Chapters (80)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- CONTENTS
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- CHAPTER 47
- CHAPTER 48
- CHAPTER 49
- CHAPTER 50
- CHAPTER 51
- CHAPTER 52
- CHAPTER 53
- CHAPTER 54
- CHAPTER 55
- CHAPTER 56
- CHAPTER 57
- CHAPTER 58
- CHAPTER 59
- CHAPTER 60
- CHAPTER 61
- CHAPTER 62
- CHAPTER 63
- CHAPTER 64
- CHAPTER 65
- CHAPTER 66
- CHAPTER 67
- CHAPTER 68
- CHAPTER 69
- CHAPTER 70
- A LETTER TO MY READERS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- ALSO BY RACHEL ABBOTT
- OTHER NOVELS BY RACHEL ABBOTT
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- READING GROUP QUESTIONS
‘Sorry, Becky, I won’t be coming back to the office, but you can reach me on my mobile if you need to. It sounds pretty clear cut, but let me know how it goes anyway. You should be there by just after eight o’clock, and the DI is happy to meet you at the scene.’
‘Okay.’ Becky paused, and as he gathered together the paperwork for his meeting, he could feel her looking at him. ‘Are you all right, Tom?’
He reached for his briefcase, avoiding her eyes. She could read him so well, and if she thought there was something going on that he wasn’t telling her, she would start digging. He couldn’t have that.
‘Just pissed off that I can’t join you, that’s all. I’ll speak to you later.’
CHAPTER 49
49
I’ve been driving around since I woke up and saw the policemen outside my house. I don’t know what to do, but I feel sick. The momentary glimmer of hope that I had done nothing wrong – that Ian is alive – has been extinguished.
There is still the possibility that Thea has reported her car stolen, and as each vehicle passes I glance anxiously at the driver, certain that it will be either her or the doctor coming to find me. Half of me thinks it would be a relief to see the blue flashing lights of a police car, with a stern officer signalling through his window for me to pull over. It would take away the need to make a decision and I would see it as some kind of divine intervention and hand myself in.
It will be light soon and I have no idea what the day will bring. I can’t dump the car – I have no shoes, no coat and nowhere to go. I’m hungry too, but I have no money for food and I desperately need the bathroom.
A thought comes to me, and I immediately dismiss it. But then it creeps back, insidious, not allowing me to think of alternatives. Can I get into the house from the back? If I could, memories of that night might come back to me and maybe I would understand what happened – why I killed Ian. Perhaps he attacked me first. It’s no justification of course, but at least it would give me something to cling to.
Access to the back door of my house is through the garage; there is no side path. I can’t get in that way because of the car outside the front with a police officer sitting in it. But there is possibly another option.