Back Blood Rites
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Chapter 1
  3. Chapter 2
  4. Chapter 3
  5. Chapter 4
  6. Chapter 5
  7. Chapter 6
  8. Chapter 7
  9. Chapter 8
  10. Chapter 9
  11. Chapter 10
  12. Chapter 11
  13. Chapter 12
  14. Chapter 13
  15. Chapter 14
  16. Chapter 15
  17. Chapter 16
  18. Chapter 17
  19. Chapter 18
  20. Chapter 19
  21. Chapter 20
  22. Chapter 21
  23. Chapter 22
  24. Chapter 23
  25. Chapter 24
  26. Chapter 25
  27. Chapter 26
  28. Chapter 27
  29. Chapter 28
  30. Chapter 29
  31. Chapter 30
  32. Chapter 31
  33. Chapter 32
  34. Chapter 33
  35. Chapter 34
  36. Chapter 35
  37. Chapter 36
  38. Chapter 37
  39. Chapter 38
  40. Chapter 39
  41. Chapter 40
  42. Chapter 41
  43. Chapter 42
  44. Chapter 43
  45. Chapter 44
  46. Chapter 45
  47. Chapter 46
  48. Chapter 47
  49. Chapter 48
  50. Chapter 49
  51. Chapter 50
  52. Chapter 51
  53. Chapter 52
  54. Chapter 53
  55. Chapter 54
  56. Chapter 55
  57. Chapter 56
  58. Chapter 57
  59. Chapter 58
  60. Chapter 59
  61. Chapter 60
  62. Chapter 61
  63. Chapter 62
  64. Chapter 63
  65. Acknowledgements
  66. Canelo Crime
  67. About the Author
  68. Also by Rachel Lynch

Everybody at the Penrith and Lakes had their own theories. She was a runaway, a hitcher, a foreign illegal, a drug addict, and she was a nobody. To Annie, the girl was a lost soul, she’d told Joe: she’d looked into her eyes. She’d seen the torment. But, at Castlerigg, she’d also seen the way the girl looked at Callum.

A shiver went down her back as she dropped the boys at the end of the track that morning, the start of a new autumn term, and then made her way to the A66 and on to Penrith. She looked in her rear-view mirror and watched them stand at the side of the road, hands in pockets, occasionally speaking to one another, waiting for the bus. It wouldn’t be long before snow started to fall, around November time, and the buses would struggle to make it on time. But that was a source of excitement and anticipation for all the school children in Keswick in the winter: snow days. Annie reflected that when she was a child, snow days weren’t a thing. It seemed that suddenly nowadays, teachers found it difficult to negotiate a little snow drift in their four-by-fours, whereas when she was at school, a tiny Ford with a screaming engine and flimsy tyres fared better against the elements.

Character was everything.

The memory of the girl in the field at Castlerigg came back to her as she found a gap in the traffic and pulled on to the busy A road. She’d ushered her boys away from the sight of the naked woman. Joe had taken over and his survival instincts had kicked in. They couldn’t get her to the car because every time they tried she’d struggle and cause a fuss, so they threw clothes and blankets over her, with Annie insisting that the boys go and wait in the vehicle. They refused. Understandably they were scared to leave their parents, but it had come as a surprise to witness the boys’ vulnerability.

The young woman was all Callum had talked about since they’d found her. He’d bombarded his mother with question after question: did she know anything? Was she all right? Who was she? Had the police made sure she was safe? What was being said at the hospital?