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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

Instead she’d driven so bloody badly that she’d ended up in a pile-up on the M62. That she was dead was fine with him, even though there would have been more satisfaction in dealing out death himself. But she’d destroyed his kids with her treachery. His kids. His son and his daughter, still in the process of being moulded into a pair of children anyone would be proud of. And she’d taken herself beyond revenge at the same time. He’d cheerfully have killed her again and again and again for the affront of leaving him. The outrage of taking his children from him was worse; for that, he’d have tortured her slowly, grimly, gruesomely for as long as he could possibly make it last.

Well, this one would discover the price of defiance soon enough. First, though, he had to go to work.

58

The dog had greeted her so rapturously on her return that Carol felt obliged to take her for a walk. She hadn’t fancied stumbling over the rough pasture in the dark, so she’d stuck to the margin of the field where the ground was relatively even. Flash didn’t seem to mind. She raced off in random directions before returning at regular intervals to make sure Carol hadn’t lost her way. ‘A bit like my brain,’ Carol said once she’d recognised the pattern.

Even when she’d finally gone to bed, her mind was still racing, running over the same problems in the hope of finding a solution. In the end, she’d pummelled the pillows one last time and managed to drift off to the sound of the World Service. When the alarm roused her a few hours later, the same thoughts were still rattling round her head.

There was no time to take the dog for a run; she had to meet Bronwen Scott at eight so they could go over things once more with Tony before Fielding arrived to interrogate him again. Scott had redoubled her suggestion that Carol avoid the interview itself. ‘I’m sure Fielding will know by then that you’re on the team, but I don’t want to feel she’s got something to prove because you’re in the room.’ It was a good point. It was also a way of protecting Paula.