I didn’t sleep that night, no point even trying. I paced up and down, drank some beer, scared like I’d never been before. Something real bad was going to happen to me for screwing up like this. I’d heard about kids who’d had half their tongues cut out to stop them talking, or were beaten up so bad they might as well be dead.

I’m not saying I didn’t think about you, because I did, but there was nothing I could do about you now. The people deciding my fate were some of the worst. I needed to get myself and my ma out of there, to someplace we couldn’t be found.

I got a text back from BJ about four in the morning.

It said: You did good. Lie low and speak to no one.

So, they knew you were hurt, but I still did good.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

DCI Gould clicked off his phone and fixed Dan Collier with a fiercely intent stare. “It was arson,” he said shortly. “The place reeked of petrol.”

Dan pressed his fingers to his eye sockets trying to ease the tension that had been building up in his head since he’d heard the news. He was lucky to have gotten this meeting so soon after the event, although he guessed Andee had paved the way.

“So, the question is,” Gould continued, “was the perp, or perps, targeting only the house, or did they know someone was inside?”

Dan said, “For me, the bigger question right now is, will Marcy survive it? And the next that comes to mind is, who the hell did it?”

Gould conceded the points.

“When I spoke to Andee first thing,” Dan went on, “she confirmed that all three of them, Claudia, Marcy, and Jasmine, were due to be at the dress rehearsal last night, but Marcy stayed behind at the last minute. So a change of plan that whoever did it wasn’t prepared for?”

Gould absorbed this thoughtfully. “Initial take from the scene,” he said, “is that she heard something and went to investigate. It’s probable that she tried to put the fire out but the smoke overwhelmed her.”

Not even wanting to picture Marcy’s fear and desperation, the horror she must have felt when she’d realized their beloved house was on fire, Dan said, “Have you been up there yet?”

“I came back about an hour ago. Both bedroom wings are intact, so’s the tower, but most of the kitchen, sitting room, and part of the roof have gone.”

Dan’s heart folded around a visceral ache of despair. He frowned to try and ease the tension again. “Well, it’s just a house,” he stated, certain Claudia saw it as more than that, “and I’m sure it can be fixed. What really matters is Marcy. She’s having a second surgery as we speak.”