The first cop car slows to a halt and out steps Detective Turner. My heart somersaults in my chest. Pulling on her jacket, she glances around the cemetery before fixing her eyes on the crowd gathered by the open grave. As far as I can tell, no one else seems to have noticed her yet, everyone still gaping at the hole in the ground. My mouth fills with water. The contents of my stomach race towards my mouth. If they don’t cover that coffin soon I’m going to puke on it. Releasing my hand from my father’s grip, I step backwards until I’m out of sight. The vomit jolts from my mouth onto the grave in front of me. Joseph Best, loving husband and father. Marble stones and Celtic crosses swirl into a blurred picture like some Gothic movie trailer, so I lift my head upwards and pull deep breaths into my lungs. Relax, Becca, relax. Then I feel somebody’s arms encircle me.

‘It’s over, Becca. She’s gone.’ Danny hugs me tightly, whispering in my ear. ‘No matter what happens, or happened, Becca, you’ll always be my sister. I love you.’ He kisses my forehead, lingering, unable to pull away. His tears drop, mingling with mine as they flow down my face.

‘Was it you, Danny?’ I whisper.

‘Was what me?’ he says, pulling his head back, his confused eyes staring into mine.

Behind him, the crowd hushes, everyone standing still as Detective Turner moves closer. ‘Was what me? Becca?’

‘Daniel Wall, I am arresting you for the murder of Katie Collins. You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say…’ Her voice fades to a muffle. Stumbling backwards, his eyes locked on mine, Danny says, ‘Becca?’

I’m frozen, unable to move. The sound of handcuffs echo in my head, as they pull him away. And in that moment, in that stare, those searching eyes struggling to understand what’s happening, I believe in my heart it wasn’t him. Danny did not kill Katie Collins.

Chapter Sixty-One

A shocked silence. Then Joanna screaming.

‘Danny! Danny!’

Stumbling over a graveled grave, she tries to reach her husband. She’s only a few feet away when a cop puts out a thick muscled arm to block her. ‘Danny,’ she cries, her voice screeching with fear. Danny is saying something; I can see his lips moving but I can’t make out his words. Glued to the spot, a human headstone amongst all the granite, my gaze follows his black suit as it moves further and further away.