Had Sharon been blackmailing Dylan? Had Dylan killed Sharon? If so, did that mean he had also killed the others?

Bailey felt something crawl across her foot. She looked down. It was a rat. Its thick fleshy tail dragged across the top of her trainer. She reflexively jumped back in revulsion, bumping against the bunk-bed frames as she did so.

Dylan froze and stopped whistling. He turned to the storage cupboard. His eyes narrowed as he peered at the crack of the door. She felt like he was looking straight into her eyes.

He started forward towards her.

Panic spiked through her. She immediately retreated backwards, squeezing herself behind the stack of bunk frames, managing to conceal herself just as he pulled open the door.

Light flooded in. He stood there silhouetted in the doorway.

Bailey crouched, squashed behind the metal frames, holding her breath. What would he do if he discovered her? Would he put her on the nicking sheet? If anyone should be on the nicking sheet, it should be him. Having sex with the inmates was unprofessional, unethical and illegal.

He stood silently in the doorway. She could hear his breathing and smell the musky tang of his sweat infused with the odour of his cologne. She could virtually smell the sex on him.

The rat scurried out between his legs. He jumped backwards in surprise.

‘Fucking rats!’ he muttered in disgust.

He kicked at the rat. It squealed and ran off down the corridor.

He stood there for a fraction longer, then he shut the door, leaving Bailey in the blackness.

She heaved a sigh of relief. That had been close.

She listened and waited a few minutes until she was sure that he was gone. Then she navigated her way through the blackness to the door. She felt for the door handle. With a mounting sense of panic, she realised that there was no door handle on the inside. She was locked in.

Shit. She was locked in and due to meet Toni and the others in ten minutes out in the yard.

Chapter 78

After a certain amount of banging on the inside of the door, someone eventually opened it. It was the small tubby inmate with glasses who worked in the laundry. Bailey was grateful that she had attracted the attention of an inmate rather than a guard, who might have disciplined her.

She made some feeble excuse about looking in the wrong place for something and hurried back up to ground level and out into the yard. She looked at her watch. She was fifteen minutes late.

She spotted Toni and the rest of the gang assembled on one of the concrete picnic tables. Keisha and Rong were playfully punching each other. Muscles sat there like a statue, staring straight ahead. Poppy looked bored, idly filing her nails.

Toni was sitting in the middle. When she saw Bailey approaching, her face twisted into a sneer.

‘Where have you been?’ she said. ‘You’re late.’