Chapters (58)
- Cover
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Forty-five
- Forty-six
- Forty-seven
- Forty-eight
- Forty-nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-one
- Acknowledgements
- An Eastbourne Murder Mystery
- Canelo Crime
- About the Author
- Also by Sheila Bugler
At this time in the afternoon, it was quiet. Dee walked through the pub slowly, scanning the faces of the few drinkers, pretending she was looking for someone. At the back, there was a tiny beer garden that overlooked the banks of the River Thames. It was busier out here than inside, afternoon drinkers taking advantage of the sunshine. Again, Dee made a show of scanning the faces before going back to the welcome cool inside the pub.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, approaching the woman behind the bar. ‘I wonder if you can help me.’
‘I can try.’
She was beautiful. The contrast of her eyes – one green, one blue – enhanced her exceptional good looks. She was the sort of woman who’d turn heads wherever she went and Dee understood why she’d captured Emer’s attention on the Tube that afternoon.
‘I’m looking for directions,’ Dee said. ‘I’m meant to be meeting a friend but I think I’ve come to the wrong pub, and now I can’t get the map app working on my phone.’
‘Where are you trying to get to?’
‘I think it’s called the Captain Kidd?’ Luckily, Dee knew the area well enough to know several other pubs close by.
‘You’re not far,’ the woman said. ‘Ten minutes, maybe? A bit of a walk in the heat but most of the street’s pretty shaded at this time of the day.’
‘Ten minutes is fine,’ Dee said.
As the woman gave directions to a pub Dee already knew how to find, she started thinking about how she was going to get Emer to see the sad truth – that her sister was dead and wasn’t here in London, or anywhere else.
‘You got that?’ the woman said.
‘Absolutely,’ Dee said. ‘Thanks so much. You’ve been really helpful.’
‘A pleasure.’ The woman smiled again. ‘Hope you’re not too late meeting your friend.’
‘Me too.’ Dee paused. ‘I’m sorry. You look really familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?’
The woman’s body stiffened and the smile disappeared.
‘Definitely not,’ she said. ‘I never forget a face, and I’m sure I haven’t seen you before. Good luck meeting your friend.’
She moved along the bar and started collecting glasses. Dee waited for a moment, until it became clear the woman wasn’t going to engage with her, and walked back outside.
‘So?’ Emer asked. ‘What did you think?’
‘Well she looks nothing like you,’ Dee said. ‘Although that doesn’t mean much. Sisters don’t always look alike. And she doesn’t have any trace of an Irish accent, either.’
‘People can learn new accents,’ Emer said.