One Left Alive - Helen Phifer Page 0,1

Hunt, in her life as he parked the van, leaving the flashing lights on, and ran towards her.

He took one look at the woman and shook his head, confirming what she already suspected.

Harrison had put the stepladder out. Dan climbed up it and pressed his fingers to the side of the woman’s neck.

‘There’s no pulse. How long ago did you find her?’

Harrison shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It seems like hours ago, but probably ten minutes.’

Dan pulled a Swiss Army knife from his cargo trouser pocket and began to saw at the rope above the knot.

‘Morgan, she’s going to be a dead weight when she drops, can you both catch her?’

She looked at the boy. His complexion had lost all colour and his eyes were streaming tears now, but he nodded. They managed to catch hold of her. Dan grabbed her underneath her shoulders as the rope gave way and Morgan and Harrison took the weight of her legs and laid her gently onto the ground.

Harrison let out a loud sob. She put her arm around him, leading him to the van as the paramedics arrived in a first response vehicle and the scene became a flurry of activity. She heard Dan request a sergeant and being told the duty detective sergeant was already en route to attend the scene. Helping Harrison into the back of the van, where the windows were tinted, she sat him facing away from the direction of the tragic scene, where she could see the paramedic shaking her head at Dan. Morgan’s heart felt heavy; this was terrible. Any sudden death was awful, but for this boy to be the one to find this woman was so unfair.

‘Harrison you’ve been very brave. Can you tell me what that lady is called?’

He nodded. ‘Olivia Potter.’

‘How old was she?’

He was sitting with his head buried into his arms, which were balanced on his long legs, and shrugged.

‘Not sure. Forties?’

‘Is your girlfriend home?’

‘No, I don’t think so. The car isn’t here. I didn’t think anyone was home when I got here. I had a heart attack when I turned and saw Olivia like that. I didn’t notice her when I arrived, I was checking my phone to see if Bronte had messaged back. Why, why would she do that? It’s not right, is it? She was always so happy and chilled, not the kind of person who would do anything like that.’

He looked up at her, the tears were flowing freely again, and Morgan reached out to take hold of his hand.

‘I’m so sorry, Harrison, that must have been a terrible shock for you. But I can’t say. I don’t know why she would want to do that.’

He nodded. ‘Oh God, poor Bronte is going to be broken. She is really close to her mum.’

‘Who else lives here?’

‘Saul, Bronte’s dad. Bronte, and her younger sister, Beatrix.’

‘Do you have a number for Saul?’

He shook his head. ‘I’ve got Bronte’s.’

Morgan smiled. ‘How old is Bronte?’

‘Sixteen. She’s not speaking to me because I liked Sophie Wood’s Snapchat. That’s why I came here to tell her it was only a like, it doesn’t mean I want to run away with her and get married. She gets very jealous.’

Morgan nodded. ‘Ah, teenage girls. It’s a tough time being a teenager, isn’t it. How old are you, Harrison?’

‘Almost eighteen. What should I do? Do I message Bronte and tell her what’s happened?’

‘No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I need to speak to Saul first; maybe you could find out where they are for me. Tell them you need them to come home, that there’s been an emergency.’

‘I can try; I don’t really want to be the one to tell her. How do you tell someone their mum hung themselves from the rope swing?’

‘That’s our job, we’ll take care of that. I just need you to try and get them to come back here, please.’

Another car pulled up and she recognised Detective Sergeant Ben Matthews from CID as he emerged.

‘You stay here, I’ll be back soon.’

Morgan crossed towards the DS, eager to introduce herself. She knew who he was but doubted he’d have a clue about her. She was probably just another name and number to him. As she got closer she heard him ask: ‘Who was first on scene?’

‘I was, Sarge.’

He turned to look at her and she felt her stomach tighten. She’d heard rumours that he was a miserable sod most of the time and didn’t take too kindly to younger officers