THEY WROTE UP THEIR reports, Rafferty at least, conscious that they didn’t amount to much. If only he didn’t feel so overwhelmed with possibilities.
At least Ma had rung up and told him he needn’t take her shopping tonight as his sister was taking her instead. One thing less on his plate. But it didn’t make him feel any less stressed.
He wrapped his head in his hands and slowly brought his hands down his face.
‘I think this case is getting away from me, Dafyd.’ It was a telling admission.
‘Why should you think that?’
Rafferty leaned his chair back against the scuffed wall. The office was starting to look tatty after its latest Bradley inspired makeover—hardly surprising with him in it. Even his superior executive chair had developed a squeak, which was probably its ineffective protest
