Just Keep Breathing, GS Rhodes [best book club books for discussion TXT] 📗

Dexter Black looked up at them, his dark, floppy hair falling into his face. He flicked it out of the way with a movement of his head, a move that Kidd associated so strongly with Craig that it took him by surprise. When they could see his face, Kidd could see the terror in his light brown eyes. He was ghostly pale, with a strong jawline and a slightly crooked nose, which told Kidd that maybe he’d been in one or two fights at school. Given the reports of his anger issues, that wasn’t exactly surprising.

Dexter had needed an appropriate adult, given that he was underage. His parents had sent a legal representative—a short, squat man with a bald head that looked like it had been freshly shined. The solicitor’s grey suit was about three sizes too big for him, his shirt, on the other hand, looked three sizes too small, the buttons screaming where they sat across his chest. Kidd vaguely recognised him.

“Andrew Grace,” the man said, reaching out a hand for Kidd to shake, dark hair snaking out from beneath his shirt cuff. “I think we met a few years ago. The Peter Walters case?”

There it is, Kidd thought to himself. Andrew Grace had represented Peter Walters, a notoriously vicious killer who had dismembered several men and women across London before Kidd had managed to catch him. Andrew Grace had been assigned to defend Peter. Kidd got the impression that he hadn’t really wanted to get Peter off, though he did try.

“Yes, of course,” Kidd replied, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you again.”

“Is it?” Andrew replied. “Would be nicer under less saddening circumstances.”

“Yes,” Kidd said. He turned his attention back to Dexter. Dexter’s gaze was focused on the table. He was picking at his fingers, pulling at the skin on the sides of his nails. He could see they were already red raw. A nervous habit. “Mr Black.” He looked up sharply, eyes wide, attentive. His lips quivered a little. “Shall we get started?”

Dexter nodded. He was wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and jumper that were provided by the front desk, the greyness of it matching his skin.

DI Kidd pressed record, announced the date, who was present, and sat back in his chair.

“Would you mind telling us in your own words what happened today?” DI Kidd said.

Dexter took a deep breath before he started. “I didn’t kill her.”

“Deep breaths,” Mr Grace said beside him. “Just tell them what you told me. You don’t have to answer any questions if you don’t want to.”

Kidd sighed. “I never said you did,” he replied firmly. “I just want to get to the bottom of this, so I need you to start talking.”

“But I’ve seen it on TV,” he said. “I’ve seen what you do. You find someone who looks like they’ve done it and you make it all fit so you can put them away. But I didn’t kill her. I didn’t. I found the body, but I didn’t…” He trailed off, the tears rolling down his face as he sat there, trying to get control of himself.

DS Sanchez leaned forward in her chair and lowered her voice. “No one is accusing you of that right now.”

“They arrested me on suspicion of the murder of Sarah Harper,” Dexter snapped. “They think I— You think I did it. I know you do.”

“Suspicion,” DS Sanchez said firmly. “It’s suspicion because you found a dead body and we were looking for you to ask you questions about it.”

“It seems a little bit suspicious, don’t you think?” DI Kidd chimed in. DS Sanchez looked at him sharply. “You disappear, no one has seen you since shortly after you were shouting the odds at Sarah in front of your school. Suddenly you show up, and so does her dead body.”

“I didn’t kill her!”

Kidd banged his fist on the table, making Dexter—and his legal representation—jump. “Then you’d best start talking so we can figure out who did,” Kidd barked. “I want to get to the bottom of this. I want to know who kidnapped her, I want to know who killed her, and I need you to talk to me so I can figure that out. I’m not accusing you right now, but there is a lot of damning evidence that I think could put you away for a long time. So, Dexter Black, I am asking you once again, would you mind telling us, in your own words, what happened today?”

Dexter was rattled. His hands were shaking, the tears were still rolling down his face despite wanting to stop them. He steadied himself, Mr Grace telling him to take his time, and he looked back at Kidd, apparently ready to speak.

“I was out for a run,” Dexter said quietly. “I…I’d not been out of the house for a few days, and my parents were out.”

“They were out?” Kidd interrupted.

“We went around to your house to talk to you and—”

“I know,” he said. “They…they didn’t want me to talk to you.”

Kidd could feel his blood starting to simmer in his veins once again. He added it up in his head. They’d kept Dexter from them and possibly cost Sarah Harper her life. He clenched his fists under the table, not wanting to scare Dexter now that he’d started talking.

“Go on,” he said through gritted teeth.

“They went out, shopping or work or something, they’d not been out together for days, that’s why I couldn’t leave. Even when I tried to go to school they…” He trailed off. “Anyway, I thought I would take a run,” he said. “It was early and I went down by the river, like I always do, I have a route you see, like, a regular running route. And I went down by the water and…there she was.”

He got this far-off look in his eyes, one that Kidd had seen far too many times in people who had found bodies in the past. He was going through it all in his head