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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

‘Amy’s. Olivia Cross, her name is.’ Freya stares at him. ‘Her alibi for Monday night.’

Shit. It all makes sense now. Liv is Amy’s sister. How could he be so stupid? Robin thinks, a bad feeling growing in his stomach. How could he have allowed a suspect’s sister to get so close to him? To come to his house, steal confidential case files out of his bag. Of all the mistakes to make, this is a fucking bad one.

Liv walks down the path towards them but doesn’t stop, just acknowledges Robin with a small smile.

Freya catches it and turns quickly towards him.

‘You know her?’

‘She’s the tom I was telling you about. The one from the bar? Works for Frankie?’

‘Oh!’ Freya stares at Liv as she goes into the church. They follow. ‘I didn’t realise.’ Then she clicks. ‘You didn’t realise.’

‘No,’ Robin says, and leaves it at that.

He remembers their funeral. Georgia and the twins. Two tiny coffins, next to their mother’s at the front of the church. The cruel irony haunted him: that the twins, who had been together their entire lives – in the womb, in the same cot, holding hands – were separated when dead. But everything about that day was wrong. Friends Georgia hadn’t seen in years, ones he knew she didn’t even like, dabbing at their eyes. Liam, grey and crying next to him, Robin unable to muster the emotional reserve to comfort his brother-in-law. And life continuing, when his whole world had ended.

But then Robin notices people turning, the low, murmured conversation coming to an end, dragging him back to the death at hand. Robin looks behind him: a long procession of people in black is filing into the church.

Amy Miller has arrived.

31

Freya’s just about holding it together. She’s not thinking about Jonathan. She can’t. If she associates the man she loved with the people in this church, with the things they’re about to say, she’ll lose it.

And if she starts crying, she won’t be able to stop. And then Butler will know.

She watches as Amy Miller walks down the aisle. She’s dressed completely in black – pencil skirt and a loose silk blouse, tucked in at her tiny waist. People reach out and comfort her, and she smiles gracefully. Her heels make sharp clip-clop noises on the stone church floor. Her make-up is minimal, her hair tied back in a small ponytail at the nape of her neck. The perfect epitome of a grieving widow.