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
The voice triggered a flood of memories from long ago, before Kitty disappeared and Emer’s life changed forever. They rolled over her like waves, until she was drowning, slipping back into the past while the walls of the houses on either side of the narrow street closed in on her.
‘Emer, it’s me. Kitty.’
The phone fell from her hand. As the darkness crept closer, she felt it again, that shock of recognition when she’d seen the silver car and realised the man driving it was her stepfather, Robert.
Thirty-six
‘Any chance I could come in for a coffee?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ Dee remembered when she’d first got to know him. Back then, Ed was investigating the murder of a young woman whose body had been discovered by Dee. He used to regularly drop in like this, unannounced, looking for coffee and information.
In the kitchen, when he offered to make the coffee, Dee reminded him that this was her house and she’d make her own coffee, thank you very much. Which at least shut him up for a bit.
‘We’ll sit outside,’ she said, once the coffee was made. ‘It’s just about warm enough. And before you ask – no, I don’t have any biscuits.’
She carried the tray onto the deck, put it on the table and poured coffee for both of them before he had a chance to do it for her.
‘I assume this has something to do with what happened in London the other day?’ she said.
‘Sort of.’ Ed shifted in his chair, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable.
‘What is it?’
‘I heard what happened yesterday, and I wanted to check you’re okay.’
‘How did you hear about that?’
‘A friend of mine working at Brixton station got in touch asking questions about you. What the hell were you doing there, Dee?’
‘I already told your friend,’ she used her index fingers to make imaginary speech marks, ‘exactly why I was there.’
‘You were looking for Annie,’ Ed said. ‘The same reason you were in Wapping on Saturday.’
‘That’s right.’ Dee took a sip of her coffee, trying to work out what she’d missed. Because she knew Ed better than he realised. He was here because he wanted information.
‘Michael Holden,’ she said, as she worked it out. ‘You want to know if I’ve found anything out about the murder he was convicted of. You were part of the original investigation, weren’t you?’