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Back Cross and Burn Save as PDF
Chapters (74)
  1. About the Author
  2. Also by Val McDermid
  3. COPYRIGHT
  4. CROSS AND BURN
  5. Dedication
  6. Acknowledgements
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. 59
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. 66
  74. 67

Franklin walked to the door. ‘Aye. She won’t let anybody creep up on you.’

Except George Nicholas. Carol squashed the thought as ridiculous and unworthy. ‘Thanks for keeping me in the loop.’

He gave another harsh bark of laughter. ‘I’m not in the bloody loop myself. DCI Fielding made that crystal clear. But if I hear anything you should know about, I’ll let you know.’ He opened the door and scowled at the sleety rain that had come out of nowhere, as it so often did up on the moors. ‘You might want to give Sergeant McIntyre a bell. She’s the one with her finger on the pulse.’

Carol watched him leave. She didn’t believe there was a killer out there who was trying to put the fear of death into her by killing women who looked a bit like her. And until she did, there was no reason to put in a call to her old life. No reason at all.

37

‘I wish we could have waited until his auntie Rachel was here,’ Elinor said, buckling herself into her seat belt.

‘Me too. But Fielding’s got a point. It’s not like the olden days where information was safe till the next edition of the newspapers hit the street. Now, all it takes is one inadvertent slip or one idiot from West Yorkshire keen to make a bob or two by slipping something to the papers and suddenly it’s all over Twitter. Can you imagine what it would be like to find out your mother was a murder victim from your Twitter feed?’ Paula eased out of the hospital ambulance bay and into the stream of traffic.

Elinor shuddered. ‘I take your point.’ She laid a hand on Paula’s thigh in a companionable gesture. ‘It must have been a horrible shock for you, being confronted with Bev like that.’

Paula sighed. ‘To be honest, Elinor, it was almost a relief. Not seeing her like that, obviously, but for the uncertainty to be over. I’ve been pretty sure she was dead for the last twenty-four hours. She wouldn’t have walked away from her life. She loved her son. No matter how bad things had been for her – and we’ve found no evidence of anything amiss in her life – she would never have abandoned Torin without a word. She had to have been taken. And stranger abductions never end well.’

‘I couldn’t help hoping that she was being kept somewhere. That you’d somehow manage to find her alive. You read about these cases, where people have been kept captive for years and then they’re rescued. And Nadia was held prisoner for three weeks, according to this morning’s paper.’ She bit her lip. ‘I really wanted to believe.’