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
Using the tip of her index finger, Dee pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. The silence screamed back at her; faces on the TV speaking words she couldn’t hear; the only movement in the tiny flat was the flickering of the thin curtains in the breeze coming through the open window. Her mind and body seemed to separate, until she was watching herself, crossing the room to the open window and the flapping curtains.
The flat was at the back of the building. Looking out the window, Dee could see a stretch of wasteland and a deserted construction site. The contrast with the bustling street at the front of the building was remarkable.
A single scream broke the silence, followed by voices. Lots of voices. All of them coming from outside, six storeys below. Dee already knew what she’d see when she leaned out of the open window and looked down.
She knew, but she couldn’t stop herself doing it, her eyes travelling down to all the people coming around the side of the building to see what the commotion was. And there, directly below the window, lying face down on the concrete, the broken body of the man Dee had come to speak to. The man who, one hour earlier, had told Emer she’d end up dead if she continued trying to find Annie Holden.
Thirty-two
‘I took the Tube in the wrong direction,’ Maeve said. ‘Before I knew it, I was in Camden. I might not know much about London, but I know that Camden is north London, not south.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Emer said. ‘It wasn’t him.’
‘Who was he, then, if he wasn’t your dad?’
‘I don’t know. He could be anyone. You want to know something? I’m starting to think we should stop this whole thing now. It’s bullshit. I don’t know who to trust anymore, or what to believe. I’m worried if I keep going with this, I’ll lose my mind.’
‘We can’t stop now,’ Maeve said. ‘If Kitty is alive, she’s my only chance of finding out what happened to Lucy.’
They were sitting outside a cafe in Covent Garden, near Maeve’s hotel. Maeve had suggested a pub, but Emer had opted for this place instead. Alcohol was the last thing she needed right now, and she didn’t trust her ability to abstain if she went to a pub.
She was on edge, anxious and tense and finding it difficult to focus. None of these feelings were new. The difference now was she wasn’t trying to block them out with alcohol. Maeve wasn’t helping her mood, either. She kept questioning everything Emer said, as if she didn’t believe what Emer was telling her.