shrugs. “Didn’t have a choice, did you? Not after what happened.”
“No.” Alec hesitates, remembering how she’d stormed off after overhearing him tell Ellie he loved her. “Daiz, you know this isn’t just until we catch Joe, don’t you?”
“I know,” Daisy says, but too quickly.
“Because I love Ellie,” he continues. He hesitates, not sure if he should tell his daughter he intends to ask Ellie to marry him when all is said and done. But if he owes anyone the truth, it’s his daughter. “And once she’s able to get divorced — ”
“I said I know,” Daisy snaps. Then she closes her eyes and purses her mouth.
It’s an expression Alec knows all too well. Tess’ frustrated face. “Daisy,” he says pleadingly.
But she shakes her head. “It’s not you,” she says, blowing out a breath. Just like her mum would. Unlike Tess, however, Daisy apologizes. “Sorry, Dad,” she says, lifting her chin and meeting his gaze. “I didn’t mean to snap.”
Tess would never.
Alec swallows the lump in his throat. “Sure you don’t want to talk about Dave’s kids?” he asks, tone light.
“Absolutely sure.” Daisy bites her lip. Over her shoulder, Alec can see the waitress approaching. “Dad, what if Joe Miller comes back?”
Just then their food arrives, giving Daisy’s words plenty of time to burrow beneath his skin. Here she’s just vocalized his worst fear, and he has to turn down three different kinds of marmalade before the waitress will leave them alone.
For a second, neither of them speaks. Then DI Hardy takes over. “Daiz, I know you hate it when I’m a cop first and your dad second, but this is important. Do you know something I don’t? You haven’t seen Joe Miller around town, have you?”
Her eyes widen. “No! Of course not. Dad, I would’ve told you.”
“Good girl. Now I need to know if Tom’s said anything to you about Joe, mentioned his father at all.” Alec doesn’t feel good about this, but he knows all too well how good Tom is at keeping secrets.
Daisy shakes her head. “No.”
“I mean it, Daisy. If Tom’s said anything about his dad being back in Broadchurch, anything at all, I need you to tell me right now.”
“I told you, he hasn’t.”
“You’re sure?”
“Dad, what are you saying? Do you — I brought Bea home! I didn’t know it wasn’t safe!”
As calmly as he can, Alec says, “Daiz, I need you to keep your voice down. Can you do that for me?” She nods. “All right. I have no reason to believe Broadchurch isn’t safe. Do you really think I’d have allowed you to come back if that were the case?”
“No.” Daisy exhales slowly. “Dad, I swear Tom and I don’t talk about Joe. We talk about A-levels and ‘Bake Off’ and who’d get the top bunk on a family vacation.” She manages a watery smile he’s not sure if he should return. “And l suppose we talk about you and Ellie.”
“Anything I should know about?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know.” Then, “I told him I can’t remember you ever looking at Mum the way you look at Ellie.”
Alec had, once upon a time. But those days ended long before Daisy.
“And you know what Tom said?” Daisy continues. “That his mum hasn’t smiled this much since before — well, since before Danny.” She shifts her gaze up to meet her father’s. “After she told him she’d been raped, he thought she might not smile ever again. But Dad, she smiles all the time.”
Alec decides this isn’t a conversation for the café. “Why don’t we get out of here?” he asks. When his daughter nods, he flags down their waitress, who insists on coming back with to-go boxes for their uneaten food before she’ll let him pay.
Daisy waits until they’re safely ensconced in the car. “Ellie’s not the only one,” she says quietly. “You’re smiley, too. It’s the thing I’ve noticed most this week. How much happier you seem in spite of everything.”
Alec reaches over and puts his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Daiz, I’ll never know what I did to deserve a daughter like you.”
Daisy bites her lip. “I watched the press conference, you know. The one you gave with DCI Desai.”
“I wish you hadn’t,” Alec mutters.
Daisy ignores him. “Do you remember me callin’ to ask if what they were sayin’ on the news was true?”
It had been the same day he’d clumsily confessed his feelings to Ellie. In her box room, no less. “I do.”
Daisy looks like she’s screwing up the courage to ask him something, and when she finally does, it’s a punch in the gut. “Dad, what’s a — what did DCI Desai mean when he called it ‘a prolonged sexual attack?’ Like it lasted a long time? Did Joe hurt her worse’n her shoulder?” Her look is pleading, and Alec wonders if he’s supposed to lie. Ellie will be fine. Joe didn’t do any lasting damage. That’s all he’d have to say.
Alec keeps secrets. Bends the truth when the situation calls for it. But he tries not to tell outright lies unless he absolutely has to, and never to his daughter. When he’d left Sandbrook in disgrace, there had been his one condition. He told Tess he’d take responsibility. He’d even take the fall.
But he wouldn’t lie to Daisy.
“I’m not tryin’ to be nosy,” his daughter continues. “It’s just — Ellie’s still in pain. You can see it on her face whenever she gets up from a chair. Or when she’s been standin’ for too long. And I’m sorry I barged in this morning, and I know I shouldn’t have looked, but Dad, her — she’s all scarred up. I mean, I only got a glimpse, but — ” Daisy breaks off, shaking her head.
The truth. The truth is, Alec’s still unraveling it himself. Ellie’s ABE interview had left them all feeling sick, and if anything, she’d downplayed what Joe put her through. Every time Alec thinks he’s made his peace with it, he learns some new, horrible detail. Like the night she’d finally let him take her back to A&E. Her pain had been getting worse, not better. And this time, the x-rays had revealed a broken coccyx.
Five weeks, that’s how long she’d suffered quietly, not wanting to trouble anyone, not wanting to delay her return to work.
The doctor on duty — not Cian Anderson, thank God — had given Ellie a very gentle scolding and recommended a nerve block for some temporary relief. He said he’d let them discuss it, then slipped out of the exam room. By the dim glow of the X-ray view box, she’d told Alec it had been more than twice. That she’d lost count because Joe would choke her until she was almost unconscious, then rape her again.
“It’s going to be hard to hear,” Alec warns his daughter. “Are you sure, Daiz?”
She nods. “I’m sure. I need to know, Dad. It’s my family, too.”
That seals it. Alec slides his hand off his daughter’s shoulder and rests it on his knee, then steels himself. “Nish called it a prolonged sexual attack because Joe restrained Ellie with her handcuffs and raped her repeatedly over a period of about three hours.”
And he tells Daisy the rest. None of the lurid details. Nothing Ellie’s shared in confidence, lying in his arms late at night in their bed. Just what’ll come out in court if there’s ever a trial. When, Alec reminds himself. When there’s a trial.
“Do you remember what Joe did for work?” he asks Daisy.
She sniffs loudly, her eyes rimmed with tears. “Uh, stayed home with the boys, I thought.”
“Before that.”
It takes her a second. “He was a paramedic.”
Alec nods. “Which meant he knew just how far he could take things. How much he could hurt her. He kept chokin’ her, like he meant to kill her. But I don’t think that was ever Joe’s plan. He wanted her terrified. He wanted her to know who was in control.”
That’s it, over and done with. Unable to look at his little girl, Alec stares at his hands. He’d gripped the steering wheel at some point, and his knuckles are turning white. The rage he’s so careful to keep in check flashes over, and for a second, he pictures Joe’s neck.
*
Ellie arrives at the CID Thursday morning feeling like she’s forgotten something. With the boys not back from their overnights, and Daisy out to breakfast with her dad, all there had been for Ellie to do was make Bea a cup of strong, hot tea. She’s about to chalk it up to the strangeness of getting ready without any of the usual chaos when her mobile rings. Olly’s name pops up on the caller ID. Damn. And she’d promised Maggie, too.
“Olly,” Ellie greets him, tossing her keys on her desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that Alec’s office is dark and empty, which means he’s probably already gone to the hospital to try to interview Silva. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
“Yeah?” The line crackles, and Ellie thinks she hears a whistle in the background. “I wanted to tell you I’m headed home for a few days. Uh, I’m actually at the train station.” Which would explain the platform sounds. “Taking the 8:37 from Paddington.” Another whistle. “Any chance you could pick me up at the station in Weymouth so I don’t have to wait around for the bus?”
Ellie grips the back of her chair. “Olly, I would, it’s just we’re in the middle of an — ”
“ — investigation,” Olly finishes. “I know.”
The last thing they need right now is a reporter from one of the London papers poking around their investigation, even if he is her nephew. “Olly, please tell me this is only a social call.” Silence. “Olly.”
“C’mon, Aunt Ellie,” he tries. “Look at it from my perspective. The story writes itself. A young mother is almost killed for her wedding ring while vacationing in a sleepy seaside town. The case remains unsolved — until eleven months later, when a late-night hit-and-run outside one of the local pubs takes out the prime suspect.”
Ellie freezes. They’d never told the press that Maxwell Silva was a person of interest in the robbery in Bothenhampton last year. “Olly, where are you getting your information?”
But Olly isn’t finished. “Then, a few days later, the car from the hit-and-run turns up in a pond with a body inside. Now the detectives who cracked the Sandbrook murders wide open are — ”
Ellie’s phone beeps. She pulls the phone away from her ear to see who’s calling — Alec — and misses what roles Olly’s cast them in for his little melodrama. “Olly,” she interjects, “I don’t know who your source is, but they’ve got some things wrong.”
“Can I quote you on that?”
“You better not.” She sighs. “Look, I want to see you, but not at a crime scene, OK? Come by later, and we’ll talk.” But not about the case. She hears Alec’s call go to voicemail.
“Sure.” He pauses. “Where?”
“What do you mean, where?” Ellie asks, distracted because Alec is calling back. Not a good sign, two calls in rapid succession before she’s even sat down.
“Tom told me you’re not staying at the house right now,” Olly says lightly.
“Oh.” Ellie swallows. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to invite him over before talking to Alec. “Listen, Olly, I have to go. But I’ll text you, and we’ll get coffee.”
She’s just ended the call when Alec rings a third time. “You first,” she says grimly, knowing she’ll have to tell him Olly knows more about their investigation than he has any right to.
But it turns out Alec is calling about the same bad news. “Caroline Hughes published a story identifying Maxwell Silva as the prime suspect in the beating of Alannah Simpson and theft of her wedding ring.”
Ellie’s closes her eyes, remembering how her rape had been written about in the awful rag that had risen from the ashes of the Echo —
A 44-year-old Broadchurch woman was brutally raped in her Village Grove home early Wednesday morning in what Wessex Police are calling ‘a prolonged sexual attack.’ And sources close to the investigation say this one’s personal — the victim is a detective sergeant at the Broadchurch CID.
The article had gone on to insinuate the “poor woman” could have avoided “multiple hours of sexual torment” had she “just locked her door.” Caroline’s handiwork, no doubt.
“Well, that would explain the phone call I just got from Olly,” Ellie says, quickly filling Alec in. Then she pauses, waiting for him to groan. The knot in her stomach tightens as the seconds tick by. “Alec?”
She realizes the call has dropped just before a hand on her shoulder just about sends her through the roof. She glares at Alec. Of all people, he ought to know better.
But her exasperation fades when she sees his haggard expression. “Sorry, Ell,” he says softly. His Adam’s apple bobs. “Clark wants to see us both in her office.”
*
“‘A source close to the Beachside Burglar investigation says Silva first became known to police late last year, after a young mother visiting from Leeds was brutally beaten in front of her toddler,’” Clark reads from Caroline Hughes’ latest story. “‘The crime shocked the quiet village of Bothenhampton, where pensioners and holidaymakers come to escape the social ills of the city. And although police at the time promised to bring to justice swiftly whoever attacked Alannah Simpson, eleven months on, the investigation has stalled. As has the inquiry into another brutal assault, the rape this summer of a 44-year-old woman — ’” someone’s phone dings, and the chief super looks up briefly to glare at them “‘ — in Broadchurch. Police initially suggested the two assaults were related but have been tight-lipped since it was reported that the raped woman was a detective at the Broadchurch CID. At the Herald, we ask why more isn’t being done to stop this predator from attacking other women.’”
With that, Clark closes that morning’s paper, resting her elbows on her desk and clasping her hands. “So,” she asks the detectives, “which one of you called the reporter?”
Alec knows better than to say anything, and he wills Ellie not to, either. He wishes he could see her face, but when they’d gotten to Clark’s office, DCI Nish Desai was already occupying one of the two chairs. That’s when Alec had known it was serious. Nish has always let Alec run his own investigations, trusting that once the work was delegated it would get done. He doesn’t get involved in personnel matters as a rule and only ever pulled rank on Alec during the investigation into Ellie’s rape.
“No? None of you have an explanation for how Caroline Hughes learned that Maxwell Silva was a suspect after Alannah Simpson was attacked? Because your silence is not being interpreted as a denial.”
“Oh, come off it,” Ellie snaps, and Alec cringes inwardly, wishing she hadn’t taken the bait. “Why would I call a reporter to complain my rapist hadn’t been caught? Why would Alec? And moreover, why implicate Silva? I know perfectly well who raped me, and it wasn’t him. We don’t even think Silva attacked Alannah Simpson.”
Alec looks up just in time to see Clark stop wringing her hands. “I wasn’t aware you were still on the investigation, DS Barrett. In fact, I believe I was quite clear that your reassignment to DI Hardy’s chain of command was temporary and contingent upon results you did not achieve.” Her gaze shifts to Alec. “Well? Is it true you no longer believe Silva was involved in the assault and robbery in Bothenhampton last year?”
He chooses his words carefully. “We believe Silva may have been involved in the theft of Mrs. Simpson’s wedding ring.”
Clark arches her eyebrows. “But not her assault?”
“No.”
“I see.” Clark purses her lips. “And DS Barrett, what have you had her doing this week?”
Alec bites back the urge to remind the chief super Ellie is sitting right there and doesn’t need him to answer for her. “I asked her to take point on three burglaries that took place over the weekend so that DS Letchley and I could remain focused on Silva and the hit-and-run.”
“So you didn’t take DS Barrett with you to Mangerton on Tuesday evening to conduct interviews?”
“Jacqueline, if I may?” Nish interjects, causing Alec’s head to jerk up in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting the soft-spoken DCI to say anything, let alone intercede on their behalf. “It was all hands on deck as soon as we found Stephen Townley’s body in Mangerton Lake, and DI Hardy made a reasonable call under the circumstances.”
Now Clark steeples her fingers. “So am I correct in inferring he didn’t inform you first, DCI Desai?”
“I never said that, Jacqueline,” Nish says evenly, and Alec stops himself from closing his eyes just in time. He hadn’t bothered to tell Nish what they were doing, as the DCI had been out at the beginning of the week, though he’d cancelled his annual leave when it became apparent Martin wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Alec wonders if that had been Nish’s call — or Clark’s. “Look, I’m sure we all want the same — ”
“What I want,” Clark interrupts, picking up that morning’s newspaper again, “is for someone to ’fess up.” She glares at Ellie. “Because I think whoever fed Caroline Hughes this cock and bull story is sitting in this room.”
The words slip out of Alec’s mouth as easily as they had back in South Mercia. “I take responsibility,” he says. “It’s my investigation, and if there’s been a leak, that’s on me.”
Of course, the last time Alec took the fall for his DS, Tess had been guilty as hell. Not Ellie. For all his insistence that people are unknowable, Alec knows Ellie’s heart. And she would never muck up an investigation by calling a journalist. Especially not a parasite like Caroline Hughes.
Clark begins to shake her head. “Oh no you don’t,” she says. “You’re not falling on that sword again. I only intend to suspend one of — ”
This time, it’s Nish who interrupts. “No one’s getting suspended,” he says firmly. “Do you hear yourself, Jacqueline? Can you imagine the field day Caroline Hughes would have if it got out we’d suspended our only woman DS not two weeks after her return from medical leave? When we haven’t even arrested her rapist? Forget the ‘Herald,’ we’d have the national press on our doorstep.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, they’re already knocking,” Clark replies coolly. “Get your people under control, Nish. If I have to call the three of you in here again, one of you is putting in for a transfer, and you might not like who I pick.”
And she kicks them out of her office.
Nish surprises Alec again when he pulls the door closed and mutters, “That went well.” Alec wants badly to check on Ellie, but Nish dismisses her. “You can go, Ellie. Alec, my office. I want a word.”
So Alec’s still going to get reprimanded, just not by the chief super. With no choice but to follow Nish, he tells Ellie, “We’ll talk later.”
Nish has no sooner closed his office door than Alec launches into a rant. “Ellie didn’t call that journalist, and you know it. She wants these cases solved as much as anyone. More’n Clark, at any rate. And she doesn’t want me workin’ with Ell but won’t approve my request for a floater? I didn’t see her out at Mangerton Lake on — ”
“Alec, either you sit down and listen to what I have to say, or I write you up. Your choice, but we both know how much I hate paperwork.” Alec can practically feel Nish’s gaze on him as he takes a seat. “Good decision,” Nish says, drawing the blinds before making his way to his own chair.
Rather than make eye contact, Alec stares at a photo of Nish’s wife and three daughters dressed in bright saris. All three girls have their mother’s dazzling smile. It’s an old photo, but then again, all cops keep old photos on their desk. Daisy would die of embarrassment if she knew the only photo of her in his office was taken at the Chester Zoo on her tenth birthday. It had been a recent photo when Tess framed it, way back when he’d first made DI.
At last, Nish breaks the silence. “Alec, I know you and Ellie aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re adults in a consensual, loving relationship, and I’d say the two of you deserve that much after everything you’ve been through. Frankly, I don’t know when your relationship started, nor do I care. But you can’t break the rules again. Clark’s not kidding about splitting you up.” He stares pointedly at Alec. “And I shouldn’t need to tell you it won’t be your career that suffers.”
Alec growls in frustration. “It’s not realistic what Clark wants. We aren’t allowed to talk about our cases now? What are we supposed to do when we get home? Stare at each other in silence?”
“What if I told you some of us don’t bring work home with us?” Nish counters, turning to wake his computer. “Look, we both know Clark’s problem is she’s a micromanager,” he says, typing his password. “Obsessed with chain of command and prone to lashing out if she feels even slightly out of the loop. And she’s not wrong to be upset about that article. It’s a PR nightmare.”
“Ellie wasn’t Caroline Hughes’ source,” Alec says stubbornly.
“I know that, and you know that,” Nish says as he opens his email. “And I think deep down, Clark does too. Ah, there it is.” He skims the message before turning his monitor out so Alec can see the screen. “I saw it come through while we were in Clark’s office. Location data for Ellie’s old phone. Whoever has it turned it on multiple times this week.”
Alec doesn’t have his readers on him, and he almost knocks over the photo of Nish’s family trying to get close enough to see where the phone had pinged recently. Monday, Cardiff. Tuesday, Cardiff. Wednesday, Cardiff. At least for the moment, Joe’s still in Wales. Alec exhales, able to feel the pacemaker working to slow his rapidly-beating heart. He grips the arms of the chair and lowers himself back into the seat.
“All right?” Nish asks. Alec nods, remembering how upon his return to Broadchurch, the DCI had made the entire unit retake their CPR certification with an instructor who emphasized pacemaker safety. Humiliating, certainly, but at least Alec stands a chance if he ever collapses at work again. His gaze lands back on Nish’s beautiful daughters, and he can’t help but think about the question Daisy had asked him not an hour ago. Dad, what if Joe Miller comes back?
“He took Danny’s phone, too,” Alec hears himself say. His voice sounds too strained to be his. “Joe, I mean. He took Danny’s phone, and now he’s got Ellie’s.” He looks up. “I had — started to suspect him. A few days before he turned on the location on Danny’s phone. Maybe a week.” He’s never told anyone this before, not even Ellie. “I didn’t want it to be him, though. For her sake.”
Nish rocks slightly in his chair as he thinks. “I see.”
“I just — I keep thinking maybe he’ll turn it on one day. Decide he can’t live with the guilt anymore, let us take him into custody. End this nightmare for Ellie.” He looks up. “It took 59 days last time.” Alec swallows hard. “And it’s been 57 days since he raped Ellie.”
Nish stops rocking. “Alec, I know what you’re trying to do, but ... ” he trails off, then shakes his head. “This isn’t like last time.”
“Did he use her phone? Did he use her phone to call Caroline Hughes?”
“We’ll know soon enough. Would Ellie have had any reason to have Hughes’ phone number?”
Alec pulls out his own phone and scrolls through his contacts. “I have it,” he says, showing Nish. “And just in case Clark gets any ideas, it’s so I know not to pick up when she calls.”
“Unless the phone records show something different, I’m comfortable working off the theory that whoever has Ellie’s old phone likely impersonated her to Caroline Hughes.”
“But why?” Alec wants to know. “Why try to pin this on Silva? Joe’s DNA was all over that crime scene.” All over Ellie. “He scrubbed every inch of that beach house where he killed Danny. The lack of physical evidence, that’s what hurt us. So he knows better. But with Ellie — ”
“Alec, I’m going to stop you right there,” Nish says gently. “You don’t need to relive it. I worked the scene, remember? And it was upsetting to say the least. Do you know how many referrals I’ve written to counseling these past few weeks? I’ve watched some of our most senior investigators break down, and we didn’t find her like that.” Alec doesn’t like the look in Nish’s dark eyes. “I sincerely hope you’re getting the support you need.”
“It’s not about me, sir,” Alec mumbles.
Nish sighs. “Like hell it’s not. You’re her partner, Alec, and I don’t think the two of you are just playing house right now.” He arches an eyebrow, clearly waiting for confirmation.
“No, sir,” Alec admits.
“I didn’t think so. If you’re not already seeing someone, you ought to, if for no other reason than to be there for her.” He clears his throat. “What do you have going on today?”
Alec checks his watch. “I need to get over to Bothenhampton. Child protection’s going to remove the Townley girls to care. I just want to make sure it goes all right.”
“Then see it through. What about Silva?” Alec had brought Nish up to speed on their struggles to get past Dr. Anderson the day before. “Since I haven’t seen Ewan today, I’m going to guess you’ve got him posted at the hospital?”
“Aye.”
“And Ellie?”
“Going back over Marjorie Dahl’s house with SOCO.” Alec pauses. “She did damn good work in Exeter yesterday.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Nish rises from his chair. “Well, I hope you won’t give up on us just yet. God knows I’d understand it if Ellie wanted a fresh start someplace else, but if you can stick it out a little longer, I think there will be opportunities for you both closer to home.”
Alec frowns, wondering if Nish knows Miranda Marin offered Ellie the DI job in Exeter. His eyes follow the DCI to the door, but he doesn’t stand. “What do you know that I don’t?”
“Nothing I can tell you right now,” Nish says, reaching for the door handle to let Alec know he’s being dismissed. “Keep me posted today, and I’ll try to keep Clark off your back, OK? Ellie’s, too.”
But something dawns on Alec as he stands. “What did you mean, unless the phone records show something different? We don’t have them already?” Alec had signed off on the warrant to track Ellie’s old phone himself, and he doesn’t like the look on Nish’s face one bit.
“The initial warrant was only good for 30 days,” Nish says finally. “It expired — ”
“ — almost a month ago,” Alec finishes, glaring at his supervisor. “It wasn’t renewed? Why the hell not? Why — ”
“Alec, it was supposed to be,” Nish cuts in. “And I think we both know who was supposed to do it.” Alec must clench his jaw because Nish starts shaking his head. “No, Alec, you cannot say anything to him. This is not your investigation. I shouldn’t have even told you.”
Ewan. Ewan had let the tracking on Ellie’s old phone expire. The only warning they might get if Joe’s headed back to Dorset. The one thing that Alec knows helps Ellie sleep at night. His own bloody partner.