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Back Last Place You Look Save as PDF
Chapters (85)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Part 1
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. Part 2
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. Part 3
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. Epilogue
  82. Acknowledgements
  83. Canelo Crime
  84. About the Author
  85. Also by Louisa Scarr

‘And if I could have another copy of that tape, while I’m there,’ Amy adds, with a smile. But her hopes quickly fade.

‘I’m sorry, love. DC West took the only copy when she was here. Haven’t you got it?’

‘Yes, yes,’ Amy says quickly. ‘Just that she’s away, and I wanted to have another look. No problem, I’m sure these witnesses will be more than helpful.’

Amy hangs up, and puts her phone down slowly. Why is the blonde looking into a car accident from two years before? One linked to her own boss?

It doesn’t make sense to Amy, but one thing’s certain: she has one hell of an incentive to find out.

69

Freya walks quickly away from the men’s shower room, her heart thumping in her chest. That was stupid. She shouldn’t have bloody hugged him. But he looked so helpless, so pathetic, standing there, his face a mess, his hair wet, actually smelling nice for a change, that she couldn’t resist him.

But, Christ, that’s the last thing she needs. Fancying her boss? And one as screwed up as Robin? Hell, no. But there is no doubting some sort of attraction there, a connection that seems to be reciprocated.

Her phone rings, and she looks at the name on the screen, Steph, then feels an irrational flash of guilt.

‘Freya?’ Steph says, as she answers it. ‘I have the tox results for you. The ones from Trevor Stevens.’

Freya listens, grim-faced, then hangs up and pockets her phone. She debates what to do with the information. Tell him? But she doesn’t want anything to distract Robin right now.

She walks quickly to the rubbish room and pulls on a white suit. The smell is just as bad as it was yesterday, but she feels ready. She slept well last night, her belly full of terrible Chinese food, her body knackered from the long day at work. Her resolve is as strong as ever. She knows – yes, knows – that there’s something odd about Amy Miller. And this room holds the key. It has to.

Robin joins her, and pulls on his own white suit. They work quietly without speaking, a video camera running, wanting to avoid inflicting the stink on the admin staff this time. The rubbish is as disgusting as she knew it would be. Old coffee grounds mix in with everything, a gritty, wet black coating. Leftover food, things she can’t even imagine in their original form. They take photos but it’s impossible to separate the crap into individual lots of evidence, scooping it together into one big mess in the corner of the room.