Written In Blood

Chapter Fifteen

The first thing Melissa did upon her return to the police station in Oakhurst, was put the kettle on. While she waited for it to boil, she made her way along the passage to the cell that held Oliver Ryder.

"I hear you've been behaving yourself," she said as she peered through the small viewing window in the door of the cell. "What's wrong? You ill?"

When more than half a minute passed without a response from the normally loudly vocal Oliver, Melissa changed tacks. "Do you want something to drink?"

Another half a minute ticked by before Oliver finally spoke," Stella."

It didn't surprise Melissa that Oliver would ask for something like that, it was in his nature to be a pain. She sighed and resisted the urge to swear. "You know I can't get you that, Oliver; you can't have alcohol in here. I can do you a cup of tea or coffee, or water – I think there might be a can of coke in the fridge, if you'd rather have that."

Oliver was tempted to tell Melissa where to go, and to hell with her offer of a drink. He knew, however, that if he did it would be hours before he was offered anything to drink again, and since he was already a little thirsty, he preferred not to give Melissa, or any of the other cops, a reason to leave him without refreshment.

"Coke then, and make sure it's cold," he couldn't resist adding.

"I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything," Melissa told him.

The kettle had boiled by the time she returned to the kitchen, and quickly she filled the three mugs she had prepared. Two of the mugs, she delivered to Mitchell and Constable Pritchard, while the third, she kept for herself. With the mug in one hand, and the last can of coke from the fridge in the other, Melissa headed back to Oliver.

"I'm very sorry, Oliver," she said sincerely when she had unlocked the cell and handed over the can. "Sergeant Mitchell and I have just come back from taking your uncle to town; he's confirmed that the body found this morning is your cousin, Georgina."

"No!" Oliver launched himself off the bed with a howl of anguish. Coke fountained from the can in his hand as he crushed it in his hand and then threw it aside. His eyes flashed angrily, his nostrils flared, and his hands clenched and unclenched themselves into fists as though they ached to be smashed into something or someone.

Melissa had always been frightened of Oliver Ryder – not so much of him as a person, but of the violence he was capable of when angry. She stood her ground, though, determined not to show what she was thinking or feeling, and sipped at her coffee in an outward show of calm that was almost betrayed by the minor trembling of her hand.

"It's okay, everything's fine, there's no need to panic," Melissa told her colleagues when they hurried along the passage to find out what was going on.

"You sure?" Mitchell asked, looking past Melissa and into the cell, where Oliver was pacing up and down, and swearing under his breath.

Melissa nodded. "It's fine, Oliver's just blowing off some steam, aren't you, Ollie," she said with a quick glance over at her shoulder at the pacing prisoner. "I just gave him the news about Georgina, and he's a little upset."

"Okay, well I'm just along the passage if you need me," Mitchell said. "You behave yourself, Oliver."

Melissa was trying to decide what to say next, and how to say it, when Oliver surprised her with a question.

"Have you arrested him yet?" he asked as he stopped his frenetic pacing to face Melissa with his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Perplexed, the mug in Melissa's hand froze on its way to her lips. "Arrested who?" she asked, though she realised straight away who he must be talking about.