PEEL-BEHIND THEIR EYES. Book 1 (Complete)

Chapter 37. Keal

Denise Shreds sat at the small formica dining table that she had pushed up against the living room window and where she watched the early morning traffic as it passed by four stories below. Her small apartment was one of many in the old red brick tower block that had once been a Victorian flour mill. Ideally for her, it was situated near the town's center, but more importantly within sight of Grimsby's Police Headquarters. With her cheek pushed up against the glass of the small window she could see the to the next block along to where the police station was situated. Outside of it, she could see the small fleet of TV vans and the clamoring crowd of journalist.

Denise knew that she should be down there fighting through that crowd with her dictaphone in hand and a camera swinging around her neck, but she wasn't. Instead, she had put all her eggs in one basket, Keal's basket to be precise. So far he had come through for her, it had been with his information that she had been able to break the story of the Gouger copycat, uncovering more than just the police cover-up reports of three runaway teenagers.

On the table in front of her, the active laptop chirped to say that it's Grammar and spell check was complete and that she was good to go with the document. With an index finger, she tapped the touch screen and expanded the text to preview mode.

A hot coffee in her hands Denise snorted with contempt at what she had written. The last thing she wanted to write was a short bio about herself for her long awaited book 'The One That Got Away'. A book that was yet to be completed and she wouldn't be able to do that until somehow she convinced Detective Peel to let her interview him about his father and the Gouger.

Time was running out; her publishers were getting impatient with her excuses. She knew if she didn't email them soon as possible then her advance would be withheld and as she owed more than two month's rent, that couldn't happen. No matter what she couldn't afford to miss the deadline, she desperately needed the money.

She began to read "Denise Shreds 39, born and raised by loving parents in the once famous fishing town of Great Grimsby is an Investigating journalist"

She couldn't read any more than that as the lies she had written stuck in her throat. Unlike the piece suggested she hadn't been raised by loving parents, they had died when she had been a baby, instead, she had been raised by her spinster aunt who had died as Denise turned twelve years of age. From then she had spent time escaping from one foster home to another until the social system finally at the age of sixteen washed its hands of her.

The colleges and University's that she had claimed to have studied at were also all lies. If her résumés had been closely inspected her deceit would have been revealed for all to see. Growing up the way she had, had given her the ability to persuade people with ease. Denise had walked into her job at the Evening Post and had happily worked for over ten years, but now she needed to move on and working freelance was the way to go.

Attaching her profile picture to the document she realized that it was as much of a lie as her bio, her hair was naturally curly and auburn, her eyes brown, yet she felt more comfortable if people believed she had straight shoulder length brown hair and green eyes. She felt a confidence behind that mask, a confidence that her true self, lacked.

The email to her publisher now complete with attachments, Denise clicked send and bit her cheek with anxiety. She hoped that somehow Peel would relent on his decision not to talk to her otherwise she was sunk. As she was about to close her laptop she heard it bing, announcing an incoming email.

With a tap, she opened the email App thinking,

"Wow the publishers must really be in a rush" but looking at the highlighted sender she realized her mistake and brightened some. The email was from Keal, she had been waiting and hoping he would contact her, everything hinged on him.

Opening the message, she read:

"Meet me on the bridge in fifteen minutes!"

With a nervous smile, she closed the laptop. She had suggested that covert name for him and when he asked why that name she had told him that everything he said was like the Keel under her boat directing her and of course it was an anagram, she had smiled, he did not. With a gulp, she finished her coffee before getting herself together. The bridge in question was the wrought iron Corporation bridge that was only around the corner and was where she had last met up with him.

Already heading out of the door she knew she needed enough time to descend the 8 flights of stairs. She suffered claustrophobia ever since her younger years, thanks to her Aunties use of the under stair cupboard as punishment. There was never a chance of her taking the elevator.

Ten minutes later Denise walked onto the bridge and along the pathway to the middle, where she waited by the ornate iron lamppost they had agreed to meet at. She didn't have to wait long, from the same end as she had just come appeared a darkly clad figure back-lit by the early morning sun. The figure approached out of the bright light, a broad frame wearing a familiar uniform. Silver buttons on the man's jacket captured rays of light as he turned a little to his left as if to hide behind the previous lamppost. Denise laughed at his precautions.

Denise called "Do you think people can't see a copper hiding behind there. Suspicious activity is far more noticeable than a copper just standing around talking, Constable Loftis"

The young police officer marched quickly to her side and grabbing her elbow and whispered.

"Sshhh! Don't use my name so loudly, we agreed on Keal remember" Loftis snapped.

Denise smiled at him as she shrugged away his hand "Relax will you, this isn't a spy movie, there are no MI5 agents keeping tabs on us. So what have you got apart from a bag"

Loftis held up the black suit carry bag and gave it a look of hatred.

"My latest job, dry cleaning. It's a joke and not a very funny one at that!"

Denise understood where Loftis was coming from "Yes I know exactly what you mean. It seems that DCI Peel has both our careers in his hands and is squeezing the life out of them. Well, between the two of us, let's grab something for ourselves, yes!"

Loftis grinned as she moved in on him grabbing the much younger man around the waist and pulling him close. With the eagerness of youth Loftis held her face in the palms of his hands and kissed her hard, his tongue parting her lips darting urgently into his mouth. Denise with an experience the young constable had yet to learn melted just enough into his arms to make him feel like the stronger of the two. Pushing him back enough to part the kiss she giggled "Whoa tiger, remember your supposed to be inconspicuous"

Loftis smiled for the first time and pulled her back "Well why don't we go back to your place and be very conspicuous as we were the other night hmm?"

Her hand stroking his arm Denise gently pushed him back out of arms reach "If I may remind you" she pointed at the bag he had dropped in his enthusiasm "you have a job to do and hopefully something interesting to tell me before we, you know, later" she gave him one of her best schoolgirl innocent smiles and winked.

With an exasperated huff Loftis picked up the bag and began to walk the rest of the way across the bridge "come on, let's walk and talk"