Bloodborn by Kathryn Fox Page B

identity, Mrs. Harbourn, had held a well-attended street party last night to celebrate her sons’ release from custody after the department of public prosecutions decided not to pursue the case.
    Anya sat forward in disbelief. The department of public prosecutions had dropped the charges against the brothers. What the hell was Natasha thinking, after promising to go on with the trial?
    Anya tried to study the brothers’ faces, as if they could reveal what they had done to Giverny, but they just smiled and laughed while they talked to reporters; they were dressed in suits, as if that made them respectable and therefore innocent. Earlier footage showed one with a beard, another with a mustache, but all four were clean-shaven this night as they picked up younger children to present a loving family image.
    Anya almost gagged on her coffee. An “exclusive interview” with the devoted mother would be aired on the tabloid news show that followed. “Police persecution and false allegations,” the heavily made up anchor declared.
    Anya’s thoughts turned to Bevan and Val Hart. Hopefully, they wouldn’t see the show and have to endure more grief, if it was possible.
    The chime of the doorbell startled her. Whoever it was could come back another time. The chime continued. Anya pulled herself off the lounge and checked the peephole. Kate Farrer. She opened the door to her friend who proffered a plastic bag. The fragrant aromas had to be Indian food.
    “Can I come in? Thought we could have a chat away from all the madness. Besides, if the spices in this lot don’t send your germs packing, there’s no hope.”
    “Smells wonderful.” In honesty, Anya appreciated the gesture, and the opportunity to catch up. “I was just about to throw something through the TV anyway.”
    Kate walked straight through to the kitchen. “Guess you already know the media’s all over it.”
    Anya watched the detective pull plates from the cupboard and forks from the drawer. For the first time, she noticed the shorter hair and coppery tinge. “When did you change your hair?”
    “While I was on leave. You’re lucky you didn’t see it before it grew back.” She tugged on strands at the base of her neck.
    “No, I mean it looks great. It really shows off your face.”
    Kate responded by shoving a forkful of tandoori chicken into her mouth. “Heard you did well in New York.”
    The topic of hair was now closed. Kate gestured with her fork at the egg remnants on the plate near the sink.
    “If you’ve already eaten, don’t feel obliged. So, tell me all about it.”
    The combination of flavors made Anya’s stomach grumble. She responded by piling her plate with pilaf rice, green curry chicken and pappadams. “The eggs were breakfast.”
    The pair moved to the kitchen table, just large enough for two plates. “The trip went well. I met some interesting people, made some great work connections too.”
    “Uh-huh?” Kate said with a mouthful. “What about other kinds of connections?”
    Anya felt her face heat up. “One of the investigators and I did get along really well, but I haven’t heard from him since. I probably misinterpreted the signs.”
    “Yeah, you’re pretty thick about things like that.” Kate swallowed, grinned and shoveled more chicken into her mouth.
    “So, how was the new partner and where did he go? Not like you to mention something as trivial as a work partner in an email.”
    Kate stopped chewing. “Oh, him. Yeah, well, new partners can be difficult. He was good to work with but Homicide wasn’t a long-term option. I’m teaming with Liz Gould for the moment. We take turns babysitting Wheeler. Liz’s reliable and smart and doesn’t go on about her baby, not like some of the others in the office.”
    That was one of the things the friends had in common. A lack of interest in small talk.
    “What happened to him?”
    “He works for the Feds. We keep in touch.” Kate crunched on a samosa. She had brought enough