“Yeah, right,” Lindsay sighed. “I can see why they might have changed their minds. But that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, stalking me like some trainee assassin,” she added, trying to get rid of the sinking feeling in her stomach with smart-mouthed defiance.

“I’m here to bring you back to England,” Sandra said baldly.

Lindsay shook her head. “No way.” She’d been right to feel apprehensive. For once, being right didn’t make her feel any better.

“Ms. Miller has hired me to persuade you to come back and help her,” Sandra said woodenly.

“So far, you’re not doing too well. What does she need me for? She’s already got a private eye.”

“We don’t do this kind of work. Our specialty is white collar fraud. I wouldn’t know where to begin on a murder investigation. Ms. Miller seems to think you would.”

Lindsay shook her head. “I’m not a hired gun. I’m a journalist, not a private eye. Besides, I’ve been away from England a long time. I’m not what Meredith needs.”

“She thinks you are.”

Lindsay shook her head violently. “No way. You’ve had a wasted journey, Ms. Bloom.” Then she turned away and started to run back towards the safety of her own four walls.

Chapter 2

The high whine of the jet engine dropped a little as the plane hit its cruising height and levelled out. Lindsay pressed a button in the armrest and exchanged the operatic aria in her headphones for contemporary Irish music. At least flying Aer Lingus meant there was a decent choice of in-flight music, she thought. And the music was the perfect distraction to avoid having to think about why she had agreed to a marathon journey back to London, changing at Dublin, in the charmless company of Sandra Bloom.

Ten minutes after Lindsay had made it back home, the dogged private eye had rung the doorbell. Lindsay had tried to ignore it, continuing on her journey to the fridge for a cold beer, but Mutton refused to play. He ran to the front door, snuffling eagerly round the edges, then barking loudly, tail wagging as he scented his newest friend. He turned to look expectantly at Lindsay, uncapping her beer and ostentatiously ignoring the dog. He gave a soft whimper then turned back to the door, outlining its edges with anxious snorts and anguished yelps.

“All right,” Lindsay sighed. She took a long swig of beer, then crossed to the door. She yanked it open and immediately said, “I told you no, and I meant it.”

Sandra Bloom nodded agreement. “I know. But Ms. Miller is adamant that you’re the only person who can help her. She stressed that she wants you to come not only because of your investigative skills but also because you’re a friend and that means she can trust you with things she’d be wary of explaining to a stranger.”

Lindsay cast her eyes upwards. “Emotional blackmail now, is it? I suppose you’d better come in. The neighbors think we lower the tone enough as it is without having private eyes leaning on the doorbell.”