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wouldn’t have been fair to deny him the chance to tell you the whole story. I’m a cop and my first job is to build up trust with these kids. D’ya see that?”
    “I do, but I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he said.
    She knew he had a point. She cursed the fact that she couldn’t tell him that her story edit was in exchange for some information. A deal was a deal and she had stuck with it. In any case, she had trampled every protocol for the questioning of minors. Doubtless Jasmine de Montfort would be able to advise him of her errors.
    His mood lightened again.
    “What sort of saddo would call that place Badger’s Knoll? It’s a sneer at what they’ve destroyed,” he said.
    Shannon giggled.
    “Saddo. You’re not a guy to say that.”
    “It’s Ben. I try to keep up. You know, join in a bit. He thinks you’re ultra-street-chick cool.”
    “I think he’s a gallant charming young man,” she said in her poshest clipped accent.
    “And you’re certainly not a gal to say that,” he said, beaming a huge perfect smile.
    They passed through the village. He slowed down and turned right through imposing iron gates bearing the Bloxington coat of arms. The private road passed through trees and opened out into a meadow of wild flowers and long grass. She saw the lake ahead of them and the front face of the Manor on the far side. He steered the Land Rover off the road and bumped down to the edge of the water. He switched off the engine and bounded out like a spaniel to come round to open her door.
    “The sun is lovely and there’s a seat. It’s my favourite view,” he said, offering his strong bare arm to steady her as she swung out her legs. He kept his gaze into some polite distance. She took the offered forearm. He was firm and steady.
    “Well thank you, kind Sir,” she said.
    He looked back into her eyes as she reluctantly let go and brushed down her dress. He led the way to a wooden bench. She sat beside him.
    “Wow! What a view,” she said.
    “Shannon....” he began.
    “Yes, Spencer, I know,” she teased.
    “Really, what do you know?”
    “You never did this with PC Flowers.”
    He smiled with the warmth of the sun. His laughter lines deepened to reflect some kind of joy.
    “I wasn’t going to say that, but whatever I was going to say was just to cover up that I was thinking that very thing,” he said.
    Her hand went forward to touch his arm. His hand started to come to meet hers but he drew it back and gazed silently over the lake. She held back her touch but the safety catch of a hair trigger was off.
    “All this for one man,” he said.
    “I didn’t see any fences and the gates were open. You let folk just wander in,” she said.
    “You know that?”
    “Ben told me. He loves you. He’s proud of you, Spencer.”
    The big lost man put his head in his hands.
    “Shannon, this is wrong. Oh God. We just can’t talk like this.”
    “We’re doing OK so far. You wanted to talk about Ben,” she said, longing to reach out for his hand, but holding back.
    “Yes, we are, aren’t we? Look, it’s not been easy for him since the accident—the death of his mother. I’m guessing you know about that.”
    She wanted to keep it simple.
    “I know enough.”
    “He was away at boarding school. After his mother, after Saskia died, I kept him at home,” he said, drawing in a deep breath. “Maybe more for me than for him. Maybe entirely for me. I don’t know. This wretched drugs business nearly destroyed us—you know, destroyed our bond of trust. It’s a deep wound for me, Shannon, because we were strong for each other and he knew I would be heartbroken for him and for his poor mother. Jasmine makes no secret of her belief that it wouldn’t have happened if I’d sent him back to Eton.”
    He stopped. She knew that even if there weren’t tears in his eyes, they were pouring from his heart. She let him settle and somehow held back her own emotions and touch. He carried on.
    “Do you think