The lost mate
Chapter 35: Trouble

Chapter 35: Trouble

Heather sat at the kitchen table. She was about to take a sip of her coffee when the phone rang, the shrill sound startling her. With a sigh, she set the cup down and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Mrs. Heather Kray?" The voice on the other end was official, clipped.

"It’s Heather Mills now," she corrected, her heart beginning to race.

"This is Detective Fred Monroe from the police department. We wanted to ask you a few questions regarding your ex-husband, Ronald Kray."

Heather’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t heard that name in years, and she had hoped she never would again. "I haven’t seen him since the divorce," she managed to say, her voice tight.

"Mrs. Mills, we found his body in a marsh not far from town," Detective Monroe continued, his tone grave. "We’re trying to piece together what happened. Do you suspect anyone might have wanted to harm him? Or do you know anything that might help our investigation?"

For a moment, Heather was frozen, the words hanging in the air like a noose tightening around her neck. The coffee she had once been eager to sip now sits untouched, cooling rapidly. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She had known this day might come, but she had pushed it to the back of her mind, convincing herself it would never happen.

"I... I have no idea," she stammered, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "We... weren’t in contact after the divorce. I don’t know who could have done this."

There was a pause on the other end, and Heather imagined the detective making a note of her words, perhaps sensing the tremor in her voice.

"If you think of anything, anything at all, please contact us," Monroe said, his tone softer now, almost sympathetic. "We’ll need you to come down to the station at some point to answer a few more questions."

Heather agreed, her voice barely a whisper, before the detective hung up. She placed the phone back on the table, her hand trembling.

She had always feared this moment, but now that it was here, the reality was far more terrifying than she had imagined. Her mind raced, recalling every detail, every mistake she might have made, and every loose end she had thought was tied up. She had been so careful, so methodical, but now it felt like the ground beneath her was crumbling.

What if they found out? What if they uncovered the truth?

She stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the chair, and began to pace the kitchen. She couldn’t let fear paralyse her, not now. She had to stay calm and think clearly. There was no evidence, no proof, nothing that could tie her to Ronald’s death. At least, that’s what she told herself.

But the gnawing dread in her stomach wouldn’t go away. The police were asking questions, and that meant they were suspicious. And if they kept digging, who knew what they might find?

Heather took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had survived Ronald’s cruelty and had rebuilt her life from the ground up after the divorce. She wasn’t going to let his ghost destroy everything she had worked so hard to achieve.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of Emily, Annie, and Ryan. The dining room was now filled with the lively chatter of a young boy eager to share his morning adventures and Emily’s usual cheerful energy. Plates clattered, chairs scraped, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. For a moment, Heather found herself smiling despite the turmoil inside her.

Amidst the chaos, Heather tried to maintain her composure, pushing the earlier conversation with the police to the back of her mind. Soon, it was time for Emily and Ryan to head off to school. The room emptied out as quickly as it had filled, leaving Heather and Annie in the quiet aftermath.

She looked across the table at Annie, her expression sombre. "Annie," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "when do you think you’ll be ready to leave?"

Annie, who had been sipping her coffee, looked up, surprised by the sudden question.

"I haven’t decided yet."

Heather took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "I have a friend in Spain. I could arrange for you to go there, away from all of this... away from Damien."

Annie raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension in Heather’s voice. "Heather, what’s going on? You’re troubled. Is there something you’re not telling me?"

Heather hesitated, but the weight of the secret was too much to bear alone. "The police called me this morning," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "They found Ronald’s body in a marsh. They asked if I knew anything or if I suspected anyone."

Annie’s face hardened. "And what did you tell them?"

"I told them I didn’t know anything, that I hadn’t seen him since our divorce," Heather replied, her hands trembling. "But I’m scared, Annie. What if they figure it out? What if they discover the truth?"

Annie reached across the table and took Heather’s hands in hers, her grip firm and reassuring.

"Listen to me, Heather. You have nothing to worry about. You didn’t kill Ronald. I did. And I’ll make sure nothing happens to you or Emily."

Heather’s eyes widened in shock. "Annie, you—"

"We’ll figure this out together, just like we always do."

Tears welled up in Heather’s eyes, a mixture of fear, relief, and gratitude. "Thank you, Annie. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Annie squeezed her hands gently. "We’ll get through it. But first, let’s focus on keeping you and Emily safe."

"Spain might not be such a bad idea after all. Let’s all leave together." Heather suggested.

"If you run away, the cops will be sure that you are guilty of something. Let’s think of a better plan to keep you both safe," Annie suggested.

Heather chewed her lips in fear and confusion.

"But...."

"I doubt they will find any DNA. Even if they do, my DNA would be of a wolf. It will be considered an animal attack."

Annie reassured Heather, "We just need to stay calm and think this through logically." Heather nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope in the midst of their dire situation.