The Role Model: A shocking psychological thriller with several twists Daniel Hurst (moboreader txt) 📖

‘Didn’t see you coming,’ I confess, wiping a bit of soil off my phone before shoving it back into my pocket without sending the message. I’ll do it later.

‘Who are you texting then?’ Becky asks with a mischievous grin. ‘Got a new fella?’

I roll my eyes. ‘Nope,’ I reply, leaving it at that.

‘Fair enough,’ Becky says, although I can tell that she is disappointed that I don’t have any gossip for her to brighten up this shift. ‘This is a waste of time, isn’t it?’

She turns back to the grassy area behind us, and we see the rest of our colleagues all wandering around various parts of it with nothing to show for their efforts so far.

‘Seems like it,’ I reply, hating myself more and more by the second for the fact that I am now involved in a hunt for a missing man who I buried over the weekend. Maybe I would have been better off calling in sick today, after all. At least then, I would have been spared this.

‘He’s obviously going to turn up,’ Becky muses. ‘He’s not even been missing that long. Just a typical teenage lad making his parents worry over nothing.’

I already know that Becky doesn’t have kids of her own, but if I didn’t, it would have been obvious after that. If she was a mother, there is no way she would be so calm about this whole thing. Instead, she would be feeling that sickly knot of dread in the middle of her stomach that all parents feel whenever they hear about a missing child in the news.

They would have a fear of the same thing happening to their own one day.

‘I guess we should make our way back,’ I say, walking towards the car park. Becky follows closely behind, but I hope she is done with conversation now because my head is spinning, and I need peace and quiet to think. My paranoia is starting to ramp up, and it is going to be a full-time job to keep it at bay. The last thing I need is a fellow police officer giving me her theories on what may or may not have happened to Rupert. All I want now is the same thing that the missing man’s parents want: peace of mind.

Unfortunately, none of us are ever going to have that again.

Becky tells me she is going to have a look around the benches, and it’s a relief to see her walking away from me. It also gives me the opportunity to press send on that text message to Chloe, which I do quickly, before returning my phone to my pocket and continuing back towards the car park. But I can’t help glancing at the playground again as I go, and all those old memories come flashing back to me.

Me. Chloe. Tim.

Here in this park. Having fun.

Completely unaware of what was to come.

18

HEATHER

TEN YEARS AGO

After the pizzas came the movie and the glass of wine, but time is running out if I want to ask Tim about moving in before he leaves tonight. I don’t have to do it this evening, but I know it won’t be any easier to pluck up the courage if I leave it to a later date. I should probably do it now, particularly while I have a little alcohol in my bloodstream, boosting my confidence levels slightly.

‘I’ve been thinking...’ I begin, keeping my eyes in the direction of the film on the TV screen instead of at the man sitting on the sofa beside me.

‘That’s always dangerous,’ Tim quips back, and I laugh before playfully slapping him on the arm.

‘Oi, cheeky,’ I say, allowing some of the nervous energy to leave my body as we enjoy the funny moment before I get back to more serious matters again. ‘As I was saying before you rudely interrupted. I’ve been thinking, and I thought maybe you could move in here at some point. Once your divorce is finalised, of course.’

Tim turns and looks at me, and I instantly regret what I just said, feeling like I have needlessly rushed things between us and potentially ruined a great thing before it had really got going. That is until I see the smile break out on his face and realise that he likes that idea just as much as I do.

‘Are you serious?’ he asks me, trying to figure out if it’s now my turn to try and wind him up.

‘Yeah,’ I say, shuffling myself around on the sofa so that I am now sitting facing him in that way people do when they are trying to show just how serious they are about what they are talking about. ‘I think things are going well between us, don’t you?’

Tim gives me that smile again. ‘I do. But only if you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘What about Chloe?’

‘She’s given it the seal of approval too.’

‘She has?’

‘Of course she has. She loves you. You’re really good with her. She likes having you around. We both do.’

Tim is positively beaming, and he shows me just how happy he is by moving in for a kiss. I let my lips linger on his for a lovely few seconds, and I can’t wait until we can do this every night. At the moment, Tim comes around here once or twice a week, depending on how my work schedule is looking, although we do see each other elsewhere if we can, usually at the local park where he and Chloe have a great time on the playground. But it will be good to have him in my life on a daily basis.

Our lips eventually part, and we are both smiling widely as the film continues to play quietly on the television in front of us. But we’re in that blissful state of early romance where not even a good movie can take our attention off each other, and I hope this feeling lasts a long time yet.

‘When do you think