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
‘Not really,’ Dee said, remembering the statistic Emer had quoted in the taxi. ‘Six in every thousand people, apparently. Anyway, Leonard says Annie’s stopped working in the pub. Which means we’ve hit a dead end. It’s probably time to let this go before it gets any crazier, right?’
Louise frowned. ‘Dee, I don’t mean to pry, but is there something else going on?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ve already got quite a lot of work on. Every time we speak you tell me how behind schedule you are with your book. So I don’t understand why you haven’t already done the right thing and told Emer she needs to accept the truth. All this digging around into her past and trying to prove something that’s clearly not true, how is that helping anyone?’
Dee took a sip of her wine as she considered this. Louise was right. This obsession with looking into Kitty’s death wasn’t helping anyone, least of all Dee herself, who should be focusing on her book and her career and the rest of her life.
Except every time she thought about the rest of her life, every single time, all she could see was the mobile home, a few hundred metres along the beach from her own house, empty and deserted.
Twelve
One month earlier
Emer walked into the bar and looked around, wondering if she’d still recognise Maeve Ryan after all these years. She hadn’t been here before. It was one of those new, characterless bars that seemed to be popping up across the city with alarming speed. Full of shiny young things with too much money and no taste. Emer wasn’t feeling particularly shiny today, and wished Maeve had suggested somewhere different, somewhere a bit less upbeat. Music pumped from speakers she couldn’t see, the sound echoing off the bare brick walls, thumping in time with the throbbing inside her head.
‘Emer?’
A petite woman with elfin features and black hair cut into a severe bob was standing in front of her, smiling.
‘Maeve.’ Emer tried to smile back, not quite managing it. ‘God you look fantastic. I barely recognise you. Sorry, that came out wrong. Clearly, you’ve always been gorgeous.’
‘Liar.’ Maeve opened her arms and the two women hugged awkwardly.
‘Thanks for getting back to me,’ Emer said. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.’