BooksBarbecue
Back Her White Lie
Chapters (72)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Chapter Thirty-Three
  36. Chapter Thirty-Four
  37. Chapter Thirty-Five
  38. Chapter Thirty-Six
  39. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  41. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  42. Chapter Forty
  43. Chapter Forty-One
  44. Chapter Forty-Two
  45. Chapter Forty-Three
  46. Chapter Forty-Four
  47. Chapter Forty-Five
  48. Chapter Forty-Six
  49. Chapter Forty-Seven
  50. Chapter Forty-Eight
  51. Chapter Forty-Nine
  52. Chapter Fifty
  53. Chapter Fifty-One
  54. Chapter Fifty-Two
  55. Chapter Fifty-Three
  56. Chapter Fifty-Four
  57. Chapter Fifty-Five
  58. Chapter Fifty-Six
  59. Chapter Fifty-Seven
  60. Chapter Fifty-Eight
  61. Chapter Fifty-Nine
  62. Chapter Sixty
  63. Chapter Sixty-One
  64. Chapter Sixty-Two
  65. Chapter Sixty-Three
  66. Chapter Sixty-Four
  67. Chapter Sixty-Five
  68. Chapter Sixty-Six
  69. Chapter Sixty-Seven
  70. A letter from Jackie
  71. About the Author
  72. Also by Jackie Walsh

I swallow hard, knowing this could have happened at Huntley Lodge. It’s also possible I was in the house at the time, asleep upstairs, unaware of the body being tipped into the pit at the back of the garden. I need to tell the detectives that. They need to know that while I could have been there at the time, any one of hundreds of people could have done this. Someone who once lived at the house or someone who had partied at the house. There were lots of people at those parties. People who knew the unused pit was there. The detectives need to know that.

The lunchtime rush is almost over, just a few stragglers without the chains of clock cards rushing them back to work. I’m usually quite chatty with the customers, laughing, joking, commenting on the latest breaking news. But not today. Today I just smile and put down a plate or lift a cup. My vibe must be easily read because no one is engaging me in conversation. A lot of the regulars are aware I’m leaving Muriel’s café in a couple of days. They know I’m getting married and moving to Australia. They are fully aware of my unfolding dream. They don’t know that dream is now balancing on a crumbling foundation.

When the last of the tables have been cleared, I go to the barista machine to make myself a cappuccino to take out back. I wash the smell of disinfectant from my hands before lifting the mug. I’m not hungry today. The stress of the detectives wanting to speak to me has my stomach in a knot. Sean says not to worry, that the cops do this; they have to be certain that I know nothing of use to the investigation before they scratch me off their list. I hope he’s right.

I’m just about to pour the frothed milk into the mug when the tinkle of the bell rings above the door behind me. Someone has walked into the café. I look at Muriel counting coins at the till to see if she makes a move to attend to the customer but she remains focused on the money. It’s up to me. I force a smile on my face even though one doesn’t belong there and turn to see the tall shape of a familiar man.

‘Andriu?’ I don’t believe it. Andriu is standing in front of me. I wipe my hands on my apron before pulling the hairnet from my head. I must look like crap. He looks great.