I stare down at Finn, beating back tears. Was he a killer? Had he taken Lark too? I’m so close to sobbing right now.

Finn groans, and Beynon looks up at McKay who is hovering close by. ‘Chase up the air ambulance,’ she says. ‘Before this man takes his last breath.’

Chapter 39

Present Day

Present

I barely know my own thoughts anymore. Can barely keep awake. I often cry like a small child. Bury my head in the pillow and sob.

Some days I lie here and imagine my mother by my side. She tells me to be strong. Brave. Take the pain, like she did.

Now those tears roll down my face, but Misty is still here. He knows I’m in pain. Scared my life will soon be over. I take long deep breaths, and look through the window. It’s getting dark, but nobody is coming to save me. Not tonight. Not ever.

I sob so loud that Misty jumps from the bed, gives me a daggering look before licking his fur.

‘Help!’ I cry out. ‘Somebody. Please, help me.’

Chapter 40

A Year Ago

Detective Inspector Kate Beynon

The steep hill towards Drummondale House felt never-ending.

‘Christ, it’s like travelling up a rollercoaster,’ DI Kate Beynon said, pressing down on the throttle. They were at least ten miles from civilisation, and God knows how far from the nearest McDonald’s.

‘I hate rollercoasters,’ DS Gavin McKay said from the passenger seat. ‘Never liked bumper cars much either. It’s the sparks – they smell like singed flesh. And don’t get me started on the ghost train.’

Kate laughed, but it was forced. Lark Taylor – just seventeen – was missing. Taken? This was a case she needed to solve. Quick!

Kate eased her foot off the accelerator as she drove through open, wrought-iron gates.

‘This whole place is fucking freaky,’ she said as they passed the ruined part of Drummondale House, before veering off towards the car park. ‘Why would anyone want to holiday here? Give me Benidorm any day of the week.’

She came to a stop, and pulled on the handbrake. ‘Looks like they’re waiting for us, Gav.’ The brightness of the sun silhouetted the group of ten, all statue-still on the grass – some sitting, some standing.

Gavin nodded, opened the car door, and dragged his six-foot, heavily built self out of the car and onto the cobbles, where he stretched his arms into the air.

Kate took a deep breath. She’d wasted no time after getting the call from Robert Taylor. A wee lass disappearing in the middle of the night, possibly with a man in his mid-thirties, had to be investigated. Totally out of character, her father had said on the phone. I’ve never trusted Jackson Cromwell.

Kate took another deep breath – her daughter had just turned seventeen. Thought she was so grown-up, yet …